Alice Claire’s Question

Here is a question from fellow consecrated virgin Alice Claire, on my post Open Discussion on “Dedication to the Service of the Church”:

At this time I have no comments, only a question. I get the impression from your blog that you feel very strongly that the life of a consecrated virgin should be very much regimented. While such regimentation is appropriate for a religious order or society of some sort, it is not necessary, appropriate or desirable for a consecrated virgin, who is not a member of an order or a society. Our consecration as virgins presupposes that we have the maturity and integrity to live out our vocation in the world in a manner pleasing to the Lord and in keeping with the teachings of the Catholic Church. I respectfully ask why you feel so strongly about regimenting the life of a consecrated virgin.

Dear Alice Claire,

Thank you for taking the time to comment. Although I was mainly hoping to hear other consecrated virgins’ thoughts on the subject of service (since sometimes I feel as though, unfortunately, I’m the only one who has written in depth on this particular topic), this is still the kind of thoughtful discussion I had wanted to foster.

Before I write any further, I need to point out that this following post is not so much a matter of me trying to articulate an academic theological point, as much as it is a kind of cry of my heart. I don’t usually blog very much about my personal feelings, but that’s exactly what I’m doing now.

So consequently, nothing I write here should be taken as a criticism of any individual consecrated virgin. I’ve never doubted that my sisters in Christ have ever had anything but the sincerest intentions in their living out their vocations, even if I don’t always agree with certain practical interpretations of the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity. The aim of this post is simply to describe the thoughts that go through my own mind.

First of all, I guess I don’t think of my ideas on consecrated virginity as calling for a truly “regimented” lifestyle. To me, “regimented” seems like it would be best used to describe the lifestyle of cloistered nuns or other religious who follow a strict horarium, a detailed Rule of Life, or an extensive set of customs.

I do believe that consecrated virgins should live what I suppose you could call a more distinctive, demonstrably “consecrated” lifestyle. In other words, I do think that our life should be different from that of an average devout Catholic laywoman.

I do not feel that it’s enough for us merely to follow the basic teachings of the Church. Rather, it would seem that our virginal consecration calls us to be specially conformed to Christ in a way that goes above and beyond the call that all the faithful receive by virtue of their baptism.

It likewise seems to me that out identity as “sacred persons” would call us to be oriented towards God and the things of God to with a more intense focus and in a more exclusive way than would be proper or possible for the vast majority of the laity.*

In light of this, I personally believe that in order to live an appropriately “consecrated” lifestyle (and one which is also in accord with our own particular charism), we consecrated virgins should live out our vocation in the following concrete ways:

- By engaging in activities which directly and explicitly advance the Church’s mission on something akin to a full-time basis (which could—but does not always necessarily have to—be accomplished by working in a Church-sponsored institution);

- By praying the full Liturgy of the Hours, spending substantial time in private prayer, incorporating some kind of penance and mortification into one’s spiritual life, and attending daily Mass wherever this is possible;

- By having some kind of serious and meaningful bond with the diocese for which one was consecrated;

- By living in a spirit of evangelical poverty through an attitude of radical detachment from earthly pleasures and through consciously choosing to maintain a very simple standard of living;

- By living in a spirit of evangelical obedience via having at least some kind of accountability to one’s bishop, and through the manifestation of one’s willingness to place the needs of the Church above one’s own personal preferences; and

- By demonstrating an openness to being known as a consecrated virgin at all times and in all places.

This could perhaps be considered a rather demanding lifestyle, and it’s one which certainly would require a great deal of discipline and personal maturity. (I would even argue that it takes more maturity for a consecrated virgin to observe these practices faithfully than it would for a consecrated virgin to live a less-structured lifestyle.)

But, I don’t think you could consider the way of life which I propose here to be an especially regimented one. Even if consecrated virgins everywhere were to model their lives on the above-mentioned points, this would still allow for a great deal of freedom and legitimate diversity—much more freedom and diversity than would be possible within a single religious congregation.

For example, I am emphatically NOT saying things like: all consecrated virgins have to be Catholic school teachers, say Vespers at exactly 5:00 pm, or fast on bread and water every Friday. It has never been my intention to make up a universal set of very detailed instructions to cover a consecrated virgin’s every waking hour; to propose that consecrated virgins all take on one common apostolate; or to argue that this vocation should be lived in exactly the same way, right down to the last detail, around the world without taking into account the different local circumstances and the unique spiritual gifts of each individual consecrated virgin.

Nor am I saying that a consecrated virgin would need to ask her bishop’s permission for every minor choice she needs to make during the day, or that a consecrated virgin would need to be specifically “commissioned” every time she wants to do a good deed for someone or help out at her parish. I’m not even suggesting that consecrated virgins should write out their own personal “rules of life” to be submitted for their bishops’ approval.

What I am suggesting is that, since consecrated virginity is a public state of consecrated life, it should involve some level of real self-sacrifice and accountability. It should not in any sense be understood as a wholly private reality.

I’m also trying to say that consecrated virginity is a vocation which significant enough to determine absolutely every aspect of our lives, and that it should never be viewed as anything along the lines of a part-time commitment. Our call to consecrated virginity should be the center around which we order our entire existence; it should not be something we try to “fit into” an already-full life.**

Unlike membership in a parish organization or a Third Order, consecrated virginity (like marriage, religious life, or priesthood) is a “first” or primary vocation.

You would never say to an earthly bride-to-be, “It would be great if you could live with your husband, or use the title ‘Mrs.,’ or aspire to raise a family—but don’t worry about trying to do these things if they don’t fit with your present work or career situation, or if you don’t feel personally ‘called’ to do them.”

This kind of advice sounds ridiculous to us, because the Catholic view of matrimony recognizes that marriage as a vocation fundamentally entails a specific way of life.

We also acknowledge that marriage, by definition, involves a total self-gift to one’s spouse. And logically, it would seem to us that this self-gift is not occurring if the spouses aren’t willing to give each other the first priority in planning the concrete details of their respective daily lives. We would never say that it’s sufficient for a married couple simply to start adopting a “married spirituality” while living in exactly the same way they did when they were single.

You could draw similar parallels with vocations to the priesthood. Could anyone imagine a bishop ordaining a man who didn’t want to engage in any kind of pastoral ministry, didn’t want to make a commitment to a diocese, and didn’t want to obey anyone, but still sought Holy Orders just because he wanted the grace of the Sacrament to enrich his personal prayer life?

But, to be brutally honest (and, once again, I’d like to remind everyone that I’m speaking only for myself and of my own personal impressions), to me it seems that people often mistakenly see consecrated virginity as being a less serious commitment than marriage, religious life, or priesthood. Either that, or consecrated virginity is viewed as being a kind of vocation designed so that you can have your cake and eat it, too.

For example…

Consecrated virgins are described as women who marry Jesus—but who can still enjoy the freedoms and conveniences of a single lifestyle.

…They should enjoy their bishops’ special attention and concern—but they shouldn’t be obligated to render any practical service to the local Church or be expected to make any binding commitments to their diocese.

…They are publicly established as icons of the Church through a beautiful liturgical ceremony—but they can’t be asked to modify the concrete details of their daily life after the ritual’s conclusion.

…Consecrated virgins are given the privilege and duty of being prayerful intercessors for the needs of the Church—but prayer is to be relegated to their free time and shouldn’t take precedence over their family or professional obligations; and what, when, and how often they pray is to be determined totally by their own inclinations and preferences.

…They sacrifice marriage and family life—but just to be on the safe side, they are ordinarily encouraged to do this only after their child-bearing years have come to a close.

Obviously, this is a very unflattering portrait of consecrated virginity. And to be sure, in my own life I have never met a consecrated virgin who discerned her vocation with this object consciously in mind.

However, I think that as ugly (and let’s hope generally inaccurate) as this description is, I think it needed to be written because, in my own experience at least, this seems to be the popular conception of consecrated virginity as a vocation.

While we shouldn’t let misunderstandings or plain ignorance cause us to lose our interior peace, I still do think that the widespread nature of this misunderstanding should give us pause. Maybe it should even be the occasion of an individual and collective examination of conscience among consecrated virgins. We need to be brave enough to ask—and honest, prudent, and discerning enough to answer—the question of whether or not this popular misconception might actually contain a grain of truth.

