Waiting to Believe (35 page)

The hot days of summer were not lazy ones for the young sisters preparing for final vows. They were weeding the gardens as well as cleaning the college, scrubbing and buffing tile hallways and painting dorm rooms. Kacey didn't mind the physical work. It felt good to use her body strenuously, to take her mind off the doubts and fears that plagued her. She could not bring herself to face them, but neither could she turn off the music in her head.

Her responsibility was for the vegetable garden, and it was there that she found her greatest pleasure. She liked the heat beating on her back as she knelt between the rows, thinning green onions and carrots, staking tomato plants.

She thought of her stubborn spirit as she did her solitary work.
Willful
she had been called by Mother Mary Bernard. She saw herself as
determined.
Determined to accomplish what she had set out to do, in spite of everything.

She'd been naïve when she entered Blessed Sacrament. Everything had seemed clear then. A path was opening. The concept of community life was appealing. Being surrounded by smart, articulate women. Not being consumed with the world: no decisions about marriage, children, making money. Convent life was a convenient life. It allowed her to focus, instead, on “doing good.” Being a giver.
So, why now, after six years, can I not be content with my choice?

Beads of sweat dripped from her forehead, dampening the edge of her veil. She swiped at them with dirty fingers. The work day was almost over. Her knees ached as she sat back on her haunches and surveyed her progress. It was a good sight.

“Hey,” she heard Mary Bartholomew call out, “I think you've got blight on your tomatoes!”

“No!” Kacey shouted with dismay as she looked up at one of her former roommates, a basketball tucked under her arm. Elaine, who had become Bartholomew.

“Yep, I saw it myself. Brown spots and curling leaves on the Early Girls. Haven't you been praying over those plants?” Bartholomew teased.

Kacey grinned. “I have, but you know me and prayer. We have only a passing relationship.”

“Well, then you'd better get some poison. Mary Agnes is expecting a bumper crop this year!”

“Shit!” Kacey exclaimed, standing up and shaking dirt from her skirt.

Bartholomew lobbed the ball at Kacey. “A little one-on-one?”

Kacey tossed the ball back. “Nope. Too tired. And now I s'pose I'd better check on those plants!”

“Oh, they'll be all right,” Bartholomew laughed. “Just say a couple Hail Mary's over them.”

“If only life were that simple.”

“You don't think it is?” The two walked side by side toward the tomatoes. Kacey glanced at her friend. She wasn't sure if she was being teased. Bartholomew was often irreverent, a side of her which Kacey especially appreciated, but she knew her faith was deep and, to Kacey, irritatingly real.

Kacey plucked off a withered leaf. “No, I don't think anything in life is simple!” Kacey's frustration showed. “Now just leave me alone with my dilemma!”

But Bartholomew laughed again. “Oh, come on now! Throw in a couple Our Fathers for good measure, and everything'll be hunky-dory!”

The Fourth of July was just around the corner, and Kacey's corn was nearly knee high. Through ruthless sprayings, her Early Girls were on the mend. All was well in Kacey's garden. She walked the rows as one would walk a labyrinth, deep in meditation, seeking clarity, pursuing honesty.

Final vows were now less than a month away. She could hear the older sisters in the chapel, practicing their hymns for the occasion. The music was so rich, Kacey sometimes wept. “Guardian Angel from Heaven So Bright” they sang, their faces beaming with love.

Guardian Angel from Heaven so bright.

Watching beside me to lead me aright.

Fold thy wings round me, O guard me with love.

Softly sing songs to me of heav'n above.

Less than one month.
Oh, God! Oh, God
. . .

Lisa was on her way to the rec room as Kacey came around the corner. “Good timing!” Lisa called out. “Callistus and Angelica want to start a Scrabble tournament!”

Kacey shook her head, “Don't feel like it. Go without me.”

“I can't! I need someone to play against that I can beat, and that's always you!”

In spite of herself, Kacey had to laugh. “Oh, okay, but walk slowly.” Her face became taut, the smile gone. “I need to tell you something.”

“Sounds mysterious. What's up?”

Kacey stopped, looking into Lisa's face. “It's serious, Lisa.”

“I'm sorry. What is it?”

Kacey paused, then blurted out, “I know this isn't a good time, but I've got to spit it out. I don't know if I can go through with final vows.”

“Oh, wow,” Lisa murmured, her face clouding.

Kacey grimaced. “You know how hard it's been for me.”

“Well, sure, I've seen it. But it'll—”

Kacey interrupted her. “Instead of getting easier, it just gets harder. And now, teaching catechism this summer to these wonderful, open kids, I'm a hypocrite, teaching them things I don't even believe!”

