(UNDATED) A nun could get whiplash these days.

This morning I read about a new documentary that tells the heroic tale of nuns in Eastern Europe sent to prison camps in Siberia and into exile in the Stalinist days after World War II. I’m proud of them — and deeply moved by their lives. I hope everyone gets to see this program, which was produced by the Sisters of St. Joseph and funded by the U.S. bishops’ Catholic Communication Campaign. ABC will get it Sept.13, and if affiliates choose to air it, it will make gripping television.

Then I read a Catholic News Service story about the Vatican investigation of U.S. nuns that reported that I could confidentially contact investigators with concerns I might have about my order. It made me wonder how we nuns are perceived. Is my happiness as a sister suspect? My lifestyle? Can’t I just e-mail my own head nun when I have concerns? I wonder what my family will think? Will the young adults who asked me to read at their weddings start to wonder about the aunt they think is special?

Then I read a news story about a deposition in which a man in trouble with his bishop said the bishop had threatened to send him to live with nuns — as punishment! The bishop denies having done so. The story amazed me because despite my vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, and service to the poor, sick and ignorant — we Sisters of Mercy promise the fourth vow for good measure –I’ve never considered convent life a prison. I’ve even known priests who lived in convents in their retirement or as chaplains (or both) and they seemed to have it pretty good. Good meals, intelligent conversation, rent-free, a kind of maid service. (OK, that rankles me, but it’s what we women habitually do for men.) The priest who felt threatened by his bishop would have been smart to take the boss up on such an offer.

Actually, over the years convents have been a hiding place for more than one priest battling his bishop. Sisterly advice usually went something like this: You’re a wonderful priest; many need your service; things will calm down. All the sisters love you! They’re delighted when you join them in the dining room. Your friends are always welcome. I’m sorry about the confusion with the laundry — Sister Mary’s nightgown wasn’t supposed to be in with your t-shirts. Meanwhile, what do you need to be comfortable?

Nuns all around me work to help people. On their way out of morning Mass they’re often called aside by women who want prayers that they’ll become pregnant, help with getting care for an elderly parent, comfort and practical advice for dealing with an irksome kid. Recently, an older sister I know went to court to ask for mercy for a mugger who broke her arm and stole her purse. She had taught boys, she told the judge, and knew that troubled young men could change their lives after some guidance and maturity. I’m proud to know these women and even prouder to be counted among them.

I’ve seen nuns do everything from save the research of an aging scholar whom others are not wise enough to value, to accompany the sick to medical appointments, tutor a kid who won’t get his DVD player back until his math scores go up, and pray with the dying. And they do all this in their spare time.

Their official ministries are impressive too. For starters, they run clinics in the inner-city, head the Catholic Health Association, teach in Head Start programs, preside over universities; visit the sick, minister in parishes, and, in the end, offer up their own illnesses for others.

As I said, it’s whiplash time for nuns. Who knows what the next story will bring?

(Sister Mary Ann Walsh is director of media relations for the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops.)