Photography © by Carmelite Sisters of the Most Sacred Heart of Los Angeles
Last week my entire immediate family—8 adults, 8 kids—spent the week together on vacation. My sister is a Dominican Sister of St. Cecilia, or as they’re more commonly known, a “Nashville Dominican.” The Nashville Dominicans are recognizable by their full white habits and long black veils.
When friends and family heard we were all going on vacation together—even Sister—we were often asked if Sister would be wearing her habit. She always wears her habit, so at first the prevalence of this question surprised me. But then I realized that perhaps because we were going to central Florida in July, there was some thought that a long white dress and a black veil would be rather hot!
While I’m sure Sister was rather warm on those 94 degree days, she wore her habit every day. As you can imagine, walking through the streets of a certain place founded by a mouse in a full Dominican habit does get some commentary from bystanders.
“I just saw a nun!”
“Look, mom! A nun!”
One of our favorite moments came, fittingly, at a ride which sings (again and again) about the closeness of humanity. Much to our surprise, who boards the boat and sits right next to (my) Sister? Another sister in full habit! It truly is… a small world.
People would stop Sister, ask her what order she was in, or even what religion she was! People would tell her that they were educated by sisters, or that their great aunt was a sister. It was incredible what simply seeing the habit does for people. We never had any ugly moments or rude comments—if they occurred, they were unnoticed. We only saw the powerful ripple effects of a simple testimony of her faith. One morning, Sister was in line at our resort to purchase her breakfast and coffee. Two employees approached her, both smiling widely. The first woman explained that she was the first sister her fellow employee had seen since she was a little girl in Puerto Rico. “I’ve never seen her so happy!” the woman explained to Sister. “This is a magical moment!” she declared, and Sister’s breakfast was comped.
Sister didn’t stand on a street corner and preach the Gospel. She simply walked through the park. She rode roller coasters, ate ice cream, and—most of all—laughed. People need to see that. A few days ago, someone posted a picture on Twitter of priests having fun at a youth conference. People on Twitter were irate and insisted that they shouldn’t behave that way in their roman collars. On the contrary. We need to see religious having fun. We need to see them living normal lives. We need to see an authentic witness of holiness—not just in the cloisters, but on the streets.
My sister is an ordinary person who has an extraordinary vocation. That is the testimony of the habit. She is still human, and I’m fairly certain she still sins and sweats (although I didn’t see evidence of either last week). But she is living a counter-cultural life. She is living a life completely dedicated to Christ. The habit is a reminder of that, and as we saw last week, it’s a strong and clear reminder. When do people open up to complete strangers? When those strangers are signs of Christ.
She is still my sister, despite the black veil on her head. I just happen to have to best brother-in-law in the world.
