Four things I discovered about vocation and discernment

When I began interviewing sisters for my book, Feels Like Home: A Single Woman’s Guide to Catholic Religious Life in the U.S., I thought I knew what they would say. After all, I had served nearly two decades as communications director for Benedictine sisters, worked as a consultant and writer for religious institutes across the country, maintained memberships in Communicators for Women Religious and the Catholic Media Association, and written for publications like VISION Vocation Guide and Duke Divinity Faith & Leadership. My bona fides demonstrated my expertise in the area. I would just write what I knew.

What I found out, of course, was what I did not know. I’m sharing four such discoveries with you here. Taken together, they may help seed and continue conversations within your institute as you work to create a vocation program that serves the women—and there are many!—who are discerning religious life today.

1. Discerners’ biggest fear is they will make a mistake. In fact, many do.

Women often pursue the wrong institute, at least for a time. This is not just an early discernment issue, before inquirers have begun to identify their lifestyle needs. It occurs late in the discernment process for many. Sister Stefanie MacDonald, O.S.B., now happily with the Sisters of St. Benedict of Rock Island, Illinois, discovered her mistake—and inquirers do view it as a mistake—after having lived with the wrong institute for months.

MacDonald had begun active discernment with a group of religious who had lived across the street from her family, dined at the family table, and shared holiday traditions. When she felt God calling her to be a sister, MacDonald had turned to them, believing that life as one of them would bring her the community, peace, and purpose she craved.

Working with their vocation director, MacDonald had relocated to live with the sisters who would introduce her to the life. It would be the perfect discernment opportunity. “I was happy at first,” she said. “I thought, I’m finally where I belong.” Within a few months, however, MacDonald began to find the ministry-focused apostolic lifestyle was not a good fit for her. Anguished and dispirited, she left.

“It was like living with roommates. Their ministries kept them at work till late at night. Our paths didn’t cross a lot. We didn’t pray together or eat together. I thought, religious life must not be for me.”

After several years, MacDonald felt the call again. This time she ended up with a community of Benedictines, entered, and serves as their vocation director today.

Vocation directors say the fear of making such a mistake stops many women from progressing in their discernment. They can’t face the ignominy of what they see as a public failure. Sister Lisa Mauer, O.S.B. still can feel the pain of her own such experience. “Trying to stay [with my first community] was like forcing myself into a pair of shoes that I loved but that didn’t fit. It was painful and embarrassing to leave.”

At least a quarter of the sisters interviewed for Feels Like Home began serious discernment with an institute they joined but eventually left. Ji Kyung Choi, C.B.S. was among them, finally leaving her Korean-American community just before final vows. She had to struggle with cultural and spiritual repercussions as well as pain and embarrassment.

“I had told a priest at my parish that I might be called to religious life. He put me in touch with a Korean community. I’m Korean American so it seemed natural. They accepted me without any formal discernment. I entered after just two months. It was not a good fit. They followed a pre-Vatican II way of life, which ended up pushing me away from God. I felt my spirit and soul were getting destroyed. Today, I accept that time as part of my discernment. I learned so much about what I believe and need. I learned what I’m called to do.”

MacDonald, Mauer, Choi, and several others persevered, entering communities that have been the right fit for them, while two more women accepted their chosen communities’ request to take more independent discernment time prior to entering. How many women fail to persevere because of such obstacles is anyone’s guess. But the need to help them believe there’s no shame in changing their minds, as well as the need to set expectations about the reality of discernment, is clear.

How can you help women navigate this powerful obstacle? Sister Lynn Mousel, C.H.M. suggests engaging friends and family. “Learning how to talk to friends and family is critical. Getting feedback from loved ones will help women know what’s right and what’s not for them.” Offering printed talking points, a sort of “How to talk to your friends and family about your call,” could be valuable. It would help introduce the topic of religious life, establish reasonable expectations, answer some key questions and prepare everyone—even inquirers—for the possibility that the discernment might lead to a radically different outcome than initially anticipated. [See VISION’s “How to talk to your family about your vocation.”

As for when to bring it up? Definitely not in front of a movie, Mousel notes, or as participants parallel-scroll social media. “You have to take time for the conversation intentionally. No distractions.”

2. The habit is a big deal … sometimes

Every Catholic seems to have an opinion about how sisters should dress, but the sisters I interviewed were less dogmatic than many non-vowed churchgoers. Vocation directors from non-habited institutes were quick to point out the correlation between habits and medieval garb, while those from habited institutes spoke of the habit’s witness factor.

Having a resource available to aid such discussions might be valuable, as most inquirers will have little if any knowledge of how the habit first came to be, or how or why it has evolved over the millennia. Elizabeth Kuhns tackles those questions in her book, The Habit: A History of the Clothing of Catholic Nuns:

The story begins at the dawn of Christianity, where the first consecrated women and earliest Church authorities shaped the habit’s initial forms. Evolving from ascetic ideals, it traveled through medieval cloisters and knights’ hospitals to the rugged frontier schools of the American West, taking on many shapes. [Some] were designed as monastic uniforms, specifically intended to distinguish women who had consecrated their lives to God. Other orders’ habits, such as those that copied the “widow’s weeds” or the working costumes of their times, came about from a desire to blend into society and among those whom the sisters served.

