But as the Abbey's prioress, Sister Christiana Puregaëspella Metroform, or Sister Metro, explained: "The pandemic pretty much brought us to a halt, because our ministry is about approaching people, which we could not do at that time."

In the last year, however, the Sisters have worked to recover the spirit and energy that has defined them as a force in the Queer community for four decades.

The pandemic's effects
During the pandemic, as bars and other venues closed due to public health concerns, the order's means of approaching people became impossible. Some even closed for good, and the social practices and rhythms within the Queer community itself changed. Such changes have impacted the ways the Sisters approach others.

Sister Berna Bush, one of the Abbey's active nuns, describes how they have noticed a shift in the way that people respond to their presence. "You can't just go around and hit up every single bar goer. It [has become] very controlled and very cliquey in a certain way. And without being able to be out as often and in the same public way led to a lot of people not having the same reaction to us that they had in the past."

Alongside ministry, the pandemic hit the Sisters in their daily life. "It kept us at home," said Sister Metro, recalling the difficulties of having to have meetings over Zoom. Sister Berna, the Abbey's most recently fully professed nun, recalled even receiving her black veil — the ceremony in which a nun becomes fully professed — over Zoom in November 2020. The inability to meet in person led to several sisters falling by the wayside, while COVID itself led some to leave Seattle.

From 2020 to the present, the Abbey went from having around 15 members actively involved to around 6-8. In normal times, the Abbey sees a handful of interested individuals become junior members each year. Since 2020, there have only been four junior members in the pipeline, and according to Sister Berna, "it took almost a year and half before we even had them start joining us up."

Since public health restrictions have been lifted, the Abbey has strived to regain visibility. Being unable to host their own events since 2020, the nuns have lately found themselves supporting other organizations and venues. They routinely operate coat checks as a fundraiser during events at bars such as CC's, and on July 14 disbursed over $16,000 in grants to local charities during their anniversary party at the Lumber Yard.

But that situation is looking up. On August 19, the Sisters will host their first major event since COVID began, facing off against the Quake Rugby in a game of kickball as they revive their annual event, "Jockstraps and Glitter," at Cal Anderson Park.

Updated outreach
For both Sisters Metro and Berna, this period provided an opportunity for reflection on the order's mission and purpose. Founded in the crucible of another viral pandemic, the Sisters are reinventing their work on HIV/AIDS awareness and safer sex outreach. Calling itself "a group of twenty-first century nuns" in its mission statement, the Abbey is working hard to keep their sexual health strategies, information, and attitudes in line with the developments of the twenty-first century.

Current efforts in the Abbey focus on updating the organization's approach to safer sex outreach in light of PrEP, doxy-PEP, and the mpox outbreak. Barrier methods of STI prevention have been a historical hallmark of the Sisters' approach, and as willing as they are to embrace newer strategies, they see a conundrum in how to minister effectively without the tangible sign of a condom to hand out to people.

Furthermore, as part of the mission to mitigate health risks, Sister Metro wants to see Narcan in every nun's purse should they find themselves called upon to help reverse an opioid overdose.

Work still to do
Even events outside of Seattle have brought the Abbey's mission and purpose into sharp relief. Public attention focused on the Los Angeles house's experience with Pride Night with the Dodgers last June. The protests of a small number of highly visible and vocal religious conservatives led to the team rescinding an honor — only to have them backpedal that decision once the backlash reached fever pitch. The Dodgers underestimated how important the Sisters are to the Queer community.

Yet, as Sister Berna notes, "The Dodgers really did demonstrate that we are seeing a pendulum [swing], where you saw that the trolls that the church groups had sent after the Sisters were in a more legitimate position to actually take action, [which] I don't think could have happened four years ago." The controversy instigated by the conservative organizations highlighted a wider problem of reactionary hostility toward Queer people nationwide. To the Abbey, this is evidence that stigmatic guilt is alive and well and targeting the Queer community, and a sign that they have work to do.

For anyone who has missed the Sisters, their return to Seattle's Queer social life is a welcome development. The task of promulgating universal joy and expiating stigmatic guilt is ever in need of workers, and the nuns of Seattle's Abbey of St. Joan are back and ready to throw back their veils and roll up their sleeves. Whether it be in the bars, in the news, or on the kickball field, they are breaking out of their cloister and coming to a venue or event near you.