In Focus - Consecrated Virginity ( April 2026 )

In Focus

Title: A Joyful Contradiction

Intro

Simi Sahu writes about Consecrated Virginity, and her journey towards it. 

Article

Consecrated Virginity, a little known vocation in the Catholic Church, is one of the most ancient forms of consecrated life. So it might be surprising that we already know several of them from the Early Church; in fact, we remember them in the Eucharistic prayers often: Saints Agatha, Lucy, Agnes, Cecilia, and Anastasia. Since apostolic times, out of spousal love for Jesus, some women dedicated their lives to Him in virginity. Their spiritual fertility comes from an intimate relationship with Christ which allowed them to offer the fruits of this relationship to the Church and the world. This unique way of life expressed the mystery of the Church as the Bride of Christ: revealing the intimate nature of the relationship that Jesus wanted to establish with the community of those who believed in Him. (ESI, 1) Their presence reminds the Church of who, and whose, she really is. Unlike religious and monastic vocations that belong to convents and monasteries, this vocation belongs in the local diocese led by the bishop. Consecrated Virgins live in their ordinary homes, worship at local churches and are consecrated and guided by their bishops. 

At the age of 14, when I first encountered Christ in the Eucharist at a Jesus Youth retreat in Kearney, New Jersey, I would not have called the love I received and gave Jesus as ‘spousal.’ That was something I assumed was only for regular husbands and wives. It would have seemed ridiculous to love God in a spousal way – and in some ways it still does! What I did know and could say even at that time, was my surprise at Jesus and being drawn to Him deeply. 

Having grown up in India with a Hindu father and a Catholic mother, I certainly believed in God’s existence, His power and His commandments for all to live morally. What took me completely by surprise was that God was a person. A real person. Not just a force, or a power, or some sort of consciousness. A person with a name, a face, a voice, and a heart. This meant that I could know God in a very different way. That it was possible to have a friendship with God. It was possible to know Him and so it was possible to really love Him. 

I went home and cried for about two or three days, asking my mother why she didn’t tell me that Jesus was truly real: as real, and more real than me and her. She did not know how to respond except to say that she tried her best by taking me to Church, telling me the stories of the Gospels at night and making sure I received baptism. I was in shock because ever since I was a little girl, a part of me worried that I was alone in the world and everyone around me was perhaps not really real – so in some strange way, Jesus was the first person I knew as real, even more real than me. He was also entirely noble, fully powerful, and yet completely humble. Knowing He did not have to become one of us, I asked Him simply, ‘Why did you come here (to earth)?’ I felt Him say to me, ‘I came here to be with you. Because I love you.’ At the age of 14, I would not have called it spousal love before the Eucharist but I knew then that I wanted to live for Him and that nothing and no one else would matter to me like Him. However, many turns and several years would pass before I would even consider a celibate vocation, but the seeds were already there. 

I did not feel particularly attracted to religious life and so was dating during college years, yet, a subtle nagging feeling persisted that there was someone already in my heart, occupying me in a way that I could not give myself to anyone else. Since I volunteered at the campus priest’s office, I shared this with him and also that I was thinking of therapy for it. He asked if I considered discerning my vocation. 

It would still take a few years before the connection between my desire for marriage and the marriage feast of the Lamb became apparent, but it became most clear during my time in Haiti, serving as a full-timer. Spending each day with priests, religious and seminarians in daily Mass and Liturgy of the Hours, spending the whole day in mission, and coming back to quiet evenings with the breviary and some fellowship, I felt unusually content and mysteriously fulfilled. One evening having a cup of tea and spending time listening to the Lord in the breviary, I realised it was the fulfilment of a dream I had for my future marriage. To spend my life with a true friend, whom I’d want to know deeper for the rest of my life, who would care to know me, and with whom I could build a home of love. It seemed strange but the peace within me, even with many contradictions and struggles, was real. 

As I returned to public accounting as a profession I also started visiting religious orders – their lives are a recipe for holiness: the evangelical vows, life in community and visible witness of belonging to their orders. Yet when I would visit convents, I felt certain that I was called to live in the world, and that the Lord would provide for me not through a community or a structure within the Church but simply Himself through providence. I also knew that I was somehow not called to live as His bride privately, but that He would espouse me in righteousness before all (Hosea 2:19) and this would be tied to the public life of the Church. I also felt certain that although community life would be important, the spousal aspect of my vocation would be primary. I suspected, and was told by many respected, that this was not possible. But through spiritual direction and a few close friendships, I persevered long enough till I found out about this vocation. 

Until 2018, apart from the Rite of Consecration itself, there was a description of it in Canon Law (Canon 604) and the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC 922-924). I had many other questions about the vocation and asked the Lord for greater clarity, which were abundantly answered when Ecclesiae Sponsae Imago, the instructions about Consecrated Virginity were released on the Feast of the Sacred Heart. There was nothing left to discern, only to apply and wait for the response of the Church. 

Consecrated Virgins are ‘inscribed’ into their diocese as part of the Order of Virgins and remain under the guidance of the bishop. In the solemn Rite of Consecration at the hands of the bishop, with the local Church gathered around them, Consecrated Virgins resolve to persevere in the state of virginity, to be faithful witnesses and signs of the Kingdom of Heaven and accept the solemn consecration as brides of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. They come to the Mass of Consecration wearing a wedding gown and with an oil lamp, signifying the greatest desire of the human person to be united with God, completely and forever. The gathered community prays for them as they lie prostrate during the Litany of Saints before the bishop who prays the consecratory prayer over them. After this they are given three ‘insignias’ or signs as marks of this espousal: a veil to remind them that they are now hidden in Christ and belong to Him, a ring on their ring finger to mark them as a spouse of Christ, and a breviary that they might pray constantly for the salvation of the world. Consecrated Virgins must provide for their means and do not take on any special titles or items of clothing. This consecration is perpetual and at par with perpetual vows of religious life in terms of their permanence. 

I have had the joy of witnessing many inspiring Consecrated Virgins serving their local churches and the world, through their hidden lives of prayer and work as doctors, teachers, canon lawyers, hospice workers, vocations work, nurses, and even in the military. They remind us that the Church is not fruitful because of human wisdom, planning or help, but because the Lord Himself overshadows her so that she can bear Christ to the world. 

To a world that thinks of the Church primarily as buildings or an institution of organised power, it reminds her that the Church is a woman – a bride and a mother. A bride is not simply a daughter since she must step into her womanhood and be a true counterpart to her bridegroom, yet, she is also led by Him and delights and rests in His care. The Lord is not only the Saviour of mankind, He is also the Divine Spouse: the one who sees and seeks out her beauty and refuses to share her love with other false gods. In Mary we see that the poverty and vulnerability of virginity is not something to dismiss or fix…it is something to open to the Lord who guards, protects and makes it fruitful beyond all expectations. 

Author Profile

Simi Sahu is a Consecrated Virgin inscribed in the Diocese of Palm Beach and lives in Delray Beach, Florida. She serves as the CFO of Florida Cooperative of Theological Studies, an organisation working to make theological education more accessible in South Florida.