I remember one time a very holy priest (for whom I have enormous respect) once said to me, after I had the chance to share my vocation story with him: “But you can’t honestly compare yourself to a Missionary of Charity or a Carmelite. They sacrifice everything!…No one will ever think you’re as good as a nun.”

If you can imagine it, the priest didn’t say this in a way that was at all unkind (the conversation basically concluded with a effort to provide some pastoral encouragement by suggesting that God could still call me one day to be a Carthusian or a Poor Clare...). And for the most part I was able to brush off the unintended offensiveness of this comment by considering the context, and by remembering that one priest’s perceptions don’t dictate the objective reality of a situation.

However, the comment was still a bit disturbing to me, because it posed that same unspoken but haunting question: Could it be that serious Catholics would see me as someone who gave her life to God in half-measures…because I did in fact only give my life to God in a partial and incomplete way? Even if, by the grace of God, I was able to give myself wholly over to God in the quiet recesses of my soul, could it be that consecrated virginity, on an objective level, was not even intended as a vocation that allows a woman to make a complete gift of herself to Christ?

I am writing this as a sinner who consistently fails to meet even her own minimal expectations. I know I am not a saint. Despite the effort I put into discerning and outlining what I think a consecrated virgin’s life should look like, I would be the first to admit that my efforts to reach the perfection of charity within this way of life are always flawed at best, and that my sinfulness keeps me miles away from reaching my goal.

However, this doesn’t change the fact that complete, radical, sacrificial self-giving is still the goal to which I long to be called!

Even if I can’t ever fulfill it perfectly, I still want my vocation to be that of a total, spousal, giving of myself to Christ in every single area of my life. I desire with every fiber of my being to be called to be concretely, literally, visibly—and entirely, without reserve or exception—given over to God and the Church.

But, I have never wanted to strive for this end simply because it happens to be what I feel like doing at the moment; I want to strive for it because I have been explicitly called to do so by God, speaking through His Church.

And I wanted the chance to say “yes” to this call in a public, binding, permanent, and “official” way. Yet my thought is that if the Church were in fact to see consecrated virginity as being a “less total” vocation than marriage, priesthood, or religious life, then it wouldn’t actually be my vocation to give everything to Christ in a radical way.

I could still try to do this on my own, of course—but in that case it would just be an aspect of my own private spirituality. My formal place in the Church wouldn’t be that of one who gives her life wholly over to God, and in that specific sense I truly wouldn’t be “as good as a nun.”

I know this is a very subtle distinction (and one which probably isn’t always the most pastorally prudent thing to discuss openly). But as a young woman who’s signed up for consecrated virginity for the rest of her life, it’s one which nevertheless seems terribly important to me.

So in a nutshell:

I believe what I do about the most appropriate way of life for consecrated virgins because, first and foremost, on an objective theological level this seems to be most consistent with the Church’s teachings on the nature of the liturgy and of consecrated life in general.

The reason I feel so strongly about what I believe is because I want to give everything to Christ in an absolute and radical way; and I think that, in most cases, one of the surest signs that you are truly given over to Christ is that your commitment concretely affects the ways in which you order your exterior life.

And, I want to be wholly given over to Jesus in a way that transcends the limits of my own personal spirituality—I want it to be in response to an unambiguous call from Christ, mediated through His body, the Church.

notes:

* This is not to undermine the Church’s teaching on the universal call to holiness or to obscure the many contributions that laypeople make to the life of the Church; it’s only an acknowledgement that consecrated life is a distinct vocation with its own particular nature and purpose.

** I do understand that many consecrated virgins today were consecrated when they were middle-aged or elderly, and I’m sympathetic to the fact that many older consecrated virgins are truly unable to make major changes in their lifestyle. However, I think we should consider these situations to be the exception, and not the rule. (I also think that this is one of the strongest arguments for encouraging—or at the very least, to cease actively discouraging—vocations to consecrated virginity among younger women.)

What If Serving the Church Is Seriously Inconvenient?

As regular readers of this blog well know, one facet of consecrated virginity which I find particularly meaningful is a consecrated virgin’s call to be “dedicated to the service of the Church” (a phrase taken verbatim from the Catechism of the Catholic Church from Canon Law).*

The topic of my Master’s thesis, as well the topic of many previous blog posts, was why I feel that it is most appropriate to interpret this call to service literally—i.e., that “dedication to the service of the Church” should be taken to mean that, barring extraordinary or extenuating circumstances, consecrated virgins should be committed to service which is visibly and directly Church-related on something like a full-time basis.

In a nutshell, my reason for arriving at this conclusion is that, if you interpret consecrated virgins’ call to service in a non-literal way, you’re left with two very imperfect options for understanding this aspect of the vocation: either being “dedicated to the service of the Church” means that consecrated virgins are to strive to imbue the secular “marketplace” with Christian values, making the vocation of consecrated virginity most similar in nature to membership in a secular institute; OR “dedication to the service of the Church” means that consecrated virgins are supposed to do whatever volunteer Church-related service they can fit into their schedules during their free time, making this vocation most similar in nature to membership in a secular Third Order or a in lay parish group like the Altar Rosary Society.

Understanding consecrated virginity as being most similar to secular institute membership is theologically problematic because this is an unwarranted and unjustified** superimposition of secular institutes’ specific and very modern charism (i.e., that of being a “hidden leaven” in the world) onto what is an ancient and entirely different form of consecrated life.

Seeing consecrated virginity as being most similar to membership in a secular Third Order or to a lay association is theologically problematic because it suggests that consecrated virginity is not a commitment which is significant enough or in such a way as to warrant any major changes in one’s exterior life. This is at odds with the Church’s understanding of consecrated life in general as involving a complete and total gift of self and a more radical observance of the evangelical councils than would be possible or advisable for most lay people.

But even after establishing some solid theological and canonical grounds for a literal interpretation of what it means for consecrated virgins to be “dedicated to the service of the Church,” often questions arise which relate to the purely practical aspects of this assertion. Here is one such question from a regular reader:

I have a question about working for the Church to directly advance her mission. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but not all of us live in the Archdiocese of New York, where there are numerous Catholic institutions. What about women who live in small, or even large, rural dioceses? These dioceses tend to be poorer, without a lot of resources and with few Catholic institutions. In my diocese, for instance, there is not a single Catholic health care facility. Would a consecrated virgin who was a nurse have to go to another diocese to work in a Catholic sponsored hospital? Or should she quit nursing to become a teacher in one of the few Catholic schools in the diocese, even though she has neither the interest or ability to be a good teacher? —Curious

This question is somewhat complex, in that it touches on several related but distinct issues at one time. But in my reading of this comment, is seems to me that the central question being asked here is whether or not a consecrated virgin would be obligated to serve the Church in a full-time and direct way even in situations where this would be seriously inconvenient.*** (With apologies to “Curious” if it turns out that I’m misunderstanding.)

Given my reading of the question, and assuming that it references a hypothetical situation, my own thought is that the short answer would have to be a qualified “yes.”

That is, in my own OPINION, a true “dedication to the service of the Church” in one’s home diocese is so intrinsic to the vocation of consecrated virginity “lived in the world,” that an aspiring consecrated virgin should be willing to undertake even substantial inconveniences in order to live out this aspect of her calling, or else reconsider her vocation entirely.

Further, as I see it, in order to serve one’s local Church effectively—as well as to emulate the sacrificial love and self-emptying which the Church holds as the ideal for all forms of consecrated life—it’s necessary to take into account the actual needs of one’s diocese, even if these needs do not dovetail perfectly with the kind of work which one would find the most personally fulfilling.

So, speaking purely in principle, if there was an aspiring consecrated virgin who was trained as a nurse, but who lived in a diocese where a nursing apostolate was truly and absolutely impossible, my thought would be that she should either:

- consider some other type of apostolate;
- consider moving to a diocese that did need nurses;
- consider whether or not she might actually be called to some sort of dedicated lay life (e.g., private vows); OR
- consider whether or not she might be called to some other form of consecrated life besides consecrated virginity (such as an active religious community traditionally dedicated to nursing).

