Not Our Kids, Opus Dei! - Part II

By Ruth Bertels

One morning in December, 1936, 11-year-old Maria Del Carmen Tapia left home to find food for her family in the war-torn city of Madrid, Spain. Children who grew up in the midst of Spain’s Civil War (July 29, 1936 to April 1939) understood the price of war.

In her autobiography, "Beyond the Threshold," Tapia tells of hunger and fear in her city, of mass executions and of losing 30 close relatives to the communists. By the end of the war, the young people had lost their childhood, and were eager for education.

Because money and books were scarce, students sold a book they had finished before buying a new one. They would also tear up books into sections and copy them by hand, better to share their treasures with others.

These adolescents of the Spanish Civil War – youngsters from 1940 to 1950 – became Opus Dei’s first recruits, under the founder Msgr. Josemaria Escriva.

His followers were to become a lay organization, whose purpose it was to bring Christ into the everyday world by prayer and example, supported by a small contingent of Opus Dei priests.

Around 1945, Tapia first heard of Opus Dei in unflattering terms because of its secretiveness.

When her fiancé accepted a job in Morocco, Tapia remained in Madrid and began work at Arbor, the general cultural journal of the Council of Scientific Research, as assistant to the associate director, Opus Dei’s Fr. Raimundo Panikkar, a British citizen of India, and a master of languages, both modern and classical.

Panikkar convinced Tapia that the negative reports about Opus Dei were nothing but slander. She was so impressed with Panikkar that Tapia asked him to be her spiritual director, and, later, made a seven-day retreat under him, during which she began to consider entering Opus Dei.

Eventually, Tapia broke her engagement and joined Opus Dei on New Year’s Eve, 1949, though she didn’t leave home until mid-January of 1950, at the age of 25, much against her parents’ wishes.

When Tapia arrived at the Opus Dei’s women’s house in Madrid, she received a cool reception and was told that, because of the lack of beds, she would sleep on the floor. Years later, when she was in a position to do so, Tapia made sure that every new member was made to feel welcome, and was given a bed.

After a couple of days, Tapia traveled 50 miles to the women’s house of study, where she was told that women sleep on boards every night, though priests and laymen sleep on mattresses because women are more sensual than men. (The age of chivalry was lost to Opus Dei.)

There was nothing unusual about the women’s daily schedule, with the recitation of the Psalms at various points in the day, examination of conscience, silence at stated periods, meditation, Mass, etc.

What was unusual, and what should have sent alarm bells ringing in Rome, was the matter of confession. Canon Law states that any member of a religious order may go to confession to whomever he or she chooses, with no questions asked, but Opus Dei members are directed to confess to only Opus Dei priests, and to only that priest assigned to individual members.

It gets worse. Tapia writes that a list was given to the priest of all who would confess that day and in the order given, which should have sent many members heading for the nearest exit.

Besides confession, an Opus Dei member was required to have weekly "fraternal chats" with the director. Added cause for alarm, for fraternal chats were not subject to the seal of confession.

 
     
 

By Ruth Bertels

 
 
 

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