In the mid-1970s, asked about her move from an updated habit to ordinary clothing, the teaching sister who ran our parish CCD program declared that the shedding of religious habits was a good thing because it emphasized that sisters were “nothing special, that we are all special in God’s eyes.”
This sister gave an example: “When we were in our habits, a fellow with an Italian ice barrow would always insist on giving us free ices, but why should he? Why shouldn’t we pay like anyone else? Why should we deprive him of his living because we were in a costume?”
Putting aside how unlikely it would be for an Italian ice seller to go broke because he gave away a few free scoops of sugar-water, it is striking, thirty years on, to comprehend how fully horizontal and earthbound was her thinking; it had some breadth, but neither height nor depth. As with the “horizontally-focused” masses and hymns that over-emphasized the humanity of the church while diminishing the transcendence of its liturgy and purpose, Sister was embracing the beam of the cross—humanity and church reaching toward each other—without considering that the stationary vertical, heaven-focused post is vital, if anyone is to be raised up.
Sister was operating under a willful delusion; she justified forsaking the habit with appeals to solidarity, compassion, and humility, but her story illustrated egoism and presumption. She bemoaned a possibility of cheating a man out of his wages. In fact, she was cheating that man, but not in the way she imagined.
The ice-barrow man was not giving sister a free ice because she wore a habit, but because a man who revered (or at least respected) God saw an opportunity to demonstrate his regard in a little way that St. Therese might have applauded.
And she was cheating others, too. Her habit was a reminder to the community of faith, and to everyone else as well, that we are all called to simplicity and sacrifice—that for all of our Martha-instincts to work ourselves to death and carve our identities from what we “do,” we must cultivate our inner Marys as well, and embrace the challenge to simply be. Sister might correctly say that she was “nobody special,” but her habit was a witness to "being," and it confirmed Christ's covenanted life among us with a reassuring immediacy.
Perfectae Caritatis, the Second Vatican Council's Decree on the Adaptation and Renewal of Religious Life, wisely counseled in favor of adapting religious habits in practical ways, but never decreed that habits should be discarded.
The religious habit, an outward mark of consecration to God, should be simple and modest, poor and at the same becoming. In addition it must meet the requirements of health and be suited to the circumstances of time and place and to the needs of the ministry involved. The habits of both men and women religious which do not conform to these norms must be changed.
The “outward mark of consecration” was meant to be a sign, but the habits were also a means of self-effacement. They were paradoxically meant to obliterate a sister’s uniqueness and make her one of many, one part of a collective hive. In truth, religious life is socialism the only way it can truly work: on a small-and-voluntary scale.
Taking off the habit may have (in the parlance of the day) helped sisters “celebrate their individuality”—and that is not a terrible thing, in and of itself; we are each fearfully, wonderfully made—but the embrace of ordinary dress over the religious habit also made the ordinary world more ordinary. Suddenly, there were no daily outward indications that anyone was praying at all, no reminders that we could and should pray, too. Suddenly, there was nothing to make a workingman remember Christ, and share some frozen sugar-water in gratitude.
When she eschewed the habit, the ice-man lost a marker that brought his awareness to God at random moments of his workday. Sister thus helped the man to become substantially poorer.
Desiring fellow-kinship, humility and “unspecialness,” Sister Nobody Special ironically wound up thinking about herself quite a lot. The Italian Ice was for God, after all, not for her.
Sister didn't cheat the man of his living. But she cheated God of a small devotion. She cheated a man of his chance to demonstrate that devotion. It would have been much more humble simply to say “thank you” to a free cup of ice, given and accepted in the love of Christ.
Rather like Holy Communion.
Habits are not necessary to the life of a religious; that is absolutely true. But perhaps when sister referred to the garb as "a costume," it was a clue that she had lost touch with the deeper meaning of such a powerful social identifier. In doing so, she cheated herself of the privilege of reminding the world, by her mere presence, that all creation is extraordinary and beloved. She cheated the rest of us, too, because we loved being reminded of that; it meant we each really were special, after all.