But with all that being said, I have to point out that these kinds of abstract considerations are just that—considerations in the abstract. Real-life cases often have nuances which can’t be adequately taken into account within the context of a hypothetical situation.

If a potential consecrated virgin who was in the situation which “Curious” describes came to me asking for advice, I would ask her the following questions or make the following points:

1. Are you absolutely sure that there is no possibility whatsoever of you using your gifts as a nurse within some sort of Catholic institution in your diocese?

With all due respect, to be honest, I guess I have a hard time imagining that in a rural, economically poorer diocese there would be zero need for nurses—if anything, as an outside observer, it seems like such a diocese would needs nurses even more urgently than a place like New York!

Even if there aren’t any Catholic hospitals in your area, is there any other Church-related organization that could use a nurse? Maybe a crisis pregnancy center, or a nursing home, or in one of the many kinds of programs run by Catholic Charities? Is there a Catholic school that needs a school nurse? Or would you be qualified to teach nursing at a local Catholic college? Does your nursing background make it possible to become an NFP instructor? Or could you see yourself transitioning into an apostolate the focused on educating the faithful on Catholic medical ethics? (These are just a few ideas I’m coming up with off the top of my head—I’m sure there are even more possibilities.)

And, in the event that none of these “creative options” involved a paid position, would it be possible for you to work just enough hours in a secular (but Catholic-friendly!) institution to support yourself in a very simply lifestyle, while you devoted a truly substantial amount—perhaps the majority—of your time to pro bono nursing work?

2. Keep in mind that it is theoretically possible to work for the direct advancement of the Church’s mission without necessarily coming under the formal auspices of a Catholic institution. My thought is that a consecrated virgin who, with the approval of her bishop, gave herself over entirely or near-entirely to prayer or charitable works would be indisputably “dedicated to the service of the Church,” even if she wasn’t considered an official diocesan employee.

For one thing, sometimes institutions are not considered “Catholic” or “diocesan” simply because of an administrative technicality. As one example, the Georgetown Visitation Preparatory School is a girls’ high school in Washington, DC, which is run by the Visitation nuns of Georgetown. Even though the students there take theology classes, learn about Catholic values, have the opportunity to attend daily Mass, and see plenty of fully-habited nuns on campus, the school is not considered a “Catholic school,” but a “private school in the Catholic tradition.” However, this distinction is due only to comparatively minor administrative details, such as not being bound by the local diocesan-wide academic calendar.

In other words, you could hardly argue that the Visitation nuns were not serving the Church simply because their educational apostolate doesn’t include a “Catholic school.”

Likewise, the apostolates of many active religious congregations wasn’t considered an “official” work of the Church at the time of their foundation, since as emerging communities they were not recognized as being formal representatives of the Church.

E.g., when Bl. Theresa of Calcutta first went out to serve the poorest of the poor, initially she was simply performing acts of mercy on what was essentially, from a canonical point of view, her own initiate. The corporate apostolate of the Missionaries of Charity wouldn’t be recognized and formally endorsed by the Church until many years later. Yet, since Mother Theresa’s intention in working among the poor was to manifest the love of Christ, and since this can rightly be considered an extension of the Church’s charitable mission, it would be wrong to say that Mother Theresa was doing anything other than serving the Church in a direct and literal way.

Also, some forms of service don’t really lend themselves to “institutionalization.” For instance, I think it would be perfectly legitimate (albeit not very practical in a lot of cases) for a consecrated virgin to be “dedicated to the service of the Church” through an apostolate of full-time prayer in the context of a contemplative, semi-eremitic lifestyle. Yet, embarking on this particular way of life is a far cry from being hired by an institution.

Similarly, I think there are many conceivable situations where a consecrated virgin could—with the approval of her bishop—take the initiative in developing her own apostolate. I could easily imagine a consecrated virgin serving the Church through something like making vestments, tutoring disadvantaged children, writing books and free lance articles on Catholic spirituality, creating Catholic art, using her professional legal training to do advocacy work for the poor, studying psychology to become a Catholic counselor with her own private practice, and so on.

3. In some ways, to me it seems like it might actually be easier for a consecrated virgin from a small rural diocese to find a way to be directly and explicitly “dedicated to the service of the Church,” than it would be for a consecrated virgin from a large metropolitan See.

As much as I absolutely love being a part of the Archdiocese of New York, to be honest I have to admit that there are drawbacks as well as benefits to being a consecrated virgin in such a huge urban-centered archdiocese. While I appreciate, among other things, the vibrant and diverse Catholic culture here, our rich historical background, the great number of solid local religious communities, and the many nearby cultural and educational resources, at the same time the sheer size of the Archdiocese could tend to make it easier for a consecrated virgin to get “lost in the woodwork.”

On the other hand, it seems to me that an aspiring consecrated virgin from a small rural diocese would be more likely to have a vibrant, personal relationship with her bishop. This in turn could foster a more in-depth, carefully considered and truly mutual discernment of the aspiring consecrated virgin’s gifts and skills vis-à-vis the needs of the diocese.

4. Speaking as respectfully as possible, is there some aspect of your discernment you might need to reconsider?

Are you really sure that you couldn’t fulfill God’s will for you in any apostolate besides full-time nursing? When you’re being as honest as possible with yourself and with the Lord in prayer, do you feel that nursing is truly your vocation, or does it just seem to be the most logical way to use what you perceive as your gifts? While it’s important for us to be good stewards and to employ our best human judgment in using the gifts we have been given wisely, sometimes there can be a bit of a gap between what God actually does want of us and what we think would make the most sense for God to want of us.

If nursing was utterly impossible in your diocese, would moving really be all that bad? Is their another diocese where you could imagine feeling just as “at home” as the place where you live now? Or do you think God could be calling you—almost like a missionary—to pack up and move in order to love and serve Him in a place where your gifts are most needed?

Or are you sure that you’re called to be a consecrated virgin in the first place? If being a nurse is such a central component to your experience of vocation, perhaps that’s a sign that God is actually calling you to be a Sister in a congregation with a nursing apostolate. (And there are some great ones out there, like the Hawthorn Dominicans and the Little Sisters of the Poor). Or, maybe you’re called to join a secular institute, or else to make a private vow on your own.

5. Even if your diocese’s greatest, most pressing need was for Catholic school teachers, you wouldn’t necessarily have to become a teacher if you were sincerely convinced that teaching would be a completely horrible “fit” for you. While I believe that consecrated virgin are, with very few exceptions, indisputably called to be literally dedicated to direct service of the Church, I think it would be wrong to assume that consecrated virgins are necessarily called to any one specific type of apostolate (even within a particular diocese).

And although I personally don’t think that I would, in my own life, have a problem if I were asked to serve the Church in the context of a religious life-type structure of formal obedience (i.e., where you go where you’re sent, regardless of how you happen to feel about your assignment), on a theological level I actually don’t think this is the most appropriate system of ecclesial service for consecrated virgins “in the world.”

The Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity itself seems to envision a sort of mutual discernment between the bishop and the consecrated virgin in determining the exact way in which the consecrated virgin is to serve the Church. In number 2 of the gereral introduction of the Rite, it states that consecrated virgins are to “spend their time in works of penance and of mercy, in apostolic activity, and in prayer, according to their state in life and spiritual gifts” (my emphasis).

The bottom line is that, while certainly consecrated virgins should always be willing and even eager to “empty themselves” by putting the needs of their diocese above their own personal preferences, I don’t think that consecrated virgins’ call to service should ever be misunderstood as an obligation to undertake a type of work for which one is totally unsuited, unqualified, or incompetent.

Above all, we would be wrong and terribly mistaken if we were to understand a call to a life of direct, Church-related service as being anything at all like (as has at times been suggested) a way for the hierarchy to obtain cheap labor from an unquestioning celibate workforce. The theology of consecrated life, especially as it pertains to service, is so much richer than that!

As I see it, a consecrated virgin’s vocation to service is first and foremost a vocation to manifest, in a concrete manner, her spousal love of Jesus and her maternal love of the souls in her diocese. (And could anyone really argue that it would be inappropriate for a consecrated virgin to make sacrifices and “spend herself” for the sake of souls, since everyday we see natural mothers “spending themselves” for the sake of their natural children?)

