FIRST AMONG EQUALS: ON RELIGIOUS LIFE SUNDAY, A NEW PRIORESS ON THE MOUNTAIN
The view from St. Mary’s.
“It’s very busy and very full,” Sister Hannah says cheerfully, "but it's always a good kind of busy. And very fulfilling." We’re in the music room of the Community of St. Mary, Southern Province, a women’s Benedictine community within the Episcopal Church, and I’m examining the convent’s large dry erase calendar. It is, indeed, very full: A nursing home visit, a Zoom meeting with other monastics across the country, a sister providing an elderly associate with a ride to an important doctor's appointment, a meeting for the local Community Action Committee, the class schedule for a sister who is enrolled part-time in a Master of Theology program, a monthly silent retreat day. In the summer months, there would also be the weekly educational, spiritual, and service projects of the Organic Prayer Program, the convent’s full-time internship for undergraduate students. Not listed but implicitly understood is the sisters' daily chapel life which, at minimum, is comprised of four Daily Office services.
“It's not like work, work, work all the time," Sister Hannah explains, "’cause that wouldn't be Benedictine.” As such, the familial aspect of the community is evident on the calendar as well: a weekly movie night—they take turns picking the film. The anniversary of a sister’s life profession—a milestone the community celebrates yearly with a special meal, much like they do for a birthday. Weekly recreation as a group—often board games, although recently, a lot of Star Trek. Life in the convent, Sister Hannah assures me, “is never, ever boring.”
St. Mary’s is located in southeastern Tennessee on the edge of the Cumberland Plateau. Literally on the edge. I’ve been in the chapel during a dark, gusty thunderstorm, and when the foothills below disappeared into the fog, I felt like I was on some Britannic oceanside cliff facing down a hurricane with no reinforcements. (I loved it.) On a sunny day, the stunning view overlooks overlapping wooded foothills, and to the left, the continuation of the curving plateau. No houses, parking lots, or roads in sight.
St. Mary’s was founded in 1865 and was the first Episcopal monastic community for women in the United States. Currently living at St. Mary’s are four sisters (one in her 20s, one in her 30s, one in her 60s, and one in her 70s), plus their cat, Sophie and dog, Ellie. (For the record, Ellie comes to chapel every day. Sophie does not.) St. Mary’s is four miles away from the campus of Sewanee, the University of the South, also known as “The Mountain.” Near campus but not on campus, the convent is a sacred space of retreat and peace for seminarians and their families, as well as undergraduates, faculty, retired clergy, and other local residents.
Sister Hannah, age 36, has been an Episcopal nun and a sister at St. Mary’s for seven years. She is clever, playfully charming, and full of quips, the kind of person you'd hope to get for a lab partner if for some reason you ever had to endure high school biology again. “Okay AJ,” I imagine her deadpanning over a lab table, “on a scale of one to ten, exactly how excited are you to study the reproduction of fruit flies today? Like, were you able to sleep last night?”
On January 22 Sister Hannah was installed as the new prioress of St. Mary’s. Every five years, the sisters elect a prioress, a Benedictine term which means “first among equals.” As prioress, Sister Hannah is now responsible for the well-being of the other sisters, plus all the other things a CEO type figure would oversee: employees, building and grounds, financial decisions, and, of course, the convent’s varied ministries. These include, but are not limited to: organic gardens (they specialize in lavender), spiritual direction, retreat hospitality (guest rooms and the Hermitage cabin available for booking), preaching and leading formation at parishes across the country, plus production of their 100% repurposed beeswax scented candles (made from leftover altar candles and available in their online gift shop.)
Sister Hannah’s installation as prioress fell, fittingly, on “Religious Life Sunday.” If you’re not familiar with the term, that’s because it was just approved by the 2022 General Convention of the Episcopal Church. It’s an annual church-wide day of observance and an opportunity for Episcopalians “to honor the existence of vowed religious orders and communities, their residential and dispersed ways of life, and what resources and support they have to offer." If you ask me, installing a tireless, incredibly bright, life-professed, millennial nun with two masters degrees and the personality of a stand-up comedian seems like a damn good way to celebrate not only the existence, but the exciting potential of Episcopal monastic communities going forward.
