The property was reportedly transferred in April, in the same month that nuns rejected the Vatican’s designation of a U.S. Carmelite federation to oversee them, amid an ongoing dispute with Bishop Olson.
But the move to transfer property raises some canonical red flags — and points to a controversial practice in Church leadership.
How so? The Pillar explains.
So what’s the latest with these nuns?
In April 2023, the Discalced Carmelites of Arlington, Texas, found themselves in a dispute with their bishop, who had launched a canonical investigation into the alleged conduct of Mother Teresa Agnes of Jesus Crucified Gerlach, O.C.D, who had allegedly admitted to violating her vow of chastity with an initially unnamed priest.
Lawyers for the community and for Gerlach, both civil and canonical, have said that her supposed admission of an affair was made following a serious medical procedure, under the influence of painkillers, and when she was in and out of lucidity.
But the issue escalated, coming to involve a million-dollar lawsuit filed by the nuns against Olson, images released by the Fort Worth diocese purporting to show tables inside the monastery strewn with large amounts of drug paraphernalia, and the Vatican’s involvement, supporting Olson and ordering new leadership for the monastery.
The dispute eventually saw the nuns formally announce an association with the Society of Pius X, a de facto traditionalist association of priests which has been described as having “imperfect communion” with the Apostolic See.
The nuns this month also announced the re-election of their former superior, Mother Teresa Agnes, in defiance of the Vatican’s appointment of a nun from another monastery as the Arlington Carmelites’ superior.
The nuns said they elected Gerlach with “supplied jurisdiction” from the SSPX — referencing a claimed argument which has been rejected by the Vatican, that priests of the association have “supplied jurisdiction from the law” for sacramental and pastoral ministry because “personal jurisdiction is unjustly refused to them simply because of their attachment to the Faith and its traditional expression.”
The Carmelites have garnered the support of the now-excommunicated Archbishop Carlo Vigano, and have had Mass celebrated illicitly by two priests without faculties, both from the Scranton, Pennsylvania diocese, one of whom was was accused of child sexual abuse and in 2012 prohibited from presenting himself as a priest or engaging in priestly ministry in the Fort Worth diocese.
While Olson has in the past suggested that the nuns’ action would be grounds for a latae sententiae excommunication, the bishop has not formally declared such a penalty.
Ok. So in the middle of that, they sold their property?
Well, it’s not clear whether the nuns actually sold their property or gave it away, but they did transfer the ownership to someone else.
In April, the nuns transferred their property civilly to a Texas non-profit, Friends of the Discalced Carmelite Nuns of Arlington, which is headquartered at the offices of the nun’s attorney, Matthew Bobo.
Bobo is also the head of the foundation. Other members of the non-profit board include a local real estate developer, a banker, and the president of Gonzaga University, whose sister is a prominent member of the community.
The move is apparently intended to ensure that if the community is canonically suppressed, the Fort Worth diocese won’t gain control of the monastery property. Bobo and the nuns have claimed for years that Olson wants to take over their property — a claim the bishop has repeatedly denied, calling it unfounded and unreasonable.
So the order doesn’t own their own monastery anymore?
Well, a transfer certainly has been effected in civil law.
But there are a few problems with it.
First is the question of who is actually in charge at the monastery.
The Vatican appointed in April a Carmelite from another monastery, Mother Marie of the Incarnation, O.C.D, as the legitimate superior of the Texes Carmel.
If the transfer was effected after her appointment, then the Carmelites would have no claim to be able to alienate the property without her approval and engagement.
And even before the appointment of Mother Marie, Olson himself had been given broad reaching authority over the monastery, which would seem to include administration of the order’s temporal goods — including its real property.
But regardless of who is in charge, monasteries of nuns aren’t allowed to sell off their real property — or even significant or expensive chunks of their property — without permission from the Vatican’s Dicastery for Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life.
And given the long-standing elements of controversy at the Arlington Carmel, it seems highly unlikely that the Vatican would have approved an alienation of property to a lay board, even if the proper authority had asked for it, when the move seems to designed to keep the property outside the scope of authority of ecclesiastical officials.
In short, the alienation is almost certainly invalid canonically, as seem to have been similar moves by U.S. religious-run apostolates in the past.
In fact, if the Carmelite nun saga was not otherwise completely full of surprises at every turn, The Pillar would feel confident calling it absolutely invalid.
So what will happen?
As with every part of the Carmelite monastery saga, it’s nearly impossible to predict what will happen next.
While Mother Marie of the Incarnation, and the Carmelite federation she represents, could file a civil suit against the alienation, courts are often unwilling to get involved in the internal affairs of religious institutes — especially in a situation this messy.
The Vatican could declare the attempted alienation invalid, either at the request of the Carmelite federation, or even of its own initiative — and the dicastery has shown itself willing to get into the weeds of the messy situation at the Arlington Carmel.
But the nuns actually living there have shown themselves increasingly unconcerned with Vatican decisions, especially as they’ve associated themselves more closely with the SSPX.
What’s certain is that a legal fight in civil court would be long and messy — and in canonical context, the prospect of righting things at the Carmel seems like a sisyphean task.
What all
that means is that the only thing certain about the Arlington Carmelite
story is that it is likely to continue dragging on — and with sex and
drugs already having played prominent roles, the third act seems poised
to be all about cold, hard, cash.