The teetotal virgin twins known as G&T turn 60

Meet Gemma and Triona King, identical twins and consecrated virgins who celebrate their 60th birthday today. Both women have been pioneers all their lives and so have never drunk alcohol. It amuses them both greatly that they are known to some as “G&T”.

There are some who consider consecrated virgins to be lay nuns. But it’s not quite the case. Women such as the Kings were consecrated by the Catholic Church to a life of perpetual virginity in the service of God. But they do not take a vow of obedience or of poverty, just one of chastity. Consecrated virgins are responsible for their own upkeep, and their primary obligation is to prayer: they attend Mass and daily readings of the Divine Office (breviary).

Gemma and Triona King were consecrated on August 15th, 2003, by Cardinal Desmond Connell. They have been praying for this (occasionally) humble correspondent for many years. It began when they first noticed me at the back of the Pro Cathedral in Dublin, where they assist regularly. I have a habit, when reporting on events there, of standing at the very back of the Pro Cathedral, against a radiator, in the shadow of a statue of St Jude (the patron of hopeless cases). It was while observing my positioning, and finding it hilarious, that the King sisters embarked on a probably futile programme of prayer for my benefit. It is ongoing.

The irony of their nickname tickles the twins, but it is also appropriate in that telling one from the other is about as easy as telling gin from tonic when they’re mixed.

Consecrated virginity is believed to be the oldest recognised form of consecrated life in the Catholic Church, predating convent life by centuries. One of the earliest references to it was in AD 110, in letters from St Ignatius of Antioch. However, with the rise of religious life from the sixth century on, consecrating women “in the world” fell away and was abolished altogether in the Middle Ages.

It was with Vatican II in the 1960s that consecrated virginity was restored in the Catholic Church, with an emphasis on a deep spiritual bond with the local church. It was approved by Pope Paul VI in 1970.

So what do they do? Pray all day? Not at all. The King sisters are both civil servants in Dublin. They work full time. But they begin each day with about 20 minutes of prayer and attend Mass every day. They also help out with various ministries at the Pro Cathedral.

They’ve done so under eight administrators (in a cathedral context, where the bishop is parish priest, the priest is known as the administrator) over a 30-year period. With extraordinary generosity, they remember all those eight administrators as “very nice”.

A nook of Kells

The Kings are from Co Meath, near Kells. They went to the Eureka convent secondary school in Kells and “enjoyed every minute of it”. Theirs was a farming background. They have one brother, Gerard, who continues to work the land there. Both their parents, who were also very devout, are dead. “That was where our faith was nurtured, in the family home,” says Gemma (or maybe it is Triona?). “We never questioned anything. We went to Mass every day.”

During their school holidays, they “used to love going to Mass at 8.30am”, they say. They and school friends had a competition during Lent each year as to who would attend the most daily Masses, which they always won. “We actually felt that if we didn’t get daily Mass, we were nearly denied something.”

Their local church was Carnaross, where their mother, Mary, was sacristan. They did voluntary work there. On finishing school, they both applied for the civil service and were given jobs as clerical officers.

They moved to Dublin, where they lived in Phibsborough and adopted the Pro Cathedral as their church – “because it was near the bus stop” to and from work – while going home every weekend. Both were very keen on sport and are qualified basketball referees.

They had been very involved in sport at school also. “It was very confusing because we wore the same colours, and, when [the teams] changed sides . . . they had no idea at all [who it was],” says Gemma (it might have been Triona). “We let the team players sort that out for themselves.”

It was the same at secondary school: no one could tell them apart. “The nuns had no idea who was who, so they made Gemma prefect of the class, and half the time I stood at the top of the class being prefect. We used to confuse the teachers by standing up at the same time,” says Triona. Even their handwriting looked the same.

When one twin moved to the Department of Foreign Affairs as the other moved from there, some staff at Foreign Affairs didn’t notice the change.

Trying out for the nuns

They say they “never grow tired, never bored,” and believe this energy “comes from the Eucharist”. They did try out the nuns for a brief period during their Leaving Certificate year, “just to test it out”, but it wasn’t for them.

Socially these days they “have good fun with our friends. We don’t box ourselves in, as in ‘we can’t go there, we can’t go here’. We go on holidays. We have a multiplicity of fun and sport. We go to football matches. We enjoy meeting people in pubs or whatever. Our lifestyle doesn’t curtail us.”

They decided to become consecrated virgins when a priest pointed out to them that they already lived the life. So they made inquiries, and Cardinal Connell agreed to perform the consecration ceremony. They believe there are about 12 consecrated virgins in Ireland and about 3,000 in the world.

To qualify you must be single and a virgin. The investigation in advance took “roughly two years” under the direction of a spiritual director, who makes the assessment before final approval by the diocese. They recite the office each morning, which takes 20-25 minutes, just the same as a priest does.

“We have an utter respect for people in their own walk of life, and [we] never ever judge people. That’s what gives us the joy: that we don’t have to make judgment calls. Literally, we fell in love with Jesus, that’s what happened us,” they say.

The twins have lived deeply entwined lives. They were separated a few years ago for a week to take part in a TV programme called Life Without Me. The experience left Gemma (or perhaps Triona) "grief-stricken. It left me in tears."

Then there was the time Gemma got promotion and was in Donegal for three months. That was "very difficult as well".

They both had boyfriends back in those days in Co Meath. Their closeness “didn’t hinder us” in that regard. Neither, however, ever considered marriage and children were “never a desire. It never even crossed my mind,” says one. It wasn’t compatible with the life they felt they had been called to.

As well as Mass every day and reading the daily office together, most evenings they meet up in the Pro Cathedral, and there are night prayers, but they rarely get to bed before 1am because they are committed night owls. They don’t have a strict routine to their day.

“Basically we just love life and we’re both very lucky to have a twin of the same thinking,” says Triona (although it might have been Gemma).