A call to be “dedicated to the service of Church” is undoubtedly a call to generosity and self-sacrifice; it is emphatically NOT a call to abandon human prudence and common sense.

notes:

* See CCC 923; canon 604.1.

** I know “unwarranted” and “unjustified” might sound like inflammatory words, but I truly don’t mean them to take on this sort of tone. All I’m trying to say is that there isn’t anything in the Church’s history, tradition, or current authoritative documents which actively suggests that consecrated virginity should have a spirituality or charism similar to that of secular institutes.

*** But in referring to “seriously inconvenient” circumstances, I’m not talking about matters of life or death! If a consecrated virgin really and truly were to have absolutely no other options besides working in a secular job in order to support herself in the basic necessities of life, then of course I would not fault her for this.

Likewise, with the popular understanding of consecrated virginity being what it is right now, I think that those virgins who were consecrated when they were in their fifties, sixties, and seventies are now called simply to do the best they can in striving to live a life of service. While I personally belive that it would be commendable for an older consecrated virgin to prayerfully discern changing careers in order to devote more time to direct service of the Church, I do appreciate the fact that in many cases it may be prohibitively difficult or else gravely imprudent for middle-aged or elderly woman to seek to make such a radical change.

How Do I Make a Private Vow?

Here is a question I received in the comment box of my recent post, “Consecrated Virginity versus Private Vows”:

I would like to make a private vow of virginity before making my Consecration [of] Virginity vows and was wondering if there are any private vow prayers that are already written out that I can pray. And what would you suggest of what one can do to live their private vows?

Thank You and God Bless You! —Karen

Dear Karen,

First of all, forgive me for correcting one small detail in your original question: I just have to point out that the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity doesn’t actually involve a vow per se.

Consecrated virgins do publically state their resolution to persevere in a life of perpetual virginity (this occurs twice in the Rite of Consecration: in the examination following the homily, and in the formula for the “renewal of intention” which is spoken by the candidate immediately before the central consecratory prayer). However, this commitment is not technically the same thing as a vow, although I think it would probably qualify as one of the “other sacred bonds” that Canon Law frequently mentions.

Still, the constitutive action in a solemn consecration to a life of virginity is the candidate’s RECEPTION of the prayer of consecration from a bishop. A consecrated virgin is consecrated passively by an action of the Church, much in the same way as a Church building is passively consecrated. This is in contrast to (for example) professing religious vows, as the making of a vow is an action which the candidate actively does.

Of course, there is a “passive” element in the consecration which occurs through the profession of religious vows, in that the Church must formally receive them through the witness of a duly authorized representative (such as a religious superior) in order for such vows to be valid. But in one sense, through their active profession of vows religious could almost be thought of as “consecrating themselves.” Likewise, the profession of any type of vow or promise—including private vows—is a similarly “active” action.

Even though consecration to a life of virginity does not number among the seven Sacraments, because of its “passive” nature it could perhaps be thought of as “working” like one. This is why it is generally understood that there can be no true dispensations from consecration to a life of virginity—the Church can’t “un-consecrate” a virgin anymore than she could “un-bless” a sacred object or “un-do” a Sacrament. However, a religious can in some circumstances be dispensed from his or her vows, because the Church is able to release individuals from the promises they have made and can relieve them from the obligations which these promises have subsequently imposed.*

Because the passive dynamic of consecrated virginity is so different from the active dynamic of professing vows, I would be concerned if the making of a vow per se (i.e., in the more limited technical definition of the term “vow”) was assumed to be an intrinsic part of the charism of consecrated virginity “lived in the world.” To me this would seem to run the risk of tying to fit consecrated virgins inappropriately into a paradigm proper to religious life, which could tend to undermine the uniqueness of consecrated virginity as a distinct vocation within the Church. Because of this (among other reasons), I don’t think that the profession of a private vow should ever be regarded as a mandatory step in the process of becoming a consecrated virgin.

But with all that being said, I do think that many aspiring consecrated virgins could find it spiritually and humanly helpful to make a private vow at some point in their discernment.

On a very personal note, when I was still in college I made a private, temporary vow of virginity under the guidance and with the support of a spiritual director. My motivation for doing this was mostly that, since I was absolutely head-over-heals in love with Jesus and (having been endowed with all the patience of a young twenty-something! ;-) ), I just couldn’t stand the thought of waiting any longer to make at least some sort of commitment to Him. But for other women, I can imagine how a period of living a privately-vowed commitment to dedicated virginity could be helpful as a means of testing or strengthen their resolve, or of discerning in a more concrete, practical way whether or not they truly feel called to a spousal relationship with Christ. (And my thought is that the best way for an aspiring consecrated virgin to “live out” a private vow is simply to live, as fully as possible, the lifestyle she intends to have after receiving the Rite of Consecration.)

However, I think that the decision to make a private vow as a preparation, whether remote or proximate, for receiving the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity should be between the aspiring consecrated virgin and her spiritual director. While it most cases it might also be appropriate for the aspirant to discuss this step with whoever is officially responsible for the formation of consecrated virgins in her diocese, because a private vow is essentially a matter of conscience, I don’t think there should ever be pressure to make a private vow from the “outside” (that is, in what we would call the “external forum”).**

For a woman making a private vow specifically as a preparatory step for receiving the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity, my own opinion is that they should profess this vow in a very low-key kind of way. I.e., I think it would be best for her to have only a handful of witness (if that many), and to be somewhat selective with whom she shares her decision to make a private vow. My thought is that a large, festive celebration connected with a private vow might tend to undermine the actual Rite of Consecration as the principal vocational commitment in a woman’s life. Also, I would be concerned that, if aspiring consecrated virgins were very open about living under private vows, this could cause confusion among the faithful or blur the distinction between private devotional commitments and the public liturgy of the Church.

For women who do not intend to become consecrated virgins, but who choose to make a private vow of chastity or virginity because they feel called to live as privately-vowed laywomen, I think the situation is somewhat different. If your main vocation in life is to make a private vow, then by all means you should celebrate it! I think it would be very appropriate for a woman in this situation to invite her family and friends to witness her private vow, to have a party immediately afterward, or perhaps even to wear a wedding dress if she felt drawn to this. (As one example, the author of the blog “Mulier Fortis” describes her profession of private vows here.)***

For both cases—that is, aspiring consecrated virgins who make private vows during their formation or discernment, as well as women who feel called to private vows as their main vocation—here are a few points to keep in mind:

1. Private vows are private and thus non-liturgical, so the Church does not provide any pre-written formula for private vows. If you feel called to make a private vow, I strongly recommended that you write your own formula. I think this would be the most fitting course of action, anyway—since private vows are a form of personal devotion, I feel that it’s best for the words used in a private vow to come straight from the heart of the individual who will be making the vow.

2. If you need inspiration for what to write in your own private vow formula, one starting point might be to look at the various formulae used for religious vows in different communities. However, in composing a private vow formula, you should NOT include anything that suggests that your private vow is being officially accepted by an authorized authority, or in the name of the Church. It should be clear from the wording of your vow that you are engaging in what is simply a private act of personal devotion.

3. Another place to find inspiration might be in some of the writings of the saints who made private vows. But, when you write a private vow, be very honest with yourself and make sure that you’re not promising anything that’s beyond your capacity. (For example, do not read Come, Be My Light and decide to imitate Bl. Theresa of Calcutta by vowing “never to refuse God anything” under pain of mortal sin. Mother Theresa was capable of keeping this vow. Most Catholics—myself included—are not.) It’s best to show your proposed private vow formula to your spiritual director before you actually make your vow.

4. In some instances, in might be possible and desirable to make a private vow right before or right after a Mass. Especially in the case of a woman who is making a private vow as her main vocational commitment, it might even work out that she could profess her vow immediate following a small, “invitation only” Mass offered for specially her and her intentions as she comes to such a definitive point in her spiritual life. But, a private vow should NEVER be made during Mass, or in the course of any of the Church’s liturgies. This is because the Church is, as a rule, opposed to the combining of liturgical prayer and private devotions.

