"Not only was I riding with nuns, but most everyone studying Celtic spirituality with me at Boston College was a nun."

Larissa Kaye Batten (llbeara@aol.com) writes "Soul Food," a weekly column for SpiritSite.com.  

Larissa is a prolific writer whose work has been featured in several publications.  

You can visit Lara's web site at www.miracleanimalrescue.com (site will open in a new window).

"You’re not a nun," I told Andrea.

"Of course I’m a nun," Andrea said.

"No, you can’t be," I argued.

"We’re all nuns," Jane said.

"There is absolutely no way that you’re all nuns," I said. "There is no way that I’m riding home from class in a car full of nuns."

"What’s wrong with that?" Mary laughed.

"It’s just not possible. Look at you," I said.

"Yeah, we’re normal," Andrea said.

I still didn’t buy it.

"You’re not wearing habits," I said, as if that was news to them.

"We don’t have to," a nun said. "That’s a choice for many of us now."

"Andrea, you are definitely not a nun," I informed her.

"Yes, I am," she laughed. "We are normal people, you know," she said. "Why don’t you believe me?"

How could I believe her?

Not possible. Nuns wear habits, otherwise you can’t tell that they’re different than everybody else.

When I signed up for my two-week Celtic spirituality class at Boston College with John O’Donohue, no one told me I would be surrounded by sisters without habits.

"You’ll have to show me an ID," I said to Andrea.

The nuns laughed with me.

"You’ll have to prove to me you’re a nun."

Andrea was too cool, too funny, too down-to-earth, too spiritual even, to be a nun. Nuns are religious, not spiritual.

Andrea grew up in Scotland. Her ancestors lived on an island off of Scotland that still doesn’t have electricity. Her mother told her God was everywhere, even in the cows that roamed around their land. Andrea was no nun. Nuns are strict, and that’s that.

"I’m a nun," Andrea said.

"How did you become a nun?" I asked suspiciously.

"I went to a convent," she explained.

"Well, I guess I’ll have to believe you."

Nuns? Yeah, maybe Mary was a nun. She was older, peaceful, gentle.

Jane could possibly be a nun, though her habit was missing.

What was I doing riding in a car full of nuns?

Not only was I riding with nuns, but most everyone studying Celtic spirituality with me at Boston College was a nun. Not only that, but most everyone at the college for those two weeks was a nun, a priest, or an employee in a Catholic diocese.

"I’m tired of everyone assuming everyone here is Catholic," I said angrily to my professor and my classmates one night.  "The whole world isn’t Catholic. It seems to be assumed here that we all are."

I watched the professor for a reaction. I could tell that he heard me, but that was not enough. I wanted him to stop assuming we were all Catholic

Wake up, Lara.

Most everyone around me for those two weeks was Catholic.  Catholic nuns without habits.

Except one nun. She wore her habit, and I was intimidated by her.

"This class is incredible," she sighed one night when we ran into each other in the bathroom. "How do you like it?"

"I don’t, actually," I said. "I don’t think the professor is focusing enough on what I want to hear. About Celtic spirituality."

She didn’t agree with me, of course. She was wearing a habit. She was a Catholic sister, not my sister. I did not allow myself to see her without a habit. I would not let myself see her as a human. I believed she lived in a different world, a nun’s world, a world so far away from my own.

Andrea, however, she was different altogether. Andrea was spiritual like I was.

I remember her words so clearly, and must repeat them here.

"We’re human," she said of herself and her sisters.

I know now that these women were not her sisters. These women are our sisters. The women of the world, with or without habits. Women on a God path. Women on a human path. Women seeking knowledge, spiritual empowerment.

But how had I landed myself in a two-week world of Catholics?

Easily. And for good reason.

I had some serious learning to do.

"I can’t believe what I’ve learned about Catholicism," I told my Catholic roommates at the college.

"I had no idea Catholicism had changed so much. I had no idea it’s changing. I didn’t know Catholics are so open."

"It’s changed a lot," they told me. And they explained how.

One night, one of my roommates said she really hopes the pope changes the policy about not using birth control.

She wants the change to reduce the problems in our country involving high numbers of abortion, tremendous amounts of poverty, neglect, and abuse.

Was this a practicing Catholic saying this?

If I had known I would be surrounded by Catholics at Boston College, I would not have gone. Sure, I knew ahead of time that Boston College was a Catholic school. But I did not surmise that I would be surrounded by Catholics every which way I looked.

Let alone nuns! Nuns without habits. How was I to keep those nuns away from me if I couldn’t even tell them apart from anyone else?

And that’s exactly the point. Once again, God landed me in an environment in which I could do nothing other than to learn the lessons I needed to learn.

When I left Boston College after those two weeks, I had a very different feeling about nuns.

The nuns I met are part of the real world. The nuns I met are trying to affect change in the world just like I am. The nuns I met are doing missionary work all over the world. They are helping poor people, sick people, scared people, and people of all races and nations.

The nuns I met have the same goals I do. They want to carry God’s message of love and Truth, of service and possibility.

"You can’t be a nun," I told Andrea.

If I weren’t married, I could probably be a nun just as easily as she is.

My beliefs are so similar to those of the nuns I met.

This world needs to be restored to be peace.  This world needs its people to help God bring the world back to its natural state of peace.

I have learned not to care who is doing this restoration, as long as we all contribute.

Nuns with habits. Nuns without habits. Priests, missionary workers, volunteers, elderly people, children, moms, sons, anybody and everybody.

I have spent far too many years turning my back on the very people who have been making the changes.

I do not believe it was a coincidence that I accepted a ride that night with four nuns.

Not too long ago, I would have walked miles rather than ride with a few sisters without habits.

Today, I am happy and grateful to accept a ride on this spiritual road with any of my sisters.

We are sisters of peace, with or without habits.

I am sorry I ever cared what people wear on the outside of their compassionate hearts.

I am so blessed today that I can learn to know their hearts inside.

Amen.

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