With sisters of St. Theresa’s College after offering my bridal bouquet to Our Lady at the college chapel in Quezon City
LUCILA OCAMPO-DYPIANGCO
On March 19, 1958, I was nineteen and newly graduated from St. Theresa’s College in Manila, an English major with a double degree of AB-BSE. I enrolled at the Ateneo Graduate School that summer to pursue an MA in English. A chance meeting with Sister Patricia Blanchet, a former high school teacher, led me to my first teaching position.
But on May 1, 1959, my friends watched me walk into the abbey, the door closing behind me, as I began my new life as a Missionary Sister of the Immaculate Conception.
What happened? What prompted me to exchange my family, the comforts and privacy and freedom I had taken for granted, and a future that could include a family of my own, for the convent’s regimented life under the watchful eyes of religious superiors? How did I decide to do this so quickly?
Sister Patricia had advised me: “Don’t give your left-over to your future husband or God… studying and teaching could take your time and energy, distracting you from more important tasks. You may let your chance slip by.”
Sister Patricia further explained, “Whatever vocation you choose, do what God wants you to do, so you can be what God wants you to be. That seems to be the only way to be happy. God has a plan for each of us, a particular task which He has not assigned to anybody else. So if we do not perform that task, it will never get done.”
I had to do the task God had assigned to me. How can I tell Him I love Him if I let Him down? The sooner I found out His will for me, the better! I would never give God the left-over of my life.
I consulted Father Culligan, who had been my Educational Psychology teacher. He was a wise and kind Jesuit with an infectious sense of humor. I could always go to him for advice at his office, where he did counseling.
“Father, I think I have a religious vocation. Could you please help me find out if God wants me to be a nun?”
“What made you think God is calling you?”
Because I think I meet all the requirements for being a nun!
“And what would they be?”
1. Good physical health. I hardly ever get sick.
2. Good mental ability. I get good-enough grades without studying.
3. Good moral character. I’ve never killed anyone nor done anything immoral.
4. Good motive. I will go to the convent only if God wants me to. That’s my only motive. I will feel guilty the rest of my life if I didn’t do the work He had planned for me.”
“Don’t you think that a good wife and mother also need those same qualities?
Get married and raise a family? That would be too good and too easy to be true! Where is the sacrifice there? How can I show my love for God without sacrificing the way Jesus did to show His love for me? “Greater love than this . . . .” Should I not be willing to give my life to Him too? If I only do what I want to do with my life, where is the love there? Is love not shown by sacrifice?
I did try to compromise with God. If You let me get married and raise a family, I’ll surrender all my children to be your priests and nuns!
I seemed to hear God saying, If I ask you for the tree, would you insist on offering the fruits?
I asked Fr. Culligan to tell me what to do in my misery, feelings of guilt, and selfishness. I would take his word as God’s word and do what he says.
“Lucila, this is between you and God. Only God can tell you what His will is for you. Ask him; He will show you. He may give you a shove, a gentle nudge, or may shout or whisper. Trust Him to guide your every step.”
I have to know now! I went back to Sister Patricia, whose parting words to me had triggered the whole problem.
“ Sister, suppose I entered the convent, and I found out God wasn’t calling me?”
“That’s precisely the purpose of a novitiate. A candidate has six-month probation to help her discern God’s will and another six months as a postulant to reflect on her vocation and as a formation period for the religious life. She then has two more years as a novice before she makes her first vows. Even more, time is needed before she makes her final vows. If she finds out that this life is not for her, she may leave at any time. It is the only vocation with a trial period. Can you imagine marriage with a novitiate!“
That did it! I would enter the novitiate with the sincere intention of staying there for good.
I felt relieved. My heart lightened. A welcome peace at last! I felt so close to the very heart of God!
I quickly notified my friends while my family shared the news with our relatives. Not everyone was happy for me, not even my closest friends.
“How long do you think this will last? You’ll be coming home when you eventually wake up to your senses.”
In the cool mountain air of Baguio, I breathed in serenity and relaxation and breathed out tension and anxiety. After the previous two months on my emotional roller-coaster and frenetic last-minute preparations, the peace of Baguio refreshed and recharged my body, mind, and spirit. The convent’s unhurried pace and our small community’s friendly atmosphere gave me a sense of well-being.
After several weeks, I began to miss home, my family, relatives and friends, the Ateneo, and my students. I was missing my bed. I lay awake at night thinking that I will never have my old room with my desk and books. I will always have a tiny cell-of-a-room like this one. Of course, this will be part of my sacrifice, but will I ever adjust? How long will it take for me to be happy again?
Why and how did I leave? The memories of that day and the days leading up to it are as fresh to me as though they just happened yesterday, not fifty-six years ago.
I wanted so hard to be the perfect nun. I could not tolerate my faults, like talking during the Grande Silence or being distracted during prayer. My mind wandered during meditation. The boring religion lessons were no more than a review of my grade-school Baltimore Catechism. Why scrub the floor and polish the parlor furniture daily when visitors were allowed only one Sunday afternoon a month? I tried to observe every convent rule but rebelled inside. I grew impatient with myself for being resentful. Slowly, emotional and spiritual tension made me doubt if this was where God wanted me to be. How could my good God and loving Father turn into this hard-to-please taskmaster? Still, I loved God. My heart ached for Jesus, who suffered and died for love of me.
I made frequent Stations of the Cross, meditating on the sufferings of Jesus Christ. I felt his pain each time he fell under the weight of his cross. I would see Him getting up after each fall with excruciating pain but going on to Golgotha. At each fall, I would mentally sing to Jesus the words of Frank Sinatra’s All the Way: “When somebody loves you, it’s no good unless he loves you all the way.” I poured out my heart to Jesus, telling Him I would go with Him all the way just as He did for me.
Meanwhile, I was expanding physically, my cincture getting tighter. I blamed the steady diet of peanut butter and jelly, which I consumed every morning with relish. I had become a compulsive eater, a peanut-butter-and-jelly-addict!
I consulted the Belgian priest who came for our Saturday afternoon confessions, telling him about my sleep deprivation caused by my growing scrupulosity, considerable weight gain, and doubts about my vocation.
“Father, I am afraid I am losing my vocation.”
“In the novitiate? It is not the place to lose a religious vocation. If you had stayed in the world, sure, you could lose it. But the novitiate is where you nourish it. Here your prayer life and regular activities help you nurture your calling. In this peace, you can hear God’s voice more clearly as He tells you his will.”
After a lengthy discussion and much questioning, Father asked,
“Have you ever lost a valise with a million pesos?”
“No, Father. How can I lose a valise with a million pesos when I never had a valise, nor have I ever seen as much money as a million pesos!”
“Exactly!” he exclaimed. “How could you lose something you never had?”
I never had? Those words clicked a light bulb in my mind, suffusing me with light. Sweet balm poured over me as the words sank in, lifting the weight of anxiety and guilt from me. God finally convinced me that he had other plans for me!
I realized that God was not the exacting Master I had perceived Him to be but a loving Father who loves me dearly. God loves me! He wants me to be happy, not straining to try to please Him. My happiness did not depend on me alone but His infinite love for me! Feeling great relief and profound peace, I left the convent.
January 1, 2020. Oscar and I now have four married sons and eight grandchildren.