Habits may be worth re-considering, now, even by the most "progressive" of communities. The scratchy and starched architectural gear of past eras is impractical to the twenty-first century, but at a time when Christian witness is often received cynically, as caricature or hysteria, the adopting of the simplest of habits would give silent testimony of lives unified in purpose, being lived in simplicity and dignity, for something greater than material or political concerns. Such witness may well be necessary for the life of the world.
Elizabeth Scalia is a contributing writer for First Things. She blogs at The Anchoress.
Comments:
Is it not possible to write about the various subtle and powerful values of nuns wearing the habit, without completely denying that there may have been some value in this sister not wearing hers, and without denying that she was perhaps actually purely motivated by those values? Is this issue – and life in general – really so clear-cut that this nun’s actions deserve such strong and absolute censure? Yes, perhaps good could have been accomplished in the lives of those around her, simply by her wearing her habit; but who knows what good was perhaps accomplished, in the lives of those around her, by her not wearing that habit, by her not being set apart in that way, by perhaps being perceived by others as more approachable – and in countless other ways which you may or not be able to think of? I feel that life just isn’t as simple as all that, I’m afraid - and given that this is so, perhaps we can refrain from being quite so sharply and absolutely critical.
Perhaps. As I said, some of the habits used by various religious orders border on the baroque and are utterly impractical not only for daily work "in the world" but also for liturgical prayer as well. So, if I am a nun who has some strenuous activities to perform, I might feel the need to go "in mufti".
However, that does not seem to be the case with most of nuns I have met who have forsaken the habit. That's not the answer I get from them. Instead, there is a lot of talk about "breaking down barriers" and "being one with the people", which to me always smacked of being a bit ashamed of the vocation, as well as utterly misunderstanding it. Because a monastic is precisely that--monos, one who is alone, separate, apart. They do so first because they have turned their backs on the world, second because they stand as a exemplar to all the people (at least, that's how we Eastern Christians view monasticism). Distinctive dress serves both to set the monastic apart and to make him stand out, which is necessary for both purposes.
Of course, progressive nuns DO have a uniform of sorts--brown or tan skirt reaching just below the knees, birkenstocks, other sandals, or penny loafers, beige turtleneck sweater, wire rim glasses, hair cut in a severe bob. I became extremely familiar with the type at Georgetown, and can usually pick them out in crowd (when I am wrong, it's usually because the woman in question is not a nun, but an ex-nun). But unless one has extensive exposure to the breed, they usually blend into the woodwork.
In nature, bees build their own secret 'enclosed garden' storehouse of their highly prized melifluous amber liquid, its we utilitarians who devised the artifice of "hive" to harvest their gift for our own selfish ends.
As to Stuart Koehl's point, I admire the rationale for the simple and uniform monastic garb of both men and women. However, the fact is that the western orders were formed for many particular purposes within the grand plan of divine salvation, and I see a great good in their adhering to the custom of their order. You cannot encounter a Franciscan without seeing the example of St. Francis before you, and likewise with the Ligourians, Dominicans, and Sisters of the Divine Mercy. With all due respect, both ways are good and serve the purposes of the Lord, in whose kingdom there are many mansions.
I know that this is a sensitive issue for many, but whenever I learn from someone that a man or woman in lay dress is a priest, brother, or nun, I am saddened, and left with these questions. Why did I have to be told, and how many thousands of people have walked by this person unable to know at a glance that they were not atheists, for example, but people confessing Christ and doing his work?
Best,
Richard
You should see what happens to Orthodox or Greek Catholic monastics. When not mistaken for Muslims, the men at least are often mistaken for rabbis.
He is shown wearing a costume that, for the next 150 years became the normal outdoor dress of Anglican bishops: a frock-coat and a knee-length cassock or apron, worn over breeches and gaiters.
It was, quite simply, a riding-habit; an adaptation of clerical dress for a bishop, who spent a good deal of his time on horseback, visiting the parishes in his cure.
I found it rather touching.
Perhaps, someone could devise a costume, equally practical and symbolic.
What is not talked about a lot, however, is fully returning to the garb of religious orders. This would include the wimple and the full veil, not just the postulant/novice veil that most "conservative" orders (like the Domnicans in Nashville, etc.) wear.
Think Mother Angelica.
