Old Habits Die Easily

Catholic Identity at Risk

One of the more curious developments in Catholicism here in the states over the past, say thirty years or so, has been the widespread jettisoning of religious habits by a good number of religious and priests. How did this trend come about? What are its fons et origo? And probing deeper, why did it happen? These are questions that have dogged me for some time, especially when paging through old, black and white pictures of nuns donning beautiful habits in times past. There was something mysterious and beautiful about these sisters, very modest, simple and humble, and yet, deeply feminine, secure, and convicted in who they were. The contrast to many of today's "reformed" nuns couldn't be more acute, as vast swaths have abandoned the old ways, beginning with the austere habits, preferring to dress like, well, everybody else, or at least, how they think everybody else is dressing nowadays. (Usually, they get even this part wrong.) Except, as religious, they're not just like everybody else. It's sad to see so many religious trying so hard to fit in, like the little kid at school who does anything just for the popular kids to pay her the slightest notice and to like her.

What was/is the driving force behind this insatiable desire to dumb down, to blend in with the rest of society, as opposed to boldly standing out, starting with the right interior life and then the exterior dress, as a Catholic religious in the world? Is it rooted in a sincere conviction that one can better "reach" the modern man/woman by more closely resembling him/her in dress? Or is the ubiquitous habit jilting fad among the LPNs (Lapel Pin Nuns) more the result of one seeking to avoid the glances and stares of the public in an increasingly secular world? Were those antediluvian habits simply too uncomfortable and too constricting, when held up to those dowdy yet ever so liberating Hillary Clinton inspired pant suits?

The Church has long taught that interior dispositions necessarily manifest themselves exteriorly. Traditionally, one of the visible means of expression of a religious' identity has been the ceremonial "putting on" of a religious garb, often a rather conspicuous garb at that. But why has the habit of old been whittled down in so many instances to a small lapel pin cross, barely visible when set against the backdrop of a garish outfit plucked from the sales rack at Penny's? Sister Mary and Sister Therese have been replaced by Sister Karen and Sister Betty. Is this what the founders of the various orders had in mind? I don't believe so.

For the past several decades, there has been a surreptitious effort underway to dilute the unique attributes and marks of Catholicism, allegedly to make the faith more palatable to a fickle public. "If we do X or get rid of Y, more will come, more will like us, etc." Again, the analogy of the attention-starved kid at school comes to mind. The end result of this experiment in pandering has been an endemic identity crisis, along with ample manifestations of bad taste, in terms of liturgical music, vestments and other sacred objets d'art. The questions must be asked: Who are we? What do we believe? What makes Catholics Signs of Contradiction in the world? (as opposed to searching out ways to merely "blend in") As has been well documented, (see the Pope's excellent book, The Spirit of the Liturgy) the Liturgy, and how it is understood by the faithful, has been transformed quite dramatically into simply a means by which the individual believer perceives that he is or is not being "moved" our "touched" in the subjective sense. If it doesn't "do" anything for me, if it doesn't make me feel good in the realm of the emotional, the worth or value of the Liturgy itself is called into question. In other words, the Liturgy must bend to fit the ever-shifting demands of a moody public. We've been playing this self-effacing game of appeasement and accommodation for the past thirty years and the dismal results are in, as contorted ideas of "Faith Community," in a quasi-narcissitic sense bordering on self-worship, have displaced the worship of God.

The implications for this transformation, some may justifiably call it a revolution, are enormous and cannot be glossed over as merely one man's opinion. The facts alone speak volumes. Consider the following:

- How many Catholics in the United States actually believe in the Real Presence?

- Ever since this liturgical tinkering commenced, how much has Mass attendance plummeted over the past several decades?

- At the surface level, merely looking at the external way that Liturgy is celebrated in a typical Catholic parish, is it all that different from the run of the mill Episcopalian or Lutheran service?

- Why are vocations to religious orders, especially progressive ones that have watered down their identity, hitting all time lows?

- Why are so many pastors content to have the execution of the central pillar of the faith, i.e., the Liturgy, unfold amid mediocre music, paltry solemnity and nose-diving attendance levels?

It's almost as thought there's a concerted effort to drive people away via Catholic kitsch.

Is it a stretch to propose that, in straining so hard to fit in (as the Catholic Church has done in this country for the past several decades), one risks losing hold of that which makes him distinct in the first place? Why the hyper-active eagerness to be average, to shed ancient traditions, to lower the bar and just blend in? By virtue of their baptism, Catholics are distinct, by virtue of their vows, religious are unique. By virtue of its status as the Bride of Christ, the Church isn't just one institution among many in a pluralistic world. That may be how non-Catholics perceive the Church, but that's certainly not how we should, as Catholics. What's wrong with demonstrating a little audacity, chutzpah even, and showing off our array of ancient customs, traditions and beliefs?