Sister Kathleen Deignan traces her interest in genetics back to the girl who was studying to become a member of her religious order and the boy Sister Deignan introduced her to. Her matchmaker's work eventually led to marriage and two children, both of whom were later found to have a serious genetic disorder.
Today, Sister Deignan, a member of the Congregation of Notre Dame, finds herself part of the contentious public debate about the future of genetic science and is keenly aware that the intersection of genetics and faith is fraught with distrust and suspicion.
"But," said Sister Deignan, 56, "we do have to explore what the integrity of human life is, in all its wholeness."
As scientific advances have brought about developments ranging from engineered fruit to Dolly the cloned sheep, many religious leaders have reacted with alarm and scorn. President Bush's restrictions on embryonic stem-cell research has also divided some Republicans, who believe it holds great promise for medical research, from religious conservatives, who oppose the research because it involves the destruction of human embryos.
Sister Deignan, who wears a silver cross, has auburn hair and plays a mean guitar, was a prime mover behind a conference held last week at Iona College on the future of genetics, and the potential and controversy attached to it. Sister Deignan, who has taught religion at Iona, a Roman Catholic college here, for more than two decades, firmly embraces the importance of genetics research even if it has raised alarms within the Catholic Church. "We need to weigh and discuss all of these fragile questions,'' she says.
Her interest in genetics was spurred by a young student with such scant interest in science that she would drop biology and chemistry courses in order to take more religion classes. The student, Sharon Terry, was so taken by Sister Deignan that after graduating from a Catholic high school in Waterbury, Conn., where Sister Deignan was teaching, she decided she wanted to become a nun. Life and love eventually forced a shift in plans, but Mrs. Terry, now 47, remained a lay member of Sister Deignan's order and went to work as a college chaplain in Worcester, Mass.
About 10 years ago, Mrs. Terry took her two young children, a boy and a girl, to a doctor, concerned that a rash they both had never seemed to go away. The rash turned out to be a symptom of a rare genetic disease, pseudoxanthoma elasticum, that can lead to blindness and, in some cases, fatal heart and intestinal problems.
When Mrs. Terry told Sister Deignan about the diagnosis, Sister Deignan said she was so shaken that she felt physical pain. After a moment, though, Sister Deignan told Mrs. Terry that "we must do anything we can to find a cure.''
Mrs. Terry, along with her husband, Patrick, started an advocacy group called the Genetic Alliance, based in Washington, that promotes research, and she asked Sister Deignan to organize the conference held last week with the aim of demystifying genetic study.
Leading scientists were brought in to help translate scientific jargon for public consumption and, perhaps, to help defuse some of the more strident faith-based objections to genetic research. The main speaker was Dr. Francis Collins, director of the genome center at the National Institutes of Health, who said that topics like evolution and genetics are not incompatible with faith. "If God chose to use the mechanism of evolution to carry out his creative powers and have forms that will honor him, how can that be clumsy or inelegant?'' he asked.
Still, Sister Deignan, aware of the divisive nature of the discussion, takes pains to point out that her involvement with the conference came as a representative of Iona, not of her order.
Sister Deignan was born to Irish immigrants on the Upper West Side "before the Yuppies," she says, "when Zabar's was just a little pickle store." Smitten by the "mysterious allure" of the life of a nun, she embarked on a systematic study of different religious orders, going to something akin to a job fair for prospective nuns and spreading the literature she collected over her bed. She chose the Congregation of Notre Dame because she thought it was the most progressive and musically oriented order, and she spent two years studying and praying before attending Sacred Heart University in Fairfield, Conn., and starting a teaching career.
THEN she met Mrs. Terry, whose personal story and passionate advocacy for her children led Sister Deignan to reflect on the relationship between science and faith.
Mrs. Terry began the conference with a speech describing her children's disease and how it made her an ardent supporter of genetic research. Later, at lunch, she and Sister Deignan spoke about Sister Deignan's musical career - she sets scripture to song. Mrs. Terry helps by producing and distributing her CD's. Sister Deignan laughed at Mrs. Terry's jokes describing her as "Maria von Trapp meets the genome."
Genetics, Sister Deignan said, was a relatively newfound focus. But music has been with her from the start.
"It probably goes back to me being Irish," said Sister Deignan, a smile breaking out. "I think it is just- excuse me - in the genes."