Of course, a good many of those bishops adopted that costume because it comported with the social life of a bishop--Anglican and Catholic alike. See Russell Shaw's book, "To Hunt, To Shoot, To Entertain: Clericalism and the Catholic Laity". Hard for us to contemplate, but go back a century and a half, and the bishops were part of the landed aristocracy.
Often when I'm travelling, people will stop and shake my hand...or offer to buy me a drink, or some food. Also, they want to thank me for serving. Frankly, it makes me uncomfortable...I haven't been deployed since 2003...and I feel very unworthy of their praise. I used to politely refuse their offers, smile and say thank you back.
But now I try to find some way to accept their offers because for a civilian who loves their county, it's a way for them to "participate" in a way, to "spiritually" join us in our great struggle against Islamist extremism. It's still embarrassing, mind you, but I try to be gracious. Also, in my bearing, actions, and speech, I am careful to remember that I don't merely represent myself...I represent the thousands of fine young men and women serving their country under difficult circumstances. Often far from home.
So it is with religious...and why the habit, be it baroque or modern, is indespensible to the vocation. Religious aren't "just like every one else" because of their vocation. Their habit testifies to their love for Christ, and their fielty to Him in an unspoken way street clothes and a tiny metal lapel pin can never do.
IMO - there's another aspect to the wearing of a religious habit that bears mentioning:
The beginning of the movement into secular dress coincided (in America) with a nascent and rapidly-growing awareness of "prestige brands" and "logos" and the "societal status" to be achieved in acquiring them.
So it's also ironic -- painfully so -- that as Americans flocked to cars and handbags, shoes and kitchen appliances, athletic wear and coffee, stores and computers of certain brand names which signified superb quality & unique characteristics ---- that Catholics --- especially avowed religious --- just as steadfastly sought to become anonymous and bland and desired nothing so much as to "blend in".
But -- blend in with what, exactly?
In this age of the "power of the visual image" & instant messaging & 8-second sound bites -- The wearing of habits among avowed religious, the wearing of religious insignia or jewelry by the laity, & the display of faith symbols in our homes (& offices!) are more important than ever.
These signs & symbols are our logos. They represent our brand. They proclaim who we are to the world, and remind us of what we hold most dear to ourselves.
Yes, I know -- "They will know we are Christians by our love."
Still -- with so much ignorance afoot about faith in general and Catholicism (even among Catholics) -- we need to take our brand to the marketplace and sing a joyful song to the Lord using every modern "marketing tool" at our disposal.
To the world, we must gently say (in word and deed, in sign & symbol) -- Here's MY logo !
Where to begin? I wonder if you are actually a clever parodist who deserves our gratitude. “A little astute redaction could have added poesy (and curbed the polemic) if beauty truth and goodness were what was sought and not mere pontificating.” Perhaps you are a member of the bee branch of the Earth Liberation Front, and are naturally touchy concerning the word hive? Free the Bee! Alas, I think not, and your politically sensitive pontificating is quite serious. To wit: Scalia is impolite and politicizes everything; it is worse than impolite to compare the communal life of nuns to socialism; the ecclesiastical church only divides Christians - and is awful. Am I missing something? Did we read the same article? Might you have an ax that needs grinding? For what it is worth, I enjoyed your writing. Regards,
PeterG
I knew a priest who couldn't wait to get out of his priest costume, don his sporty look and hop into his red convertible sports car.
Aren't many of them ashamed of being Catholic, the same as they are ashamed of the magisterium?
Many years ago I read a news item about a genocide occurring in a Third world country. When Rome asked what was most needed, the local bishop said, "Send us collars. They people need to be able to recognize who the priests are."
LSS, I married a Protestant and we raised our kids in UCC and Evangelical churches. of the 3, one has become a Catholic, a highly knowledgable Catholic, the oldest is like most of us, he believes but will call when needed and my daughter is a wonderful believer, who knows what she believes but doesn't get hung up on denominations. Growing up, all 3 were fascinated by nuns. When they would see sisters in around town (southern Fairfield County, CT) they would perk up and point. look mom! Do they ever travel alone? How come they dress like that etc etc. Even as they grew older, they would comment when they saw a sister...Hey mom, I actually saw a nun driving by herself!
