11/28/07:

"Locality" - Felice Maciejewski

LOCALITY

As a librarian I always consult the dictionary when I am unsure of the meaning of a word.  According to the Oxford English Dictionary (which y’all have access to through the library) one of the definitions of locality is: The fact of being local, in the sense of belonging to a particular spot. The  Norbertines define the  charism of locality as making a permanent commitment to the locale where an abbey founded, to discern what is most useful to the area, and then become one with the area. 

After considering all of the abbeys we visited, I chose to focus on the community of Premonstratensian nuns in Doksany in the Czech Republic.

 Doksany is located near the Ohre river and near the town of Terezin, the site of a former concentration camp. It is a rural area with fields of rapeseed that make the landscape a bright yellow. The cloister was founded in the mid-12th century and has seen many wars and disputes over time.

My first impression was “Oh, my God, this looks like a set out of a Fellini film”. It looked rundown, war-torn, overgrown, with odd characters hanging around the courtyard. It took us a while to find the entrance to the area where the nuns actually lived. You see, the part of the convent where we were standing was taken over by the government and is now low income housing.

 Once we found the nuns’ side of the convent we were greeted by Sisters Norberta and Augusta. Again, another large courtyard surrounded by buildings, but at least it was cheerful. Flowers were growing, an herb and vegetable garden just outside the gates was neat and full of color. A wing of the cloister was under renovation. We were given a tour of the convent and the church as Sister Augusta spoke about the history of the convent. Sister Augusta explained that after the communist took control of the Czech republic in 1968 all of the religious orders were shut down. Much of the convent was ransacked, artwork and books destroyed or vandalized.  After the fall of the communists in 1990, the religious orders came out of hiding and began rebuilding their communities. You could tell the church was spectacular before the communists. Now it is the gathering place for ten parishioners- I repeat- 10 parishioners. The nuns minister to these ten and the others that come to them for assistance.

As we walked back to the convent’s community room  I chatted with Sister Norberta. She was the oldest of the seven nuns. I asked her how long she had been a nun and she told me only ten years. She had been an architect prior to becoming a nun. After wiping the surprised look off of my face, I asked her why, after having a career as an architect, and having lived in Prague, a city full of culture and activity, would she become a nun and live in Doksany. She said it was her calling and then gestured out beyond the walls of the courtyard, to Doksany.

I thought about the nuns on our ride back to Prague and tried to imagine living in that tiny rundown town of Doksany. I had questions for them. How do you give up a career to follow your heart? How do you know you are  called to a vocation? How do you stay so darn cheerful and positive?  I was in awe of their spirit and stick-to-it-tiveness.

 I believe that Sister Norberta defined locality for me with that sweeping gesture beyond the gates of the cloister. To serve your community, to become one with your community, to belong to Doksany- even if it is ten people at a time.