Convent Stereotypes

This fictional letter and its response addresses the stereo-types that many people expect to find
in girls who have vocations to the religious life.

Dear Sister,

You must know by now that P. has applied to enter the convent next month. After all these years, she’s
really going to do it. It’s hard to believe!

Sister, I need you to settle something for me once and for all. Yesterday P. and I were laughing about
how different our lives would be a year from now. Then she stopped laughing and said, “You know
what? I think you have a vocation too.” I brushed it off, but she kept insisting, to the point that I got
irritated. Just because she’s always wanted to be a nun doesn’t mean that I have to be one too!

Sister, P. and I are exact opposites. She’ll be a perfect nun! She doesn’t like to be around people and she
spends a lot of time praying. And she doesn’t care much for boys. Sometimes I think she was born a nun.
But me? I love to be with people and I have a lot of friends! And I like boys! I look forward to getting
married and having children. Prayer doesn’t come easy for me like it does for her. Sometimes I even get
in trouble at school because I’m a little TOO fun-loving. Sister, you know I don’t do things that are really
bad and I’m careful about the friends I choose — I just love to talk and laugh, that’s all. Even though I
won’t get involved in things that would offend Our Lord, and I really love my Faith, I’m a pretty normal,
active teenager. I think Our Lady has protected me because I pray her Rosary every day.

Okay, it’s true that sometimes during Mass, and at other times when it’s quiet, I wonder what it would be
like to be a Sister. But it’s obvious I’m not cut out for it! For one thing, I could never keep the silence. The
only things I know how to do well are the things that nuns aren’t allowed to do. Besides, I just KNOW
that I would still be able to do a lot for God and for the Church if I get married. Who knows, maybe one of
my children will have a vocation?

Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say. I know I’ll feel a lot better once you tell me that I’m right — that I’m
just not cut out for life in the convent.

Sincerely, L.

Dear L.,

I couldn’t help smiling as I read your letter. But your consternation is perfectly understandable. You are
at a point in your life when you want to — and need to — take charge of your own future, and it’s only
natural and human that you resent someone’s trying to tell you what vocation to follow. But P. is human
too, and she did mean well after all. I’m sure you can give her room to be a bit over-enthused about her
chosen vocation.

It is a strange thing, but the idea of religious vocation conjures up certain stereotypes of the types of
girls who “should” enter the convent: girls who are ladylike and reserved, or who don’t quite fit with the
“in” crowd; girls who are shy and show no interest in boys; girls who are known for being deeply
spiritual and devout. Yet religious vocations come in many forms — just think about all the Sisters you
know. Some are quiet, others are outgoing; some are lively and energetic, others always seem perfectly
unruffled and serene; some are outstanding leaders and “go-getters,” others are good at listening and
supporting and showing compassion. Some have wanted to be nuns since they were very young; others
came to the decision more quickly when they were adults.

True, there are some basic signs of a vocation, but they can be found in almost every temperament. I
think the simplest way of putting it is the 4 H’s: Head, Heart,
Humor, and Health.

▪ Health: Good health, including mental health and emotional stability.

▪ Head: At least average intelligence along with a certain amount of docility as well as “teach-
ability.”
▪ Heart: A certain degree of love of God. In other words, the soul lives in the state of grace at
least most of the time and sincerely strives to avoid sin. It is not necessary for her to have
reached the higher stages of prayer or contemplation. It is not even necessary for her to take
a particular delight in prayer, although she should possess sufficient piety to be persevering
in her efforts at prayer and the spiritual life.Heart also refers to a normal attraction to the
opposite sex. A Sister must be capable of love. It would make no sense for God to call to a
higher state of perfection only those who are somehow stunted or incapable of feeling
human love. True, the joys of romance and marriage are given up in religious life, but
through her life of chastity she learns to love — and love genuinely and deeply — in a higher
way, sacrificing herself for the love of God and neighbor.
▪ Humor: The ability to not take the difficulties of life too seriously, to laugh at herself when
she makes mistakes rather than become alarmed or discouraged. She appreciates the joys of
life and tries to bring some of that joy into the lives of others. A sense of humor is also
indispensible in living community life, where one lives and works alongside others of many
different backgrounds and temperaments. One who takes life too seriously may form rigid
expectations of both herself and others, an outlook that is likely to lead to difficulties in the
religious life. Even the conventual silence that seems so impossible to you right now is not
meant to be morbid and constricted, but joyful and loving.

So, as you see, these 4 H’s can be applied to the whole gamut of temperaments and personalities. Of
course, a girl also must want to become a Sister — not necessarily in the same sense that P. does, but she
must truly be willing to embrace this life if that is what God is asking of her. It must be her free choice.
She should not enter the convent simply because she is expected to, or because she doesn’t know what
else to do, or because she thinks no one will ever want to marry her, or because everyone tells her that
she would make the perfect nun. Above all, she should not enter the convent to escape life’s hardships.

But as for you — well, what do you think, now that you’ve become acquainted with the 4 H’s? Is a
vocation, perhaps, not so unthinkable after all?

In Jesus and Mary,

Sister Mary N.