The desire to “blend into society” referenced by Kuhns remains an urgent desire among many sisters. But there were other urgent reasons to adopt different garb. Health, hygiene, and even safety were chief among them. The full habit was often made of heavy wool, and worn in all seasons. Not only was it hot in summer, it could stay wet for days after a sudden rain. Even if covered by umbrella and raincoat, the long skirt would soak the moisture up into its folds. And the headpiece—coif, wimple, and veil—often obscured the sisters’ peripheral vision, making it a hazard to drive or even walk. When Pope Pius XII suggested in 1951 sisters choose garb to be “in keeping with the demands of hygiene … counseled by reason and well-ordered charity,” many began the process of modernizing their dress.

Happily, today’s habits are mostly fashioned of more breathable, comfortable fabric, while headpieces typically permit peripheral vision.

Many of the younger monastic Benedictine sisters interviewed said they would gladly wear a modified habit, if only the elders in their community would agree. The apostolic sisters, on the other hand, often made the question of habit part of their discernment, entering an institute on that basis. The cloistered/contemplative nuns I spoke with saw the habit as appropriate for most but not all activities (such as work).

Here’s a sampling of interviewee comments:

Sister Colleen Mattingly, A.S.C.J.: “The habit is important to me. In the very, very beginning, wearing it was hard. Used to be I didn’t leave home without mascara and lipgloss! But now I don’t even think about it. Now that I’m living for the Lord—and not trying to find a marriage partner—things like hair and clothes aren’t important anymore. I’m witnessing through it. It’s a sign of something greater. But, I agree with those who say if the habit is your prime reason for entering, it won’t sustain you.”

Sister Julie Sewell, O.S.B.: “If you want the habit to be a factor in your discernment, please know it will not be enough to sustain your vocation over a lifetime. You must take other factors into consideration.”

Sister Linda Soler, O.S.B.: “I wear black and white at school. I’m open to a unified look.”

Sister Stefanie MacDonald, O.S.B.: “If our community wore a habit, I’d be wearing one.”

Sister Amanda Carrier, R.S.M.: “Habits never gave me the right feeling. There is something special about them, a witness factor, but they’re just not that important to me.”

Sister Xiomara Méndez-Hernández, O.P.: “I was very observant, but thought I’d never become a sister because they wore a habit. The reason I didn’t want to go to Catholic school was the uniform! But then I met these two Adrian Dominicans who weren’t dressed in a habit. I entered in 2008.”

3. Community isn’t what many think it is

Everyone I interviewed spoke of the value and benefit of community: apostolic, cloistered/contemplative, monastic, and missionary. Whether they live with the entire institute under one roof, or alone in their own apartment, each sister placed community at or near the top of her list of desired religious-life values.
If community means something different to each woman—and it seems to—the first step in a discussion about it might be to clarify what each of you means and recognize that each definition has value.

For monastic women, community is often both the literal place, a monastery, and the metaphorical joining together to seek God. It’s a spirituality that involves sharing everything from prayer and meals to decision-making and resources. For cloistered/contemplative monastics, community takes on an even more radical expression, as they literally remain together within their enclosure for life.

For apostolic and missionary women, community can imply many different things. For some, living with another woman or two fits the bill. For others, a sense of belonging to something greater than themselves forms the heart of the concept, making community an important value even for those who prefer to live alone.

Sister Julie Sewell, O.S.B. suggests easing into discussion by first asking a couple of simple questions: “We live in a 43-woman monastery. Sound bad? Then it’s not for you. Don’t want to live in an apartment alone, or with a small group? That’s also a clue.”

The following is a sampling of comments from my interviews with both newly professed sisters and vocation directors that shows the breadth of thought around the value and definition of community:

Sister Lynn Mousel, C.H.M.: “The concept of religious life is broader than an isolated community. You are entering religious life. It’s more than an order or congregation.”

Sister Colleen Mattingly, A.C.S.J.: “Community is number one. We try to live in groups of at least three or more.”

Sister Fran Gorsuch, C.B.S.: “Searching for community? What’s that mean? Many of us live alone. What can you bring to the definition of community?”

Sister Mary Jo Curtsinger, C.S.J: “Community for many is about a shared sense of mission and belonging.”

Sister Ana Gonzales, O.P.: “I’ve been blessed to experience community since January 2014 when I became a candidate. I love living in community. There are five of us.”

Sister Nicole Trahan, F.M.I.: “Community is a very big part of our charism. At least three sisters should live together. We are builders of community in order to change the world.”

Sister Amanda Carrier, R.S.M.: “Ministry is primary but community is very important to me. The Mercy Sisters have a sense of family in community life, even among sisters who didn’t know each other. I love how they are together.”

Monastic sisters, whether in more contemplative or more active communities, often report they were drawn to the family-like environment of communal life. Their definition of community tends to be more literal, as Sister Carmella Luke, O.S.B. notes. “I was drawn to sharing of resources, working, and living together. We make decisions as a whole community. We share, discuss, decide together.”

4. The right community feels like home

The most commonly reported clue that an institute was the right one? It feels like home.

Nearly every woman I interviewed volunteered a piercing sense of belonging when she found the institute she would ultimately enter and remain in. It’s why I named my book Feels Like Home.

While the book is written for inquirers, many issues that may prove useful to vocation directors surfaced during my research, from cultural realities (age, institute location, ethnicity, language) to the importance of an institute’s charism. Clear communication around such issues will be key to helping inquirers navigate their call—to wherever home will eventually be for them.

Susan Flansburg writes for and about Catholic sisters, as well as a range of nonprofit organizations. Her book, Feels Like Home: A Single Woman’s Guide to Catholic Religious Life in the U.S., is a guide for women who are discerning a vocation to religious life. It is currently in the final phase of editing. Questions and comments are welcome at seflans1@gmail.com.