5. If you make a private vow, remember that while you are not canonically bound to observe it, you are still morally bound. In other words, while the laws of the Church do not specify any consequences for failing to keep a private vow, a private vow is still a serious promise made to God. Therefore, a private vow is a step which should be discerned carefully. In particular, one element which needs to be discerned is whether you should make a life-long vow, a temporary vow, or a temporary vow which will be renewed periodically, or a temporary vow which will eventually lead into a life-long vow. If something unforeseen happens in your life where you find yourself unable to honor a private vow, should you take the step of having the vow properly dispensed—which is fairly simple, since many clerics (such as the pastor of whatever parish is geographically closest to you) have the authority to dispense a member of the faithful from a private vow.

notes:

* But with all this being said, I don’t want to undermine the fact that professed religious are indeed truly and fully consecrated by their vows! If any religious would like to elaborate on the consecratory nature of the vows in the combox for this post, their input would be very welcome here.

** For those unfamiliar with this terminology, in questions and practices relating to formation, there is a distinction which always needs to be made between the “internal forum” and the “external forum.” The internal forum is basically an individual soul’s personal, interior relationship with God—i.e., the internal forum involves the kinds of things that would be discussed in spiritual direction or in the Sacrament of Penance. The internal forum is always supposed to be treated with strict—and in some cases, absolute—confidentiality. On the other hand, the external forum has to do with a person’s manifest attitudes and observable behavior. E.g., the question of whether or not someone shows up at Mass everyday is something which can be asked in the external forum; the kinds of spiritual consolations that person experiences while at Mass is something which should be discussed only in the context of the internal forum.

Because the internal forum represents the area where we are all at our most vulnerable, those in authority who would make the decision as to whether or not a candidate is to be ordained, consecrated, or professed are typically forbidden from having access to information proper to the internal forum. For example, in seminaries, the priest-professors who vote on whether or not a seminarian should go on to priesthood are not allowed to hear seminarians’ confessions under any circumstances other than danger of death.

*** I think “Mulier Fortis” is a good blog for those who are discerning life-long private vows as a vocation. But one of the only things I have a reservation about is the way that the author describes having a somewhat elaborate ceremony to renew her private vows every year. Naturally I don’t want to criticize this if it works for her and her parish, but my recommendation for someone with a vocation to life-long private vows would be to have only one vow ceremony (with possibly some commemoration of the anniversary.)

A Dress Code for Consecrated Virgins?

Here’s a comment from reader on this post, which I received back in July:

“If consecrated virgins are to live a life that is readily identifiable as consecrated, what about their appearance? Should they wear some kind of habit, or at least have a dress code? While some consecrated virgins I know dress very simply and appropriately, others follow the fashions including make-up, jewelry, even immodest styles, or sloppy jeans and T-shirts.” —Curious

While questions of what to wear certainly aren’t the most profound or significant issues with which I have to contend in my life as a consecrated virgin, figuring out how to dress in a way appropriate with respect to my vocation isn’t totally unimportant, either.

For one thing, since I do have to get dressed every day, the question of what to wear is a necessary one, as it’s impossible to avoid. Also, what we wear does say something to the world about who we are and how we see ourselves. Hopefully it goes without saying here that clothes don’t make the man (or the woman). But because it is a kind of self-expression, our choice of clothing does merit at least some consideration.

First, a few words about the “elephant in the room” in any discussion on consecrated virgins’ clothing—consecrated virgins “living in the world” and religious habits:

I actually don’t think that non-monastic consecrated virgins should aspire to wear “habits” per se, because a habit is a mark of membership in the spiritual family of a religious Order or congregation. That is, I don’t think that consecrated virgins should attach a lot of importance to specific articles of clothing in the way that, for example: Dominicans and Carmelites treasure their respective scapulars; Franciscans wear a knotted cord cincture, or the way that some congregations (e.g., the Redeptoristine nuns or the Holy Spirit Adoration Sisters) have a tradition of wearing a specific color in honor of the particular Christian mystery around which their charism is centered.

Unlike members of religious communities, the spirituality of consecrated virgins isn’t rooted in any one particular set of historical circumstances (other than the foundation of the Church, that is!) or in the unique spirituality of a particular founder or foundress. So I don’t think it would be correct for consecrated virgins to have a practice of dressing in a way which was reminiscent of a particular time in history in such a way that specially highlights any one specific spiritual devotion or mystery of the faith.

Additionally, while of course consecrated virgins should strive to foster amongst themselves a sense of sisterhood in their common vocation, consecrated virgins aren’t bound to each other in the same strong sense as nuns and religious sisters are. Therefore, I think that the family-type relationship expressed by a common habit is something truly proper only to religious life, or perhaps also other communal forms of consecrated life.

However, all other things being equal and considering the question in the abstract, I would be in favor of consecrated virgins wearing some kind of distinctive clothing, or possibly even distinctive clothing which was uniform within a given diocese. (The difference between a proposed diocesan-wide distinctive “uniform” for consecrated virgins and a habit properly so-called would I think be very similar to the difference between a religious habit and the clerical garb worn by diocesan priests and religious priests who aren’t in habit. I.e., a clerical collar and a cassock or black suit marks the wearer as a priest, but not as Franciscan, Dominican, Carmelite, ect.)

Also, I personally think it would be wonderful if it became an established custom for consecrated virgins to wear some sort of veil as part of their every-day attire. On a theological level, I think it would be especially fitting for consecrated virgins to wear veils because of the rich symbolism behind such a practice; because the veil is an ancient and venerable insignia of the Order of Virgins,* and because the reception of the veil is a part of the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity.

Contrary to popular belief, and while obviously there are no authoritative documents which suggest that consecrated virgins should wear be required to wear “habits,” the Church has also never stated anywhere that consecrated virgins are forbidden from wearing distinctive clothing which identifies them as consecrated persons.

Right now, the question of identifying garb is left entirely to the discretion of the local Ordinary. In other words, it is completely up to individual bishops to decide if the consecrated virgins in their respective dioceses will wear special clothing, and I believe that the bishop would even have the right to require that the consecrated virgins under his care wear distinctive garb. (In fact, apparently few bishops in the United States, such as Bishop Jenky in the diocese of Peoria, Illinois, actually have asked that the virgins consecrated in his diocese wear veils full-time.)

I think that, in many cases, it would be most fitting for consecrated virgins—who have, after all, freely entered into a PUBLIC state of consecrated life—to wear distinctive, identifying garb, because of the value of such a visible consecrated Christian witness to the modern Church. As mentioned in countless articles and reflections such as this one and this one, people today are often hungry to see obvious reminders that the Holy Spirit still inspires men and women to offer their entire lives to Him.

Yet at the same time, regular readers of this blog have probably noticed that (aside from my ring the mantilla I started wearing to Mass after I was consecrated) I myself do not presently wear any distinctive clothing. My reasoning for this is that, since consecrated virginity is still in some sense a very “new” vocation, there are legitimate pastoral concerns to be taken into account—concerns which I feel outweigh my theoretical ideas on the preferable garb for consecrated virgins “living in the world.”

Namely, due to the widespread popular understanding of consecrated virginity—or more accurately, the lack thereof—right now I’m inclined to err on the side of discretion to avoid confusing the faithful in an unhelpful way.

However, I don’t think that it’s totally unrealistic to imagine that in several years time the pastoral situation might be different in such a way where consecrated virgins wearing distinctive garb would be generally considered a wholly helpful influence in the life of a diocese.

Given this, for me personally the bottom line is that: I’m very open to the idea of wearing a veil or some kind of “habit.” But, I don’t presently have any plans to do this in the foreseeable future. So for at least the time being, I do have to pick out my own clothes in the normal way.

Admittedly, I have found it a bit challenging at times to determine the best way to dress as a non-habited but publicly consecrated woman. The following portion of this post reflects my own ideas about this, and is the fruit of my individual discernment on the matter (which is open to on-going refinement, by the way). It represents my thoughts on the best practical approach to a totally practical question, and NOT anything like a restatement of an official Church doctrinal teaching.

