I majored in English Lit & Religious Studies, so I was thrilled to learn about Christmas’ memoir, in which she explores the cloistered life before deciding whether to get married to her longterm partner or become a nun. At the beginning, she views nuns as having “an air of secret agent cool…their floor-length black habits swoosh[ing] & billow[ing] like approaching storm clouds, while the edges of their white veils fluttered like angel wings.” By the end, she sees the sisters as strong women with joys & sadnesses like anybody else. 

I’ll keep mum about whether she does it from the inside or outside — but I will say that she realizes she needs to be a warrior for the church, & fight for women’s rights — especially a woman’s right to lead. A huge part of her coming to this conclusion has to do with her feeling safe enough to confront her rape, which she’d been silent about for 30 years. This is a book with more dark nights of the soul than I anticipated…but it’s also full of the humor, hope, wonder, & faith that I knew to expect. 

What I do know now is this: irreverent as she is sometimes, Christmas is far more pious than I. Interesting as I find the religious life, and especially the promise of contemplation & silence, I could never be a nun. Unless…is there such thing as a pagan nun? Can I please just hang out & contemplate nature & the infinite — preferably someplace warm?