An apparently straightforward and heartwarming story about three Austrian nuns appeared in my newsfeed. Bernadette, 88; Regina, 86; and Rita, 82 are Benedictine nuns who live out their vocation in Schloss Goldenstein, a former castle near Salzburg which is now a monastery. Since the 18th century, it has housed communities of Benedictine and Augustinian religious. In recent years, however, those being called to monastic life have become fewer in number. The three nuns are the last remaining members.

Under regulations issued in 2018 by the Catholic Church, a religious community numbering less than six has a superior appointed to determine their future. This job fell to Provost Markus Grasl of Reichersberg Abbey. He consulted the nuns about the practicality of keeping the three of them in a large former castle. In December 2023, with the nuns’ agreement, they were transferred to a Franciscan run home for senior living. As Provost Grasl later explained, 

"Due to the sisters' advanced age and precarious health, as well as the spiritual needs of the order and the structural condition of the monastery, independent living at Goldenstein Monastery was no longer possible or justifiable. This step was necessary to ensure care, support, and protection from possible neglect and abuse by third parties.”

That might have been the end of the story, had not matters taken an unexpected turn. On September 4, 2025, the sisters, aided by a former student and a locksmith (who unlocked the doors), re-entered Schloss Goldenstein to resume their former life. Sister Bernadette explains, “It was always said that it [the senior home] was about short-term care, but they didn't care about us anymore. And we finally wanted to go back home, to the monastery.” When contemplating the thought of dying in the senior home, she says “I would prefer to lie down in a meadow.”

The nuns had had been persuaded to enter senior living by the church. At the nursing home, the three octogenarians would be comfortable and have access to medical care and treatment. It seemed an obvious and sensible move. But having arrived there, the nuns had a change of heart and set about plotting their escape.

Unsurprisingly, the kloster rebellinnen are now in trouble with the church authorities. Provost Grasl described the situation as “completely incomprehensible.” However, once the news became public, there was a swell of public support for the sisters. Happy to be back in their old home, the nuns returned to their previous routine of prayer and hospitality. 

Not everything is the same. The stairlifts no longer work. The garden is overgrown. They found a "worthy and deeply pious” 91 year old priest to come and say Mass. They have an Instagram account with tens of thousands of followers. 

The Catholic Church has allowed the nuns to stay, for the time being. The nuns’ story recalls that of Bernard Jordan, the 89 year old British war veteran who escaped from his nursing home in 2014 to attend the 70th anniversary of the D-Day landings in France. There’s something to be said for elderly rebellion: a refusal to toe the line, act your age and meekly accept your lot. In their respective pictures, the nuns and former serviceman look supremely happy.

But were the nuns right to do it? In The Courage to Grow Old, Barbara Cawthorn Crafton talks about the importance of taking responsibility for your own future and moving into a care home before it is forced upon you. She writes,

“Of course you don’t want to enter a nursing home - you’d rather be strong, healthy and live forever. But that option is not for sale, and “I don’t want to” isn’t much of an argument in face of the medical and practical needs you may have.”

The nuns are fortunate in having people who are prepared to come to the convent and meet their needs. One sister has her legs bandaged twice a day. Visitors bring food. 

The nuns’ rebellion raises questions over a vow they made when they were professed: the vow of obedience. (The other vows are poverty and chastity). Religious - nuns and monks - are not permitted to follow their own will, but must follow the will of their superiors. Obedience matters because it reflects the obedience of Christ in following his Father’s will. The nuns’ disobedience betrays their vow and brings the Church into disrepute. (Which perhaps explains the nuns’ current celebrity status.)

Several centuries ago, the French priest and spiritual director Jean Pierre de Caussade was moved from one place to another. It wasn’t what he had wanted, but he considered that, if God had put him there, then God had some good purpose for him in that place. De Caussade practiced abandonment to God’s providence throughout his life. What hidden ministry had the sisters not seen in the nursing home? 

There is another way of seeing this, which is to say that God called the sisters back to the convent. “God made me do it,” they could have said, although they were honest in saying they simply wanted to return. Their story highlights the fact that the relationship we have with our home and surroundings is deeper than we realize. In preparing for their final journey to heaven, the nuns were drawn back to where they felt a greater sense of integration: the familiar chapel, the rooms where prayers were offered and resonated through the centuries, the community of younger people whom they had once taught and who were now serving their needs.

I’m sure somebody once said - or maybe not, so I will say it now - that there is nothing on earth more formidable than a nun. Speak to anyone who has been taught by one, and you will get a knowing look and a nod of the head. God often grants nuns a long life, which may be a blessing but could also reflect God’s reluctance to meet them. I jest, of course. But I would not attempt to set myself against a trio of such women. They will be what they will be, God bless them - in a place of their choosing, as it happens. 

Father David