“Oh, Kacey, no. What don't you believe?”

“Take your pick! Just about anything out of the Baltimore Catechism!”

“Oh, come on, it's not that big of a dea—”

But Kacey would not be stopped. “Mortal sin, venial sin, the seven deadly sins. Sin, sin, sin! Confession and repentance! This isn't what drew me in, ya know? I came in wanting to do some good in this world. Honest to God!” She was quiet for a moment, struggle etched on her face. “It shouldn't be this hard.”

Lisa wanted to say the right thing. “I think we all feel that way sometimes.”

But Kacey was insistent. “No, not the way I feel. I don't think so. It gets even worse.” She looked at Lisa.

“Worse?”

“Yeah, the whole Jesus thing.”

“The Jesus thing?”

“Lisa, stop repeating everything I say! You're making me nervous!”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just don't know what to say!”

“Don't say anything. Just listen. It's about—oh, I don't know. It's about having to sing ‘O Sacred Head, Now Wounded,' or ‘Jesus Christ Is Risen Today.' I don't really believe any of it! All that Jesus stuff! I mean, I'm sure Jesus was a fine guy and everything, but really . . .”

Lisa was listening intently. She scowled as she tried to take it all in. Then her face relaxed. “Kace, have you heard of Bishop James Pike?”

“Sure, but he's Episcopalian, isn't he?”

“He is. And mighty radical. I just read an article about him in
Time
.” Lisa was pleased with herself. “Believe me, I think you two are singing from the same hymnal! He says you don't have to buy the whole package to be a Christian!”

Now Kacey was interested. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“He calls the concept of original sin and belief in the Trinity ‘excess baggage.' Says they're not important. And he challenges the infallibility of the Bible, too!”

“Holy cow!” Kacey exclaimed, her eyes widening.

“And he was
bishop
of the Episcopal Church of California! Think of it!”

Kacey shook her head. “I guess I've never paid much attention to him. I knew his name, but—”

“Know what he calls himself? ‘God's maverick.' See what I'm trying to get at, Kace? You may never become mother general of our community, but you can be God's maverick and be true to yourself! You have so much to give!”

“Aww, I don't know . . .”

“I do,” Lisa replied, “You'll be a great sister, Kace. You're just what we need!” She would not be stopped. “I've told you before. Think of this as boot camp. We just have to put up with it till the real thing comes along! We're almost there! You can do this!”

“I don't know, Lisa,” Kacey repeated.

Sister Mary Leo was watering the plants in her office when Kacey slipped through the door. It had been three years since Kacey had sat in this beloved sister's class, but her memories of those hours discussing the Moral Issues of the Twentieth Century were still vivid. This was a woman who knew how to challenge you, to make you search deeper than you thought yourself capable.

Mary Leo turned from the spider plant and was surprised to discover Kacey.

“Mary Laurence! You startled me!”

“Oh, sorry, Sister Mary Leo! I didn't mean to. I just wanted to talk with you, if I may.”

The smile was immediate and warm. “Well, of course! What can I do for you?”

The older nun motioned Kacey to a desk side chair. Kacey sat down and fell silent. Suddenly, she had no idea what to say.

“What is it?” Mary Leo looked fully into Kacey's face with such kindness, Kacey was caught off guard.

“I'm not sure I can—I
should
take final vows!” she blurted out. Mary Leo's expression changed to one of distress. But Kacey plunged ahead. “I think back to your moral issues class. It seemed simpler in the classroom, you know? Sitting there, picking and choosing which problems we'd discuss—we'd
solve!
But now I'm finding myself asking how I'd solve anything if I'm tucked away from the world like this! And I'm having all these doubts—”

Mary Leo moved to the edge of her chair, raising her hand before Kacey's anguished face. “Please! Please, I must stop you!” Kacey shrank back into her chair, stunned by the response. Mary Leo gave Kacey a moment to recover. Then, in a voice rich with concern, she said, “Mary Laurence, I'm your teacher, but I'm not your spiritual director.”

Kacey tried to interrupt, but Mary Leo would not allow it.

“It matters to me, what you're saying. It matters so much that I must make sure you avail yourself of proper guidance. That guidance doesn't begin with me.”

Kacey tried again. “But you're the one who knows me best! You understand me!”

Mary Leo smiled sympathetically. “You may be right, but you still must go through channels. Please go to Mary Julian. She's your superior. You know she's a good woman.”

“Yes, but—”

“Talk to her. Seek her counsel. Then if you still want to speak with me, ask her permission. When you have it, I'll be here for you.” Mary Leo rose to her full height, still smiling.

“Shit!
”
Kacey thought as she moved reluctantly out the door.