The point is, these women stood out of the crowd and they stood for something other than ordinary. As a Catholic child, with a great aunt who wore full habit, as a teen and as a Protestant adult, I took great comfort in seeing nuns and really never thought much about why. The Srs. of St. Joseph who taught me in Rel Ed, were mostly frustrated with me, I asked too many questions. I loved the faith and wanted to understand, they thought I was questioning. Of course, this was in the mid 50s to early 60s. Though I drifted away after a post confirmation rel ed class, I wasn't deterred from applying to Catholic colleges and was never put off by the habit.
The habit, regardless of the personality of a particular person, was a symbol of God to me, of faith. HOw did it become an encumbrance to the sisters themselves? It seems to me that the notion of solidarity with the people etc., came in with the egalitarianism of the 60s. Liberation theology, the co-mingling of politics (the women's movement) and religion etc. all seems to have gripped laity and religious alike. The very thing that a religious vocation whether priest or sister is meant to eschew (being 'of' the world) is what took hold of mind and soul. That is not to say that there are not wonderful religious who do not wear the habit, but the commenter above is correct. The orders that are growing are wearing habits of wone form or another while the "un" habited orders, those known to be of the world not simply in the world are dying. The numbers do not lie. To not ask 'Why' is to put your head in the sand.
I hope more orders will find a comfortable but noticible uniform, so that everyone's kids will point and ask 'Hey mom, why do they wear those close? Do they have to travel in a group?' Then we have an opportunity to educate and evangelize. Something else that was taken from us when the habits were abandoned.
"Thank you for your service, Sir." "Thank you for your service, Sister."
It was a brief but very graced encounter. We don't ALWAYS have to be in our "uniforms" to be recognized but we DO always have to be willing to be identified as who we are called to be before God and man.
That moment stuck in his memory. Two years later, he was baptized a Roman Catholic. I was there; I'm his godfather.
Good fathers, good sisters -- you may not know how important it is for us ordinary folk to see you in the clothing that marks you out as different. Think how dreadfully the modern world is already impoverished of signs of the holy! When I see you in your "uniforms," I do not say, "There goes a holy person," because I have no idea what your souls are like; but I do say, "There goes someone who testifies to the holy." That is one of your greatest gifts to us, especially these days.
In Renaissance iconography there's a splendid tradition of showing the three Graces dancing in a ring, with two facing the beholder and one facing away. The general idea is that there is a grace in receiving a gift as well as in giving one. The inability to receive the gratitude of another is a mark not of humility, but of pride.
I can't imagine trying to work out in a habit! Speaking for myself, I'm perfectly comfortable with a Catholic religious wearing civies when relaxing at home, or shopping, or going fishing, etc. Our parish priest does not wear clerics as he calls the garb when he shops, because he doesn't want to attract every wacko in the store when he is trying to attend to mundane duties. But whenever he is acting in the capacity of a priest, he wears his suit and collar. So I am completely in sympathy with the message and content of your post.
Best,'
Richard
Was there not a time when what we know today as religious garb was actually the ordinary clothing of the day?
But the real problem is lack of prayer life and lack of poverty. They left the schools and hospitals, but their volunteer type work can be (and has been) done easily by laypeople. I know, because my mom and son have volunteered to do a lot of these things (visit the sick, take them to hospitals, run food banks, repaired damaged houses of the poor).
When we see these women flitting all around the country to attend conferences to discuss the latest fad in the church, when we see them planning us bad liturgies, when we see them teaching our son's comfirmation classes liberation theology instead of the ten commandments, and when we see them living rent free in old convents and complaining of a salary that is higher than we get on social security (and have to pay our rent out of), then you can see the problem
It was never entirely "the ordinary clothing of the day". According to the Rule of St. Pachomios, Father of communal or "cenobitic" monasticism (as opposed to the eremitic or solitary monasticism of St. Antonios the Great), monks wore a linen tunic or robe and belt, a white goat skin or sheep skin coat and belt, a cone-shaped head-cover or hood (koukoulion) and a linen scarf (maforion or pallium)--all eminently suited for working out of doors in the Egyptian desert. By the time of St. John Chrysostom, monastics were wearing a simple black raisson or cassock, bound by a leather belt (symbolizing chastity), an outer raison, and a hood. This is still pretty much the uniform of the Orthodox monastic today, though in some Churches the hood my be replaced by a kamilavikon or klobuk, often with long, flowing black veils. Out of doors and in inclement weather, monks wear a mantle (mandyas) over the rest of their vestments.
