Chapter Three

 

Love Divine

 

            Father Christopher Utermollen was saddened when he learned Sister Mary Sebastian Schmidt was leaving the order. Mother Superior was reluctant to inform Father of Sister Sebastian’s decision. But she had to tell him because a replacement nun could not arrive from the motherhouse for at least a week. There were only five sisters teaching at St. Matthias; the rest were laypersons. But all five were necessary. Mother Superior served as principal, but she still taught third grade.

            Why did she wish to become a laywoman again? Mother Superior asked, but her sister in the Congregation of the Holy Spirit gave only a routine answer: she no longer felt she had a vocation to pray and to teach. That explanation seemed strangely inadequate. After all, Sister Sebastian had entered the order when she was 22, and that was nearly a half-century ago. A religious not far from her 70th birthday would have come to that kind of conclusion about a vocation long before reaching such an age. In any event, the nun left the religious life after following the required regimen.

 

            Emma Louise Schmidt grew up on the near north side of <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />Columbus, Ohio, the third daughter of a die maker and a housewife. She was the middle child of five. A product of her parish school and the closest diocesan high school, she did not seem a particularly appropriate prospect for the religious life. She may not have been the most popular girl in her high school class, but she dated more than one boy and was known to have an occasional smoke. She would have a forbidden beer now and then if that meant she could avoid being teased by her peers. Yet she was not known as being “fast,” as the term was used back then.

            Bud Abernathy was in Emma’s math class in both the junior and senior years. If anyone could be classed as a “steady” for her, perhaps he was. They saw quite a bit of each other. Bud, who never told outsiders his given name (Gilbert), entered Ohio State, but his matriculation really never prospered. Emma managed a partial scholarship as a “day-hop” to St. Mary of the Springs. The Dominicans that taught there impressed her, but not enough to consider joining their order.

            Emma and Bud continued dating for a time although the ardor between them cooled. Nonetheless, Bud and his innate sense of humor  were not lost to Emma’s memory; actually, they were enhanced as years advanced. Bud dropped out of college, became a cop and married. Emma graduated with a M.A. in sociology and wondered why she had turned more to thinking about a religious life.

            She had been a good enough Catholic, enough to avoid the pitfalls many of her classmates tumbled into. She had stopped dating after Bud dropped out of school. Subconsciously, perhaps, she desired stability. They had talked of “going steady,” but not of marriage. Co-habitation was considered by very few couples at a time that was frowned on by society and pretty difficult to arrange due to contemporary mores. They had never considered such an arrangement; their families would have been adamant against it.

            Emma found her degree was useless without graduate work. She could only find a joy at a local insurance firm doing secretarial work. That was not interesting. She began to spend more time in church, especially at the Cathedral, not too far from her office. On a whim she applied to the Congregation of the Holy Spirit, the order of a sister she met at church.

            Normally novices aspiring to the religious life on a whim would be found out swiftly and encouraged to leave the convent. The longer she was in the convent the more the regularity of the life appealed to her. She did not find the mandated obedience equated to regimentation, but rather a rhythmic way of living. Soon she became caught up in the pattern of life offered, indeed required, by the order and enjoyed the peacefulness. She was trained in rudimentary pedagogy while she was readied for her final vows. Soon after that, she was dispatched to teach second grade at a parochial school in Pennsylvania.

 

            Many schools and many grades in many locations became part of Sister Sebastian’s resume. Most of the moves were caused by the order’s reduced numbers as vocations to the religious life declined and parishes were forced to close their schools or convert to lay teachers, something only the more wealthy parishes could afford. It was not out of the question she should wind up in Maplewood at St. Matthias School. That parish had a long history of supporting a grade school, and the bishop was persuasive in having the order assign as many sisters as it could to that diocesan school.

            Despite her age, Sister Sebastian was still teaching. Her health was good, the need for teachers great. After so many years, she still found a challenge. She had disciplinary skills honed at schools serving a range of income classes. Teaching sisters were somehow expected – especially by parishioners -- to be pious and holy. Comparisons with nuns – a term properly used only for religious women living meditative lives in monasteries – of teaching sisters was something Catholics were discouraged to make. Catholics in the pews also were taught to avoid comparing their religious fervor with others in church for the interior life is a very personal thing, a territory generally explored only by spiritual directors. The state of Sister Sebastian’s soul was known to her alone; only those in the convent would know if she had a spiritual director.

           

            Among the teaching tools Sister had acquired was how to use computers and the Internet. She could not program computers and she did not know everything about software, yet she was pretty good. She certainly was good enough to instruct her pupils, now that she was teaching eighth grade. The school’s computers were decent enough to use for research and other classroom uses. Sister Sebastian had her own e-mail address, a handy tool for acquiring information and material for the classroom.

 

            Bud Abernathy had time on his hands after his divorce. He had advanced to lieutenant on the force and usually had regular hours. He and Bernice had four kids that, in time, married, settled down and had children of their own. Bud was proud of his six grandchildren, whose own parents managed to beat the trend of the times and stay wed. They sawthat divorce didn’t make their father and mother happier. Bud retired as soon as he could. He was young enough to continue hunting, fishing and golfing. He and Bernice remained in touch, but little more than that. Their breakup centered on Bud’s drinking. He really had not been a drunk, but he was close to it. Her nagging did nothing to reduce his consumption of, mostly, beer. He resented what he believed was unjust condemnation. It is true, the condemnation was nearly ceaseless. After the divorce, Bud seemed to cut back on the number of beers he drank each day, getting down to a regular intake of one or two, period. Previously it had been at least a six-pack after work. Whether Bernice knew of his cutback in drinking is unknown. Just after Bud retired, Bernice’s chronic pain was diagnosed as stomach cancer. She died within five months of the diagnosis.

 

            His retirement income was enough to keep Bud and his hobbies going without financial pain. That included occasional hunting and fishing forays into Western states, and some winter golf outings in the South. The bachelor life was fine with him, When he wasn’t traveling he watched TV. Then one of his kids got him interested in computers, actually e-mail and Web surfing. Those became even more important to him as he aged and his arthritis flared up.

 

            It was purely by chance that when he ran into an old classmate from the old parish school. They got around to talking about the Internet and Peggy O’Hanlon mentioned that she had received an e-mail from Sister Sebastian, “You know, Emma Schmidt.” Bud recognized her name immediately and with some fondness. He asked for her e-mail address.

 

 

HI, SISTER.THOUGHT I’D DROP YOU A LINE TO SAY HELLO. MAYBE YOU REMEMBER ME, BUD ABERNATHY. WE WERE IN SCHOOL TOGETHER. I’VE THOUGHT OF YOU FROM TIME TO TIME. HEARD YOU HAD ENTERED THE CONVENT, BUT NOTHING ELSE. HOPE ALL IS WELL WITH YOU. YOU MIGHT SAY A PRAYER FOR MY LATE WIFE, BERNICE. ME TOO.  BEST WISHES.

 

[CONTINUED BELOW]