Set against the snow-capped peaks of Salzburg, Austria, the convent chapel at Schloss Goldenstein is a picture of peace this Advent season. But behind the candlelit stillness, an extraordinary story of faith, defiance, and digital-age controversy continues to unfold. At the heart of it all are three octogenarian nuns—Sisters Rita, Regina, and Bernadette—whose lives have become the subject of national fascination and a Vatican-level dispute.
In early December 2025, these sisters, aged 81, 86, and 88 respectively, were found quietly praying in their convent chapel—a far cry from the media frenzy that surrounded them just months earlier. According to NPR, the sisters had, in September, staged a dramatic return to their beloved convent after fleeing a care home where they claimed they’d been sent against their will by their superior, Provost Markus Grasl. Their return was anything but discreet: flanked by Austria’s biggest tabloid, they “broke back in” to Schloss Goldenstein, igniting a storm of public attention and institutional backlash.
Provost Grasl, who heads the local abbey, accused the sisters of breaking their vows with this bold act. Initially, he refused to allow them to remain at the convent. But by November, perhaps feeling the pressure from both the public and the press, he relented—at least partially. He offered to let them stay “until further notice,” but only if they agreed to a strict set of conditions: no social media, no press interviews, and no seeking legal counsel. The sisters, unwavering in their resolve, rejected what they called a “gag order” in early December. “We simply hope that God’s hand will guide what happens,” Sister Bernadette told NPR, her faith undimmed by the uncertainty.
The Vatican soon became involved, with both sides appealing for intervention. On December 17, 2025, the sisters announced they would withdraw from social media “until further notice,” complying with a Vatican request to “spend Advent and Christmas in inner peace and reflection.” Their statement marked a pause in their digital presence, which had become unexpectedly influential. Their Instagram account, @nonnen_goldenstein, had amassed more than 280,000 followers by December, thanks to posts featuring everything from contemplative moments to Sister Rita’s playful boxing sessions. “The boxing sessions were fun,” Sister Rita admitted with a smile, as quoted by NPR. “I’m not sure they needed posting on Instagram, but if our followers enjoy seeing me box, then so be it!”
Yet, not everyone was amused by their newfound celebrity. Provost Grasl’s spokesperson, Harald Schiffl, was blunt: “The sisters’ social media presence has very little to do with real religious life, and this is why the abbey wishes to discontinue their Instagram account,” he told NPR. The tension between tradition and modernity—between cloistered devotion and the viral power of social media—was suddenly on full display.
The sisters themselves, however, insisted that their online presence was never about fame. “Our Instagram account lets us spread the word and help a new generation find Jesus in their hearts,” explained Sister Bernadette. But as she navigated the convent’s steep spiral staircase on a newly installed stair lift, she confessed that becoming “novice influencers” was a steep learning curve. Internal disagreements among their helpers about how to manage the account only added to the complications. Christina Wirtenberger, a former student who now supports the sisters, told NPR she had insisted posts should only go live with the sisters’ explicit approval—a claim the sisters now say was not honored.
In a statement released on December 17, the nuns distanced themselves from the Instagram account, declaring that “none of the posts and comments published to the @nonnen_goldenstein Instagram account were brought to our attention beforehand or subsequently approved by us.” They further stated that any continuing activity on the account during their social media pause was “expressly against our will.” Despite this, the account, still managed by a volunteer, continued to post, even addressing the sisters’ withdrawal and disputing their lack of involvement.
Beneath the digital drama lies a more sobering reality: the sisters’ financial independence has been severely compromised. According to NPR’s reporting and statements from Wirtenberger, the nuns no longer have access to their pensions, which are paid monthly into a savings account administered solely by Provost Grasl. This has left them reliant on donations from supporters—a situation Wirtenberger describes as “unnecessarily dependent.”
The financial tangle deepened when the provost was accused of wrongfully claiming state benefits to pay for the sisters’ care home stay. After these allegations surfaced in the media in November, Grasl returned the welfare payments, insisting through his spokesperson that the application and approval had been a “completely normal process” and that the matter was now resolved. Salzburg’s district commissioner, Karin Gföllner, explained to Austria’s APA news agency that the provost had failed to provide full details of the sisters’ financial situation, leading authorities to halt the benefits once the facts were clear.
Through it all, the sisters have maintained a posture of prayer and forgiveness, even as they wait for the Vatican’s decision on their future. Sister Bernadette recounted that they had prayed for the provost “with every rosary for six weeks nonstop, but it got so exhausting we decided to save our litany for him for weekly Mass.” Their devotion, however, is matched by a quiet determination to see justice done. The sisters and their supporters have appealed to the Vatican not only for a “just, humane, and sustainable solution” but also for Provost Grasl to be relieved of his duties overseeing their order.
For now, the world watches and waits alongside Sisters Rita, Regina, and Bernadette. Their story—a blend of age-old faith, institutional conflict, and the unpredictable power of social media—has struck a chord far beyond the Alpine valleys of Salzburg. As Advent gives way to Christmas, the sisters remain hopeful, grateful for the support of their followers, and steadfast in their prayers. “Without the support of the media, we would have been defenseless and helpless against the ruthlessness and arbitrariness of our superior,” they wrote in their statement. And as Sister Bernadette, ever the optimist, put it: “Amen. Hallelujah.”
As the candles burn in the convent chapel, the fate of these three nuns hangs in the balance—awaiting a decision from Rome that could define the next chapter of their remarkable lives.