The grade school I attended had a teaching order of nuns and a convent. It no longer has the teaching nuns. I hope and pray they get them back.
My grandfather in Bozeman, Montana, was an avid fisherman. He use to give the extra fish he caught from the Gallatin River to the sisters in the convent at Holy Rosary (Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual Adoration from Lacrosse, Wisconsin). The limit at one time, back then, was forty fish, so one could catch quite a few! That convent is now slated to be torn down. I hope and pray they build a new one.
Two, I was taught by and then taught with a community with a distinctive Dominican habit and veil. There was something said by some bishops group or something about 30 years ago. Those ladies were fighting mad. Who was this group of guys to tell them how to dress!
Their decision to wear the habit, or to not wear the habit, came from their own sense of vocation, community, mission. It was not to be imposed from above.
So wear it, or don't wear it. But let each decision speak for itself as an example of a way of discipleship.
When you were clothed with the habit, Sister, you were made very aware of all that it signified. And when you took it off, I have always felt that you meant to unsay what you said by donning the habit.
When, finally, you removed your veil, I pulled my children out of the school of which you were principal. I no longer knew who you were.
Discarding the Habit is a score for the Prince.
I see lots of comments here about our opinions on what religious people should wear, but none about what outward signs of our own faith. So what say you? What is your outward sign?
A final observation: Anecdotes and what we personally want are not the stuff of consecrated life, no matter how compelling those things may be to us.
Over the years I've worn both the modified habit and a variation allowed by my congregation of black slacks, white top, and jacket along with a pin or pendant of our order. The habit is a powerful symbol of consecration to God and service to others. I would never stop wearing it altogether. It is also hot (two layers of polyester). This summer I switched to the variation and an interesting thing happned at work. My colleagues in our health care institution began treating me as a colleague instead of as a fragile endangered specie. For now, the variation seems to better facilitate the paticular role I have in this ministry.
As "A Sister" wrote, "We don't ALWAYS have to be in our "uniforms" to be recognized but we DO always have to be willing to be identified as who we are called to be before God and man."
I take your point, but would like to add a codicil or two. If a man passes me on the street in a tshirt and jeans he hasn't witnessed anything to me. If he wears the garb of a priest or brother, that is ipso facto a religious proclamation.
I know that there are and have been from the beginning consecrated people who did not wear special clothing. Wonderful. But signs of consecration have also been part of God's ordinance from the beginning. Nazarites wore their hair long to signify that they were consecrated to God. God set a rainbow in the sky as a sign that he would no more destroy the world with water (allegory or not, the symbolism is real). Abraham was instructed to circumcise himself and his people as a mark of their covenant consecration to God ("I will be your God and you will be my people").
Personal whim is not the essence of this issue, and you might have thought a moment longer before reducing this point to subjective idiosyncrasy on the part of those who have a view that you do not share. We live in a time and place in which powerful forces are striving to efface God from our public language, our government, our schools, our media, and even from our everyday sight and discourse and above all from the souls of our children.
In such a world, the desire to see evidence of the divine in human life signaled by the clothing of servants of Christ is not an atavistic nostalgia transformed into stealth bullying, but a sign of the peaceful persistence of the love of God in the face of a hostile and Godless assault on the same. This is, in a word, war. Some of the folks on the other side don't simply wish to curb Christianity, but to exterminate it. If you don't believe me, read people like Daniel Dennett, Sam Harris, and Richard Dawkins.
One of the most inspired acts of the reign of Pope Paul VI was to compose and promote the prayer to St. Michael the Archangel. In my view, Christians should learn it, pray it, and live it.
Best,
Richard
Had I thought a moment longer, I would have added that there is a grave lack of education and knowledge about what consecrated life actually is among not only the general population but among Catholics as well. A good church history or theology course would well serve us so that we understand what this life really is, including the many ways to live it faithfully.
