The Portland Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence Aren’t Looking for Trouble

But they don’t mind a little extra attention.

Sister Shiso Panda (Jordan Hundelt)

The Los Angeles Dodgers caved to homophobic pressure this May and disinvited the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence’s L.A. chapter from the ball club’s 10th annual Pride Night. A week later, the Dodgers—proving true to their swerving name—flip-flopped and reinvited the philanthropic nonprofit to Chavez Ravine.

In Portland, John Clark enjoyed the attention.

“I like that the haters are giving us more exposure and more chances for people to figure out who we are,” says Clark, also known as Sister Donna Vanewday (pronounced “dawn of a new day”), prioress of Portland’s Order of Benevolent Bliss. “One of our sisters here in Portland was the photo for a lot of the L.A. Dodgers stories in the news just because it’s like, ‘Oh, here’s a picture of a Sister, let’s pop that on!’ The public doesn’t make that distinction a lot of the time.”

The Sisters—who have chapters around the world, from Alabama to Uruguay—first convened on Easter 1979 in San Francisco, spreading cheer and absolving guilt in traditionally Catholic nun habits. They host charity events, fundraising for sex education, gender expression and social equality.

Historically, the Sisters have supported HIV patients since the outset of the AIDS crisis (along with cancer research and marijuana legalization). They have faced decades of opposition from the Catholic Church and Christian conservatives, from Jerry Falwell and Anita Bryant to Bishop Robert Barron and, now, Dodgers pitching ace Clayton Kershaw.

Today’s Sisters do not adhere to any one spiritual practice and wear self-styled habits with drag makeup painted on clown-white foundation instead of Sister Act costumes. But they’re a prominent target for hate nonetheless: The Sisters tap into the fabulosity of Catholic ritualism for the LGBTQ+ community’s benefit, à la Madonna and Lady Gaga, and in so doing draw criticism that they’re mocking people of faith.

Clark sees an opportunity. “We have had people more interested because they see more hate directed our way,” Clark says. “They go, ‘Wait, if these people are being hated, they must be doing something [right]!’”

The Order of Benevolent Bliss got its Portland start in June 2005 as an offshoot of the Abbey of St. Joan, Seattle’s house of Sisters. Clark, who joined the Sisters in 2012 after seeing them on YouTube, tells WW that the Portland order hasn’t suffered the same level of online hate as the L.A. house, and that local membership has actually increased.

That’s in part because the order keeps a lower profile. It has no plans to appear at major sporting events—no Timbers, Blazers, Thorns or even Pickles games. Instead, the Sisters will be found among revelers at such functions as the Sea Sickening Boat pRide on the Portland Spirit, the Portlandia Mermaid Parade, and Portland’s Trans Pride March during the Pride Parade.

For more than five years, the Order of Benevolent Bliss has deployed yards of rainbow flags to shield marchers from homophobic and transphobic hecklers, and it plans to do so again this year.

“What I realized is, we need some way to block these people out,” Clark says. “If we can keep our community from even having to look at them, then that solves multiple problems.”

Problem one: The stress of being targeted with vitriol while marching. Problem two: The thrill hecklers get from seeing a reaction or starting a confrontation. “It cuts off the source of what the protesters want,” Clark says. “They want that stress. They want people to be upset and yell at them and push back so they can feel like they’re doing something.”

The Sisters would rather focus on parties. More precisely, they’re helping get Portland’s LGBTQ+ community back together for in-person events. That’s especially crucial for newer Sisters who joined during the pandemic, and for people who feel overwhelmed and isolated by a tide of hate.

“It may not feel helpful to say, ‘You’re not alone,’ but a lot of people are feeling the same thing, and a lot of the Sisters are feeling the same thing,” Clark says. “I think what can help is focusing on the things you can affect. It can be very easy to look at some of the wider things happening in our country or our world and think, ugh, everything is horrible! If we all focus more on our own community and neighborhoods and shore up there, and everyone’s doing that, then that’s how we change things.”

GO: The Sea Sickening Boat pRide boards at 1010 SW Naito Parkway, 801-368-8918, portlandsisters.org. 2-5 pm Sunday, July 16. $55-$130.

See more of Willamette Week’s Pride 2023 coverage here!

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