Therefore, while I hope that some consecrated virgin- or aspiring consecrated virgin-readers find this helpful, please feel free to disagree with me in the comment box! I would be very interested to hear how other consecrated virgins (or candidates) have dealt with the issue of how to choose one’s day-to-day clothing.

In a nutshell, I feel that it is important for consecrated virgins to dress in such a way which could be described as modest, simple, tasteful, and practical:

Modest – Of course, all Catholic women are supposed to dress modestly, but I think that I would be justified in saying that consecrated virgins are ordinarily called to take modesty one step further than Catholic laywomen. Not only are consecrated virgins called to dress in such a way so as not to distract the men around us, but the clothing we wear should convey the clear message that we are not romantically available to any mortal man on this planet.

For me specifically as a consecrated virgin (and please note that I am not, not, NOT trying to define the appropriate standards of modesty for Catholic women in general—that’s one minefield I’ll best leave to other bloggers!), this means that I follow all the obvious guidelines: I would never wear anything skin-tight, see-through, midriff-bearing, blatantly provocative, or any permutation of “underwear as outerwear.”

Beyond this, all my skirts are knee-length or longer; and all my shirts, dresses, and tops cover my shoulders. I don’t wear any low- or lower-cut shirts, even those which wouldn’t seem immodest on my mother or sister. My clothes aren’t really baggy, but I don’t think I would ever wear anything truly form-fitting.

Simple – I also think that consecrated virgins should have simplicity as their “look.”
In addition to choosing clothes which celebrate the virtue of chastity, I think it’s just as important for consecrated virgins to dress in a way that reflects a spirit of evangelical poverty.

Speaking for myself, I never wear any jewelry besides my consecration ring and a small silver cross necklace. I don’t use cosmetics or wear any makeup at all, unless you count colorless moisturizer and lip balm in the winter. My hair is long, but besides keeping it clean and trimmed, I don’t do anything special to it and I try to arrange it as simply as possible. The things I use to put my hair up or tie it back are strictly utilitarian—I don’t use fancy barrettes or hair ornaments of any sort.

I also tend to favor clothing which is white, dark, or in muted colors, though I do have a few exceptions in my closet.

When I was younger, I used to love to wear skirts with bold floral prints. I still wear these once in a while (though I find myself feeling less and less comfortable in them), since I generally try to wear my clothes until they wear out. But now, whenever I have to buy new clothes, I stick to solid colors or occasionally some very simple prints such as small dots or pinstripes. In other words, I try to avoid giving the impression of having brilliant plumage!

I’m not against buying wardrobe staples (like shoes or a suit jacket) which are slightly more expensive if they’re well-made and will last for many years. However, as a rule, I don’t think that consecrated virgins should spend lot of money on clothes. For us, shopping should NOT be a recreational activity; and if we’re drawn towards flashy or designer clothes then something is wrong.

Also, we should be careful not to buy or accumulate more than we actually need. For example, women in general (at least in the United States) are notorious for collecting a lot of shoes and handbags. I think this is fairly harmless for most women, but it is hardly appropriate for a consecrated virgin. Speaking for myself, I try not to have more than one purse and one or two pairs of shoes at one time. My own personal rule of thumb for looking presentable while owning fewer clothes is to buy ONLY things that are easy to mix-and-match, and which will never go out of style (which usually means that they were never truly in style in the first place!)

Since modest and simple clothes are so hard to find these days, I wouldn’t have a problem “stocking up” if I came across something like a sale of really practical items. But, in my opinion consecrated virgins should not buy clothes just for fun. We need to be able to determine the difference between needs—even if these needs are just in the foreseeable future—and wants, and then buy our clothes accordingly.

Tasteful – Consecrated virgins are public representatives of the Church, and so beyond dressing modestly and simply, I think it’s also important that we dress in a way that would readily be regarded as presentable, appropriately feminine, and elegant (albeit elegant in a very plain way).

For me, “presentable” means that we as consecrated virgins should always try to look clean, neat, and “put together,” whenever we leave the house. This doesn’t mean that I don a business suit just to run out to the grocery store, but I think it does mean that whenever we go out in public we should always dress with the appropriate level of formality and “polish” (in accord with the particular occasion) which befits someone who lives her life as a “sign” or “icon” of the Church.

Also, since the vocation of consecrated virgins is a specifically feminine one (consecrated virginity is actually the only state in life within the Catholic Church which is categorically off-limits to men), and since we’re thus called to relate to Christ and His people in a specifically feminine way, in our choice of clothing we shouldn’t try to hide the fact that we are women! In my mind, dressing in a purely androgynous fashion is hardly helpful to our efforts to serve as a witness of Christ’s love for His Church. And I believe it is possible to look feminine without being immodest or extravagant in one’s dress.

For me in my own life, the desire to appear feminine influences my clothing choices in a number of ways too subtle to write about in great detail. But basically, I try to look for clothes that fit well while still being modest, and which, while being simple, are still aesthetically pleasing and reasonably attractive. There’s no sense in wearing un-flattering clothes just for the sake of wearing something un-flattering; even religious habits are envisioned as being something “at once poor and becoming.” (See Perfectae Caritatis, 17.)

Also, while I often wear blue jeans when I’m doing housework or when I’m relaxing at my parents’ house with just my immediate family present, I generally put on a dress or a skirt whenever I go out in public.**

Finally, although I certainly don’t believe that consecrated virgins should invest time or resources into keeping up with current trends in the secular fashion world, I still think that we should make a point to dress with class and relevancy. I.e., we shouldn’t come across as eccentric. While our modesty and simplicity should be notable, I also think that we should dress in such a way that even a well-meaning non-believer would feel comfortable approaching us.

Our clothing should convey maturity, intelligence, and competence or professionalism. It should also make it clear that we had enough sophistication to have renounced the glamour of the world by means of a free, deliberate choice—as opposed to, say, having adopted a modest and simple lifestyle out of fear or naïveté. On a concrete, practical level, I think this would mean that consecrated virgins should avoid things like: shapeless ankle-length denim or plaid jumpers, nineteenth century-style prairie dresses, long dresses homemade out of floral quilting fabric, muumuus or housedresses worn as street dresses, et cetera.

Practical – And in all of these considerations, common sense should reign supreme. If we as consecrated virgins are going to spend our days hard at work building up the local Church, we need clothing which will be comfortable and study enough to allow us to do our work well. I think it’s also important that most of our clothes be fairly simple to maintain, so that our wardrobe doesn’t demand too much of our attention.

Also, individual consecrated virgins need different clothes depending on their individual circumstances. E.g., a consecrated virgin who works in a diocesan office would probably need more formal business-type clothing than a consecrated virgin who worked in a soup kitchen or taught at an elementary school. If a consecrated virgin’s apostolic activity involved attending a lot of fundraisers or formal dinners, she might need to find something which, while being modest and simple, could pass as an evening dress. Yet for many other consecrated virgins, it would be terribly superfluous to own anything even resembling cocktail attire.

The climate and local cultural expectations in a consecrated virgin’s home diocese is another consideration, since it’s important to dress in way that is practical and appropriate for one’s surroundings. Even just within the United States, what works well in one region of the country might look out of place and be unduly uncomfortable in another.

For example, at home in New York, I love wearing black—it’s simple, dignified, and matches everything. But over the past few years I learned the hard way that black is NOT a friendly color in south Florida! It’s too hot to wear for most of the year; the harsh sun invariably fades it to some shade of brown, gray, or navy blue; and compared to all the loud, bright colors that people in the Miami area tend to wear, wearing black clothing makes it look like you’re in mourning for a close relative (really—I’ve encountered this particular misunderstanding personally before).

Anyway, that’s my two cents! Once again, comments on this post from other non-habited consecrated women are most welcome.

notes:

*In fact, I believe the reason that women religious typically have a veil as a part of their traditional habit is because of the historical overlap between the Order of Virgins and the earliest forms of monasticism. So you couldn’t say that I think modern consecrated virgins should wear veils to act more like religious Sisters—rather, it would be more accurate to say that nuns starting wearing veils in the first place because this was the custom of consecrated virgins!

** But this is emphatically NOT intended to echo the “Great Pants Debate of 2010.” I most certainly do not think that pants are intrinsically immodest; and to me it seems ridiculous to propose that it might somehow be inherently sinful for women to wear slacks. All I’m trying to say here is that in my own personal OPINION, skirts are a better “look” for consecrated virgins living in the world.

