I’ve always known that the sacrifice we make as religious in not having families “of our own” is not merely a privation, nor only a way to put God at the absolute center of our lives. With all the distortions and failures in celibacy we see in the news, it may be hard to believe, but a life of celibacy “for the kingdom” is actually intended to open our hearts up and make room in them for a chaste and selfless love for the ever-growing family God entrusts to each of us.
Celibate chastity helps me to be a mother, sister, aunt, and daughter within a diverse and immense family, a family which includes my blood family, sisters in community, those we minister with and serve, everyone in the Church, those we serve alongside, all the people who’ve asked us to pray for them, people we meet at retreats and missions, that woman whose name I don’t know whom I always see walking down Seventh Street… you get the idea!
The reality of this, and the gift of it, hit me deeply a few months ago. It was a Tuesday, so I was supposed to be helping out at the Urban Thrift Store, but it was closed because of snow. But the roads seemed okay, so I decided to pop down to the Dormitory Shelter – due to the snow, I figured most of the guests would be hanging around with time on their hands, so it presented an ideal opportunity to have quality time with my brothers and sisters there.
Truth be told, I was a little self-conscious about popping in unexpected and with no real objectives (though I was hoping to work in an impromptu Bible Study!). But as I walked in, it was evident that my fears were groundless: it seemed my family at the Shelter had been waiting for me to “come home”! I spent the morning there sharing stories, hobbies, and fellowship with the guests and did manage to break open the Word together, too. After a while, I thought I’d call over to the store to see if they needed help shoveling snow, at least – and when I looked at my phone, I saw I had a voicemail from my Mom, who was calling to let me know my grandmother was dying, and I needed to come home.
I turned from listening to the voicemail to say goodbye to my brothers and sisters, and when I said I had to go, one woman began to cry, “It was just so good having you here!” That broke my heart. Then I told her why I had to go – to say goodbye to my grandmother – and she looked me in the eye and said, “Oh – I’m so sorry you have to go through that. I will pray for you and for your grandmother.”
Now that really broke my heart. This woman – experiencing loss on a scale I can’t begin to understand – was family to me, had made a place for me in her heart even as I had one in my heart for her. I carried the comfort of her prayers and care with me through the next week of sorrow as my grandmother died and we celebrated her funeral, and when I came back home, she was anxious to hear how everything had been.
It is hard, not being able to be with my blood family for all their moments of both stress and celebration. It can sting sometimes when I remember that unlike most of my friends I am not making a little family of my own, partnering with a husband to raise children who will go out and change the world and pass on to others the love they’ve received from me. It is demanding to live in community with sisters I have not chosen, who come from different backgrounds and have different ways of understanding and living in the world.
But bigger than the sacrifices of celibacy and community life is the gift, expressed in countless ways from day to day. That gift is family.
Watch a beautiful 3-min. video about our ministry in downtown Steubenville here.
-Sr. Agnes Therese Davis, T.O.R.