Recognized locally, the sisters at St. Mary’s do not dress in the traditional black habit you’d know from Sister Act or The Sound of Music—instead their daily habits are blue, often denim, jumpers with white blouses (“90’s school teachers,” I’ve heard them quip.) In chapel, it’s blue and white monastic albs. And while they may not be in the garb of Mary Clarence or Maria, they do take the same life-changing vows as Roman Catholic nuns: poverty, chastity, and obedience. In talking to Sister Hannah, I learn that these vows, which are part of the Benedictine Rule of Life and date back to the sixth century, are richer and more nuanced than just a list of things to give up.
The vow of poverty, for example, is a lot more than just giving up your checking account and credit cards. “It’s giving up how things possess us,” Sister Hannah explains, “more than things that we possess.” Admittedly, most Americans have never-fully-fulfilled wish lists of things we think we need, and many of us pay for storage units to house the overflow of the things we do have. Benedict would see this gluttonous cycle as a trap of unhappiness and a hindrance to one’s spirituality. The vow of poverty limits you, but ultimately frees you “to live the full and abundant life that we are promised in Christ.”
“Obedience” is an uncomfortable word for many of us, as our minds quickly turn to abusive notions of submission, subordination, and oppression. The principle behind the vow of obedience, however, reframes our prejudiced notion of the word. “Obedience means listening. Listening to God, through the wisdom and authority of our community, listening to God in each other,” Sister Hannah explains. She tells me that practicing this open-hearted listening in community is a challenging task. Listening to God in each other doesn’t always produce the same results as a decision we might make independently, after buffering our skewed understanding through friends, work, or a partner.
In a similar way, the vow of chastity is more than just being unmarried. “It’s all about right relationship and where one’s focus is,” Sister Hannah tells me. Keeping one's focus on God, she explains, allows a sister to strive for healthy, non-possessive relationships where they aren't bound to the person by expectations or jealousy. Last year I experienced firsthand the generosity of spirit that emerges from this vow: it was the winter break of my first year of seminary and most of the student body was gone from campus. Following a series of traumatic events, I was grappling with a major life change. Sister Hannah reached out to me via Facebook Messenger with a word of support. We met for breakfast that Monday, commiserated, laughed, and hugged goodbye. It was lovely, but here’s the part that still amazes me to this day: Sister Hannah sent me a “Hi! Just checking in, how are you?” message every Monday for the entire spring semester. It was an act of kindness that displayed warm compassion, a humble confidence, and an outward focus, qualities no doubt honed by Sister Hannah’s disciplined study and application of her vows.
The new prioress’ journey to St. Mary’s began back in 2014 when, while working as a clinical dietitian at a hospital in North Carolina, Sister Hannah (then Heather), shared with the Episcopal chaplain that, despite her Baptist upbringing, she had been deeply impacted by the Roman Catholic middle school she attended. Her fondness for the liturgy, the weekday services, and the nuns who taught at the school had always stayed with her. Through the mentorship of that hospital chaplain and the Episcopal priest at the local parish she joined, Sister Hannah learned that there were vowed monastic communities within the Episcopal Church. “I really just wish I lived with a community of people who liked to go to church and do service,” she told her parish priest. “That’s called a convent,” the priest replied, “and we have those.” Google advised Sister Hannah that St. Mary’s was the closest Episcopal convent, and the rest is history.
Throughout the United States, an overt lack of awareness regarding the existence of Episcopal monastic communities is a common problem and one that frustrates Sister Hannah to no end. “It’s a vocation that is so unknown and unappreciated,” she tells me. “In the early Church and the Middle Ages, monastic houses were flourishing! Benedictine houses especially were centers of education, empowering women–where they educated royalty.” Despite often being overlooked, this rich tradition continues today. Here in southeastern Tennessee, perched on the edge of The Mountain, the Sisters of St. Mary and their extended community of associates, oblates, interns, guests, and community members continue to be formed through the ancient Rule of St. Benedict.
So friends, help a sister out and spread the word: Not only do Episcopal nuns exist, they extend to the modern Church a most relevant and precious offering: the wisdom of an alternative and radical way of life rooted in deep trust, faith, and confidence in God.