Had I thought a moment longer, I would have added that immediate, visible witness is a good thing. I love seeing a person in religious garb whether it's a Catholic sister or a Buddhist monk. But if my faith and recognition of God or goodness in the world is reduced to what someone else is doing, then I am in deed in a bit of a spot. In my admittedly humble understanding of the calling of sisters and priests and other consecrated sorts of folks, I do not recall immediate "at a glance" recognition of one's consecration being the main goal of consecrated life. For some orders it may be of great importance given their particular mission. That is a good thing. But let's not mistake that for a constitutive element of consecrated life nor a measuring rod for authenticity.
Religious proclamation, accessible signs of our baptismal call and of consecration -- all good stuff. We are all called to do this. Can it only be done in one way? If so, then our ability to follow Jesus will be severely lacking.
I read this post and thought of two articles I read in Review for Religious in January. If you want, I can scare them up. Send me an email.
Sister's attitude is so subversive that she might find better employment in a private security firm, undercover.
"Why is your outfit so cool?"
I was told by some reform minded Catholics, who came of age during Vatican II, and experienced the rigid church of the past... they insisted that the habit put people off, that it scared and intimidated young people, and that it put too much distance between us.
Nobody ever told any of the hundreds of kids who have approached me, in habit, with something nice to say or ask. Their reactions waver between enthralled and enchanted, mystified and excited. Perhaps there are shy kids who are intimidated, that I will never know about. But that doesn't stop a lot of these other kids approaching me wide eyed wanting a piece of the mystery that I live.
Thank you for your wise response. I agree with it wholeheartedly and feel no conflict between our positions.
Not so incidentally, I would like to thank you and every other religious poster for giving yourself to the Lord out of love for Him and the rest of us. In my admittedly old fashioned view, the world would be lost without you.
God bless,
Richard
"The religious habit, an outward mark of consecration to God, should be simple and modest, poor and at the same becoming. In addition it must meet the requirements of health and be suited to the circumstances of time and place and to the needs of the ministry involved. The habits of both men and women religious which do not conform to these norms must be changed."
If we set the words "simple, modest, poor, becoming, healthy, suitable" in our mind's eye, do we really "see" a religious habit?!? Would any reasonable person suggest that there is enough information to design a habit from that? How in the world would anyone know that a habit did not conform?
Vatican II's slant (it really cannot be called instructions) on the Mass is even worse. It is time to dispose of Vatican II into the dustbin of our mistakes.
I do, but then, I'm a Greek Catholic, and when I look at a 9th century icon of some saintly monk, and then look across the nave at my friend, the Monk Maximos, I'm looking two images cut, literally, from the same cloth.
The nuns who gave up the habit 40 plus years ago are NOT getting any vocations; many of them want women ordained, they think gay and lesbian lifestyles are just fine, thank you, and we must accept their choices. They are not known to be particularly pro-life either, a very sad state of affairs. Perhaps individually...they do a lot of social work now, and have mostly given up teaching because it does not pay enough to sustain the aging Sisters who most often need special medical care. Some of the older ones who had to give up the habit, wish they were back in them. One of them even said they are more like a sorority now than a religious order. On the other hand, years ago my husband happened to remark to some Carmelites that it was nice to see Sisters in their habits. Their response: "It is nice to be in them!"
The office of the lay person is different from that of priest, nun and religious. Priest, nun, and religious wear signs that signify particular commitments within the Church that establish their unique identities as Christ present to the world in the unity of the Holy Spirit. But the lay person's commitment is to be agape present to the world in practically all situations, and for love to be agape, it must be founded in unity, for unity is the fullness of love that we call the Body of Christ, and why others will only know us by our unity, a unity that presently does not exist in the world.
Priest, nun and religious are there primarily to build up the laity so that we can evangelize the world in an all-encompassing being all things to all people. So the attire of the laity is agape that moves freely into all ephemeral social/cultural identities, putting on whatever clothes that are required to more freely in the world to evangelize, a radical being there for all peoples as the Body of Christ, inviting others to become wholly who they are in the only identity with permanence, an identity created in the image and likeness of God.