What Kind of Rings Do Consecrated Virgins Wear?

Here is an enjoyable question I received from a reader recently:

“I have a question about consecrated virgins, if you do not mind. I know that nuns have to wear a ‘wedding’ ring to signify their spiritual marriage, and normally it is a ring that signifies the Order they belong to. What about consecrated virgins? I know they wear rings but are they plain bands? What do you wear? I hope this is not a silly question, I’m just genuinely curious!” —Vesper

Thanks for your question, Vesper!

Actually, not all nuns (and I’m assuming that you mean women in all forms religious life, and not just those Sisters who are considered “nuns” in a strict technical sense—i.e., cloistered Sisters who make solemn vows.) are required to wear “wedding” rings. Like many of the more minor elements of religious life, there is a great deal of diversity among the various Orders and congregations in their traditions surrounding this. And sometimes even in different monasteries of the same Order, the nuns do not always have identical practices regarding rings.

And, the specific details about which communities do and don’t wear rings might surprise you. Some of the more “traditional” women’s communities do not wear wedding rings, even if they otherwise have a strong emphasis on “Bride of Christ” imagery. E.g., I don’t think that the Nashville or Ann Arbor Dominicans wear rings—readers who may know more than I do about these two communities are welcome to correct me on this if I’m wrong. But at the same time, many non-habited religious communities still attach a lot of significance to the rings they wear and to their customs in presenting or receiving rings. (There’s an interesting discussing about this here on the blog “A Nun’s Life.”)

I believe there are a few communities which used to wear rings but stopped after Vatican II, even while retaining a fairly conservative habit. On the other hand, I know of one congregation of Sisters (who are and have always been habited) who only just began to wear rings as a result of their community’s response to the second Vatican council.

However, all consecrated virgins wear rings as a sign of their spousal relationship with Christ. Just as in an earthly marriage, the ring is a sign that she has made a permanent commitment to another Person. In the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity, immediately following the consecratory prayer itself, the presiding bishop places a ring on the newly-consecrated virgin’s hand with the words:

Receive the ring that marks you as a bride of Christ.
Keep unstained your fidelity to your Bridegroom,
that you may one day be admitted to the wedding feast of everlasting joy.

The ceremony for the giving of the ring is a non-negotiable part of the Rite of Consecration. A similar ritual can be, but is not necessarily, included in the rite for religious profession, since the Church gives individual religious communities a great deal of freedom to follow their own customs and traditions regarding things like vow formulae, special blessings, and the presentation (or non-presentation) of insignia such as rings.

From a historical perspective, I believe the custom of women religious receiving a profession ring actually originated from the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity. Since the earliest nuns were also consecrated virgins, they probably would have received their rings at their consecration. And it seems that the custom of receiving a ring endured in many monasteries, even as the Rite of Consecration fell widely out of use. Religious Orders and congregations which developed in later periods—such as the mendicant Orders of nuns like the Poor Clares, Reformation-era Orders like the Discalced Carmelites, and the modern congregations of active Sisters like the Daughters of Charity—may have kept the custom of a profession ring as an imitation of the Rite of Consecration, or perhaps as a intuitive reflection of the rite. (I think the same process might have been at play regarding the tradition of consecrated women wearing veils, since consecrated virgins were invested with veils long before religious life existed. But that’s a topic for another post!)

If a nun or religious sister does wear a ring, she often receives it during her final or solemn profession, as this represents the point at which she has definitively chosen to follow our Lord in the consecrated life. I think that within most communities, all of the Sisters’ rings are probably of the same style and design. But I’m not sure that this is intended as a way to identify the community to which she belongs—although this sort of “easy identification” is part of the purpose of a religious habit. Instead, I think a shared ring design is probably meant to represent the Sisters’ unity in their common life and vocation, ect.

As far as consecrated virgins are concerned, for the most part we choose and obtain our own rings, which are later presented to us during the Rite of Consecration. (Although I personally think that it might be a nice gesture if, eventually, the diocese actually supplied consecrated virgins’ rings, or if they “recycled” the rings of consecrated virgins who had already entered into eternal life. But I haven’t heard of these things happening anywhere as of yet.)

So basically, each consecrated virgin can decide what kind of ring she will have. But although presently there aren’t any official guidelines about this, I do think that consecrated virgins’ rings should be kept simple, for a few reasons:

First, although consecrated virgins do not make an explicit vow of poverty, it seems to me that entering into any public state of consecrated life obliges one to live very simply. And this “spirit of evangelical poverty” should truly affect every aspect of your life—right down to what kind of ring you wear.

Likewise, we should keep in mind that consecrated virgins are marrying the same Jesus who “emptied Himself, taking the form of a slave” (Philippians 2:7); who was “a man of suffering, accustomed to infirmity” (Isaiah 53:3); and who had “nowhere to rest His head” (Luke 9:58) during his earthly ministry. And my thought is that something like a humongous diamond, rare gemstones, or anything similarly “over the top” would probably not be the best reflection or reminder of this!

Also, while naturally I believe it is totally and completely appropriate to refer to a consecrated virgin as a “Bride of Christ;” I think it’s also good to keep in mind that consecration to a life of virginity is ultimately more similar to a betrothal than it is to a honeymoon. In a very important sense, the REAL wedding feast is the moment when a consecrated virgin finally meets her Spouse face-to-face. So in order to resist confusing the “already” with the “not yet,” I feel that it’s best for consecrated virgins to avoid extravagance in all things pertaining to their consecration, including their rings.

As for me, my ring is a plain silver band. But around the outside, it has an inscription from the Song of Songs: “Ego dilecto meo et dilectus meus.” (Song of Song 2:16) Usually, this translated into English as: “I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine.”

One funny story about my ring: At the reception right after my consecration, everyone of course wanted to see my ring and to know what the inscription said. One priest—who can read in Latin probably as well as I can read in English—for some reason just couldn’t figure it out! He kept reading and re-reading the inscription and muttering things like, “Umm…is that in the ablative case?” But, it seemed like every single consecrated woman there, whether they were a consecrated virgin or a religious Sister, knew exactly what it meant as soon as they saw it!

This is a photo of me holding a (hatched!) lizard egg in the palm of my hand. But it’s also the best close-up picture I have of my consecration ring.

Some Questions from a Reader

Even if I can’t always answer and post them in as timely a fashion as I would like, I’m always happy to take questions from readers. Here’s one I received about a month ago:

“Thank you for your honest advice on the consecrated life. I am 23 years old and know that for health reasons marriage is—unfortunately—not a realistic aspiration. I am committed to living the spiritual life of a consecrated virgin even if I never receive the title. I am curious about the particulars of possessing the title. I am wondering what it means—practically speaking—when in the rite of consecration the young woman promises to ‘serve God and the Church.’ Does the bishop have certain expectations of her besides faithful and joyful service in whatever job she possesses? Does he check up on her regularly? Also, how was it possible for you to be consecrated at so young an age? I was under the impression that you had to be at least 25 for the bishop to consider your case. Thank you again!” —Niki

Dear Niki,

Thanks for your questions and I’m glad you like my blog! While I’ll do my best to be helpful here, it’s actually somewhat difficult to give simple and universally applicable answers to your practical questions, because as of right now the Church has issued very few official directives regarding the concrete details of the daily lives of consecrated virgins.

Our primary source of authoritative information about the vocation of consecrated virginity lived “in the world” is the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity itself, along with similar liturgical sources such as the Ceremonial of Bishops. In terms of non-liturgical magisterial writings, we have one canon (can. 604) in the most recent Code of Canon Law. There are also a few paragraphs in the Catechism of the Catholic Church, and some brief mentions in the documents Vita Consecrata and Apostolorum Successores.

But as you have probably noticed, these sources tend to deal with consecrated virginity in a more abstract way—i.e., they describe the theological foundations of this vocation, but they don’t always give us guidelines as to the ways in which these theological foundations are to be concretely expressed. Obviously, the theoretical theology behind consecrated virginity is crucial to understanding it as a state in life, and I would even venture to say that it’s sufficient for discerning a vocation. But by itself it might not be enough to answer all the practical questions that could be asked about the most appropriate way to live one’s vocation to consecrated virginity.

