A remarkable path to Opus Dei: John Paul II and the Shins

By John Allen in Opus Dei

People find their way into Opus Dei in a variety of ways, but within that diversity, Louisa Shins, a Dutch supernumerary, followed one of the more remarkable paths. She was born in the south of Holland, where she attended a school for women looking to do domestic work. She met her husband while at school, and the two were married in 1961. They moved to Italy, where her husband pursued a career as a nuclear techni­cian. They lived about forty miles north of Milan, in a town on Lago Maggiore. They had three children, two boys and a girl, all of whom went to international schools and grew up speaking Dutch, Italian, and French.

When their oldest son turned eighteen, he decided to go to Amster­dam for university studies. After about a year, the son called home and said he had found an international residence that he liked very much, where he could be with young men from Spain, France, and Italy, as well as the Dutch. That residence, it turned out, was operated by Opus Dei. Then their second son headed off to Amsterdam and repeated the pat­tern. After one year he phoned his parents saying he too wanted to move into the Opus Dei residence. Shins said she didn’t know much about Opus Dei at this stage, merely that she had asked a Dutch Benedictine who had given Opus Dei a clean bill of health. After a while, however, she said she noticed changes in her boys, for the better. They didn’t argue with each other, and they seemed more focused, more responsible, more adult. Finally the daughter left for Holland, and she decided not to mess around, moving directly into an Opus Dei residence for university girls.

Not long afterward, the Shinses took a family vacation together in Spain. Louisa said she knew something had changed when one of her children proposed going to a weekday Mass, and the next day another pro­posed saying the rosary. Moreover, Shins said, she began to see changes in her daughter. She smiled more, she seemed content, and was always willing to help out around the house. “What a beautiful thing,” Shins re­calls thinking. At that stage she began attending Opus Dei retreats and get-togethers in Milan, despite having to travel some forty miles over foggy, dangerous roads.

At some point, she said, her children revealed to her that they planned to join Opus Dei as numeraries. She said she cried a bit and did not tell her husband because she didn’t want him to know yet that the children would not be coming home. At this stage, she said, she wasn’t quite sure what to make of Opus Dei, and her husband hadn’t shown any particular interest. Then, out of the blue, in 1987, one of the children phoned and proposed that the following weekend all five of them meet in Rome. Louisa got off work from her teaching job, and her husband, al­ready retired, was ready to go. When they met in Rome, two of the chil­dren took Louisa and her husband sightseeing, but the third said he needed to stay by the phone, because he had to call someone every hour. Shins thought that a bit odd, but didn’t make much of it. When they got back, the son announced: “Tomorrow we’re going to Mass with the pope.” Louisa said she didn’t sleep well that night with excitement, but wasn’t worried ... she had told the hotel manager that if they didn’t wake her at 4:00 A.M., she wouldn’t pay the bill.

The family went to the private Mass, and afterward everyone lined up to meet John Paul II. A Vatican aide told them they could make a bit of chitchat, so Louisa’s husband decided to ask a question out of professional interest. “Holy Father,” he asked, “what do you think of nuclear power?” It probably wasn’t the usual postliturgical fare, but John Paul was unfazed. “Research is always for the good,” he said. “We have to do a great deal of research. If something is clean and affordable, then it’s a good thing.” Her husband, Louisa said, was content with the response.

Then it was her turn, and Louisa decided to “pop the question.” Pointing to her children, she said: “Holy Father, we have three children in Opus Dei, and we don’t know much about it. We’ve heard some people with different opinions, some positive, some negative. Tell me what you think, because yours is the only opinion that really counts for me.” The pope looked at her and said, “These are your children?” Louisa said yes, and the pope turned and began speaking with the three of them. He chat­ted for a few moments, obviously developing a positive impression, then returned to Louisa and her husband.

Looking at the parents directly, the pope smiled and said: “And you’re not yet members?”

It was all downhill from there.

As a footnote, the next day the Shin family was in an audience with Bishop Alvaro del Portillo, the prelate of Opus Dei. Again, they were told they could ask a question, and so her husband decided this would be the ultimate test. Addressing himself to Portillo, he asked: “Father, what do you think of nuclear energy?” When Portillo responded with virtually the same words that John Paul II had used, Shins decided that Opus Dei was good enough for him. He and Louisa became supernumeraries shortly thereafter.