Your point resonates with me. That is only right, since I have advocated clerical garb for clerics. In fact, reflecting lately that I work in a school in which signs of Christianity are conspicuous by their great rarity (absence is not quite a fair description), and in which those indifferent or publicly hostile to Christianity are legion, I have felt remiss in not wearing a sign of my faith.
I am particularly inspired by a young woman who teaches in a department that has one of the most vocal and celebrated secularists (read atheists) in the country. She unfailingly wears a small gem studded cross on her blouse. Many women in my community wear a cross or crucifix on a chain as a necklace. I am looking for a gold or silver cross to wear on my shirt or lapel.
I should practice what I preach. And I will (I do have a small statue of St. Francis on my desk in the office).
Best,
Richard
How can you possibly know of one's concern for the unborn by one's 'bob' or any other hairstyle. That is just obnoxious. (And insulting to pretty much every woman with that concern who does not wear a veil.)
Second, vowed non-ordained religious are lay people.
Third, deacons in our Archdiocese wear a small, distinctive lapel pin. It is enough to be recognized and one knows right away 'That man is a deacon.'
A full religious habit might suit some. A modified one might suit others. As I noted above, some communities never had a traditional habit. I mentioned the Daughters of the Heart of Mary for one. Growing up in LA, I knew Sisters from the Society of the Sacred Heart, who wore a white suit and no veil, even in the 'sixties and the Sisters of Social Service, who wore a grey suit and some sort of hat while out on the street.
In 1964, a sister from the later community came to speak to us (I have no idea about what) and she answered questions about her attire, since we had NEVER seen a sister in anything but a full habit, of course. She said that for the work they did, a 'regular suit' made a lot more sense, especially since they worked among a lot of non-Catholics who wouldn't understand the habit, but who would understand that they were there in the name of Christ.
Again, why not let communities and their members decide what works for their mission, and for our part, respectfully stay out of it?
All of us are lay people, including deacons, presbyters and bishops; all are members of the Lao tou Theos, the People of God. Good to remember that, from time to time. Monastics are monastics, and for the longest time, it was believed that one could not be a monastic and an ordained minister. Gradually, more and more monks did become ordained, mainly to serve at the Liturgy within their monasteries, but in the East, down to this day, the majority of monastics are not ordained ministers. On the other hand, in the West, there are entire religious orders in which everyone is either an ordained minister or on his way to ordination.
"Third, deacons in our Archdiocese wear a small, distinctive lapel pin."
Deacons are rather an exception to the rule, but a monastic deacon wears his monastic robes at all times, at least in my lung of the Church.
A full religious habit might suit some. A modified one might suit others.
The problem is the "traditional" Western "religious" habits have very little in common with the original conception of monastic garb. I would like to see us go back to that. I wouldn't mind if the mendicant orders morphed into something else, though, so that people would not confuse them with monastics. But, if one is truly monastic, then go all the way, please--the simple black robe, the belt and the hood. Nothing more is necessary.
"She said that for the work they did, a 'regular suit' made a lot more sense, especially since they worked among a lot of non-Catholics who wouldn't understand the habit, but who would understand that they were there in the name of Christ."
That's a pretty weak excuse, honestly.
You wrote "A full religious habit might suit some. A modified one might suit others. As I noted above, some communities never had a traditional habit. I mentioned the Daughters of the Heart of Mary for one. Growing up in LA, I knew Sisters from the Society of the Sacred Heart, who wore a white suit and no veil, even in the 'sixties and the Sisters of Social Service, who wore a grey suit and some sort of hat while out on the street."
I have spoken with the Sisters of the Sacred Heart. They were founded in Hungary during the Communist era. They escaped. A habit there would have been imprudent. When Mother Ida came to north America, she asked the bishop for permission to put on a habit and was told to keep the dress plain. To me, it's clear they are sisters when I have seen them.
The sisterhood of actual nuns, which is steeped in service and prayer and dedication, should also retain its ability to be recognized freely as they walk amongst us. I can't help but be drawn to the sisters who come to Mass or that I see in the ice cream parlor. They are a reminder to me (often when I need it most - see above in ice cream parlor) that God's Grace is all around us. I simply cannot be rude or unkind in their presence. I am reminded that I should always strive to avoid rudeness or unkindness. When they are in regular clothes, we lay people miss out on this reminder.