For example, from the Rite of Consecration and the other documents I mentioned, we know that consecrated virgins are properly called “Brides of Christ” and that they are called to pray the Liturgy of the Hours for the needs of the Church. These things are very clearly defined, and are therefore not up for dispute by anyone. Yet this alone doesn’t tell us what other (if any) ways a consecrated virgin should pray, or what else she could be doing in order to manifest her vocation most fully.

For instance, you could certainly present some extremely strong arguments that consecrated virgins should set aside time for private prayer, have some sort of theological formation, live in a spirit of evangelical poverty, et cetera; but strictly speaking, in an objective sense you could also legitimately disagree that consecrated virgins are required to do these things insofar as the universal Church has not explicitly defined them as obligations for consecrated virgins.

My thought that this lack of specific, concrete directives for consecrated virgins is due to the fact that this is still a relatively “new” vocation. Although the Order of Virgins flourished in the early Church, for about a thousand years the Rite of Consecration was only made available to woman living in cloistered monasteries. This didn’t change until the revised Rite was promulgated in 1970. And even today, consecrated virgins living in the world are still somewhat rare.

Therefore, in my opinion I don’t think that consecrated virginity as a vocation has been widespread enough for the Church’s legislators to have the practical knowledge necessary not only for answering certain specific questions, but even to understand fully what questions should be asked in the first place! Yet do keep in mind that this situation could be completely different in ten or twenty years, as consecrated virginity as a vocation becomes more widespread. (And to put things in perspective, consider the fact that although the priesthood was instituted while Christ still walked the earth, it took the Church over 1500 years to develop anything like our modern seminary system for priestly formation.)

However, even if the universal Church has not provided much specific direction regarding the day-to-day concerns of consecrated virgins, an individual diocesan bishop does have the power to determine authoritatively the concrete ways in which the consecrated virgins of his diocese will live their consecrated lives. This is indicated in the introduction to the Rite of Consecration itself,* and is strongly implied in the other above mentioned documents.

So even if the Church has not (or at least not yet) explicitly named particular set of practices or mode of living as a universal norm for all consecrated virgins everywhere, a consecrated virgin may still be bound to do or observe these things if her bishop specifically asks her to. E.g., the consecrated virgins of a particular diocese may be required to make a silent retreat every year—despite the fact that as of right now Canon Law says nothing one way or the other about annual retreats for consecrated virgins—because their bishop decided that this was an appropriate condition under which they should live consecrated lives.

Similarly, each bishop is free to adopt within his own diocese whatever policies seem most suitable to him regarding the formation of consecrated virgins, the standards for accepting candidates for consecration (this would include things like age limits), the frequency of their official contact with the diocese, the nature of their service to the local Church, and so forth. While knowledgeable individuals, or organizations such as the United States Association of Consecrated Virgins (USACV), are free to have opinions or to make recommendations about such things, ultimately these recommendations become mandatory or authoritative for a consecrated virgin if and only if her own bishop deliberately chooses to accept them as normative in his diocese. A bishop’s freedom to determine these issues within his diocese would only change if the Vatican decided introduce a new universal requirement or practice, or to present an official clarification of a vague or disputed point.

For example, in their literature on formation the USACV states several times that a candidate for consecrated virginity should have a spiritual director—an objectively good idea which seems like common sense to me, and hopefully to everyone who reads this blog. But since Canon Law is actually silent on this point, technically an aspiring consecrated virgin is not strictly required to have a spiritual director UNLESS: 1.) her bishop himself makes having a spiritual director a precondition to receiving the Rite of Consecration, or 2.) her bishop decides specifically to set the USACV formation literature as the standard for the candidates under his own jurisdiction.

So basically, Niki, the answer to all your questions is “it depends on the bishop!”

But since I know that’s not really a satisfying answer, I’ll try to address your points based on my own experiences:

“I am curious about the particulars of possessing the title...”

In a nutshell, the main difference (at least on an exterior level) between actually receiving the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity and simply living the lifestyle of a consecrated virgin is that the former involves a public commitment and a change of your canonical state in life.

It’s difficult to explain briefly all the implications of what this means, especially in trying to describe some of the spiritual aspects of such a distinction. But basically, in making a private vow of virginity, your vocation remains essentially between you and God. When you become a consecrated virgin through reception of a public rite, your vocation “belongs” in some sense to all of God’s faithful people who make up the Church.

While living in a public state of consecrated life presents one with a greater opportunity for serving the Church and witnessing to the Gospel, it also comes with more challenges, obligations, and responsibility.

“How was it possible for you to be consecrated at so young an age?”

I was permitted to receive consecration at age twenty-three because the people who were directly involved with my formation determined that I was mature enough to be capable of making a lifetime commitment and that I had a sufficient understanding of what a life of virginity entailed. And on my part, this was an age when I felt “ready.”

I think that right now in my archdiocese, the age for consecration is determined on a case-by-case basis. But when I first began discerning this vocation in 2004, there was a local policy that all candidates had to be at least thirty-five years old! Although now I would assume that the Archdiocese of New York is generally open to younger vocations for consecrated virginity.

In the early Church, the age for consecration varied from place to place and in different time periods. But since the promulgation of the revised Rite of Consecration in 1970, the universal Church has set neither an upper nor a lower canonical age limit.

“Does the bishop check up on a consecrated virgin regularly?”

When I’m away at school, I usually write to the Vicar for Religious (who acts as the bishop’s delegate in situations like mine) in my archdiocese once every month or two, or whenever I have a question or concern that I feel needs to be addressed. We also try to meet in person whenever I’m home on a break, and also right before I leave to start a new semester.

In terms of meeting with the Ordinary himself, in New York we really don’t have a “system” in place yet, since our new Archbishop was appointed fairly recently.

“Does the bishop have certain expectations of a consecrated virgin besides faithful and joyful service in whatever job she possesses?”

All consecrated virgins are ordinarily required to pray the Liturgy of the Hours. In New York, consecrated virgins are also asked to attend daily Mass. Consecrated virgins are generally expected to spend time in private prayer as well, but exactly how much or what kind is left to the discretion of the individual consecrated virgin, in conversation with her confessor or spiritual director. I always try to take a personal spiritual retreat every year (making my own individual arrangements and plans about where I’ll go), and as far as I know the other consecrated virgins in New York do this as well. But I’m actually not sure that this is strictly required of us, since it’s something I would have done anyway.

In the Archdiocese of New York, the Vocation Office also asks the local consecrated virgins to pray especially for our seminarians. But I don’t think that this will ever be made into a formally binding request, because the New York consecrated virgins are already more than happy to do this.

“What does it mean—practically speaking—when in the Rite of Consecration the young woman promises to ‘serve God and the Church?’”

Right now in New York, this is another thing that’s decided on a case-by-case basis, in the context of an on-going dialogue with the Vicar for Religious. Since there are presently only four consecrated virgins, including myself, who are actively associated with the Archdiocese of New York, this allows for a lot of one-on-one discernment as to how an individual consecrated virgin can best manifest her vocation to be “dedicated to the service of the Church.” (Sometimes I’m tempted to joke that consecrated virginity is the vocation you continue to discern after you discern!)

But speaking for myself and about my own consecrated life, I do hope to work for the Church in some direct and full-time capacity after I finish my theological studies. Although at this moment I don’t know exactly what form this will take—right now, my future is in the hands of Providence.

*The exact phrase I’m thinking of is: “It is for the bishop to decide on the conditions under which women living in the world are to undertake a life of perpetual virginity.” It can be found in the general introduction (i.e., the introduction before the two specific rites for nuns and for women living in the world) to the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity, on page 158 of my copy of vol. II of the “Rites” book. But it’s not in the link I provide to the Rite of Consecration, because this link only gives you the Rite of Consecration specific to women living in the world, which unfortunatly doesn’t include the “general” introduction. However, I do think that many phrases in the Rite of Consecration for Women Living in the World express the same idea, though perhaps not in quite as explicit and unambiguous a manner.