Should Sisters Wear Red Pants?

In his Foreword to James Finley’s book Merton’s Palace of Nowhere, Henri Nouwen reminisced about his first and only meeting with Thomas Merton.  He experienced Merton as the most down to earth of men, someone who was content to sit by the lakeside in jeans and drink beer with the guys, engaging in very ordinary conversation.  And yet, we know from his biography and writings that, as a Trappist monk, Merton lived his Vows authentically and courageously, inspiring others to reflect on their relationship with God and speaking out prophetically for nuclear disarmament, a hot button issue of his day.  In my experience, people can have varied ideas of how Religious Sisters/Brothers are living their Vows, which, for me, raises an important point to reflect on:  As Christians, we are all called to place Christ in the centre of our lives, but what is different about how Religious are called to live this out?

People that I meet are often surprised to hear that I am a Religious Sister, which has led to wide-ranging discussions over the past few years.   While living in England and discussing my Novitiate experience with a British teacher, she looked at me with some curiousity and asked “What does your community eat?”  Slightly taken aback by the question, I explained to her that we purchased food from the grocery store and cooked meals just like many other British residents.  She appeared unconvinced by my answer; perhaps she’d imagined that we grew and harvested our own food, which certainly is done to some extent by a few Religious Orders.  My response was disappointing to her, no doubt.

How Sisters dress often comes up in conversation.   The ten year old daughter of a friend explained to me recently that when she’d heard that she would be coming to a convent, she had immediately decided that she would wear all black to our house.  I understood from our conversation that the intent was to show a kind of solidarity with the Sisters and since it was a sweet gesture, I didn’t point out that there wasn’t much black to be seen on any of the four women that had welcomed her.  In another instance, after confirming that I was a Sister, a woman commented to a friend of mine about my clothing choice for the day, saying:  “I never imagined that a nun could wear red pants!”

Over the past few years, I have been asked questions on a variety of topics related to the practical living of the Evangelical Counsels by Religious Sisters:  if it’s okay for us to drink wine, if the Community can own televisions or computers, and various queries about the kinds of things that may or may not be found in our convents.  My students have asked if I’m allowed to have a boyfriend or husband, often favouring me with looks of abject pity when they learn more about the Vow of Chastity.

People definitely have a sense that a Religious Vocation is different from the other Vocations within the Church, and in some ways, this is right and true.  We are different, just as married couples or single people are.  The challenge that I can sometimes have as a Religious Sister is to differentiate the ways we should actually be distinct in living our Vows authentically.  Should we be different in the ways we dress?  In the ways we eat or obtain groceries?  In the ways we use technology?  Practically speaking, how should we be living our Vocation as compared with other Vocations in the Church?

As Religious Sisters and Brothers continue to wrestle with these questions in an ever evolving world, I think that it is worthwhile for us to let ourselves be stirred by the example of people like Thomas Merton.  He lived his Vows in a way that allowed him to be prophetic and he led many to reflect on deepening their relationship with God.  And yet, he could sit in companionship with others in the ordinary existence of their lives, enjoying the simple pleasures of God’s creation, being fully alive and human.  Let us pray that we can learn to balance these tensions in our lives, no matter the Vocation that God has chosen for us for our life’s journey!

Michelle Langlois, fcJ