As I began to read this rallying cry for the habit, I found myself drawn by Scalia’s argument…but as I read on, I realized that her call to a return to the habit primarily targeted religious sisters; there was no concern with religious brothers and priests. I continually find myself confused by this focus on sisters. I have a priest friend who belongs to a religious community with a wonderful habit that is not unreasonable to wear. About a decade ago, I had a conversation with him where he continually complained about how hot the habit was to wear in the un-air-conditioned abbey in which he lived and how he would much rather wear something else and usually did. My only response to him was, “What if a religious sister was speaking as you are right now? What would you think?” Fortunately, my friend was honest. He essentially said that he would consider her a bad sister or liberal or something of that nature... for the rest of my response, see my post at http://belovedofthebrokenheart.wordpress.com/
People respond to seeing priests and religious in the streets- they might not say anything but they certainly look. I think it can be quite an important thing, to remind the world that Christians do actually exist.
And to be perfectly honest, I must confess that I read only about the first two sentences on this topic. The reason is simply that when a nun takes her vows she receives also the habit. Of course nowadays in these modernistic times you will find that it is not uncommon for the modern "sister" to want to "mix in" with the crowd, the laity, or even give you such an excuse that they never received the habit when becoming a nun. Well, what order could that be? Or you may hear, and this is always the BIGGIE for most of the abuses that go on in many churches, "Vatican II says we don't have to wear our veils/habits." I must say, unless one reads and understands that Vat II says No Such Thing, just like Communion in the Hand is Not in any of the sixteen documents of Vat II, but that's a whole other topic.
Bottom line, either you want to be a Bride of Christ in every way, shape or form or you don't. And that means wearing your habit and Looking like a nun.
It is very encouraging today to see all the young ladies and men that have such a strong desire for the sacred, the reverent,... bottom line - for our Catholic Tradition. And it will be them that will help in the restoration of what has been lost and even taken from us,...our tradition.



In the monastic garb of the Eastern Churches, both Orthodox and Catholic, it is still the same--a simple black robe with a hood, girded with a belt. Same for men and for women, just as there is no distinction between monks and nuns other than their sex (the word for nun in Greek is simply the feminine of monk).
I fear, however, that the traditional garb of many Western religious orders has become far too elaborate and impractical, a reflection of the elaboration and fragmentation of Western monastic life. Instead of presenting a single, simple and united face to the world, Western monasticism has a proliferation of different orders with different habits, different rules, different "apostolates". In the process, it may also have lost sight of the meaning of the monastic life, which is, quite simply, to pray constantly. Everything else--the teaching, the healing, the preaching--is secondary to that one vocation.
When an order begins to think its purpose is to teach, or to care for the sick and dying, or to help the poor, or whatever, then it is natural that it begin to push the true monastic vocation into the background. This might at least partially explain the collapse of Western monasticism--if you see your main job to be a school teacher, or a nurse, or a social worker, well, why not just BE a school teacher, a nurse or a social worker and have done? And many have.
A distinctive monastic costume (the word has a technical and not a pejorative meaning here) is, I think, an absolute necessity. The costume is a uniform, and uniforms server both as an external identifier and reinforce group solidarity and purpose. Soldiers wear a uniform so that others will know them as soldiers, but also so that they will constantly think of themselves as soldiers, internalizing the ethos of a soldier and promoting solidarity with other soldiers wearing the same uniform. When we dress the part, we tend to play the part, until, eventually, we become the part.
But perhaps it is time to reform Western monastic garb, not just for its own sake, but also as part of an overall reform of Western monasticism--a return to one, single order of monks (and nuns as female monks), wearing a single, simple garment that signifies their status as well as their poverty, chastity and obedience, cheap and practical, yet distinctive. This would replace both the overly-elaborate, late medieval and renaissance garb of the "traditionalist" orders, and the jeans, sandals and turtleneck sweaters preferred by the progressives. Renewal through return sounds like just the thing to reinvigorate a flagging monasticism.