BOOK REVIEW : Nuns Then and Now: A Change of Habit : SISTERS; Lives of Devotion and Defiance <i> by Julia Lieblich</i> ; Ballantine Books $20; 292 pages

All adult Catholics probably can make a distinction between the religion they grew up with (enduring the primary education that has spawned the countless bumper stickers “I Survived Catholic School,” chewing grimly on ill-cooked fish once a week, listening to Sunday sermons that--to put it tactfully--inspired much creative inattention) and the pluralistic Catholicism that exists now. Today, in America, there are probably as many modes of Catholic worship as there are Catholic churches, or even Catholics.

Recently, out of the blue, a nun, who had traveled the world, said to me, “We nuns have more freedom than any married woman, or any mom, could ever have. That’s always been true. We have always had that freedom.” This seems strange and unexpected, in a church that depends on hierarchy, and is ultimately answerable to a single man in Rome. But these questions are exactly the ones that the author here, Julia Lieblich, addresses.

Lieblich profiles four women--one of them an “enclosed” contemplative nun, the other three who were working out on the edge of “liberation theology.” Lieblich, who is Jewish, admits a lifelong fascination with the romantic ideal of the nun--the flowing habit, the mystery of the convent, the special quality that a single life takes on after it has been dedicated to good works and spirituality. (I can’t help thinking: A few good whacks on the back of her hands by Sister Edith’s ruler might have altered this starry-eyed attitude just a little. But, of course, Sister Edith was then, now is now.)

Nevertheless, there is not one word of criticism here or skepticism or even neutrality in this book. Lieblich is on the side of the angels, and, by extension, on the side of her nuns.

The contemplative nun appears here, if I read correctly, for balance, and only that. Faith and silent prayer are important, but good works are what fascinate Lieblich, and the three active nuns are indeed heroines, “sheroes,” as Barbara Boxer might call them. The three active nuns share a lower-middle-class background, the culture shock that came in the old days from always having to keep your eyes cast down, to ask permission for a bar of soap, to live days in which silence predominated, except for very short periods of recreation, and so on.

But gradually with all three, the questions of freedom and of who is in authority begin to come into play. When the habits begin to come off, the habits , so to say, come apart too. When, in the ‘60s, certain convents would do something displeasing to a bishop, he might fire off an irate letter, which might be, in turn, answered in language so vague that the nuns might continue with what they were doing. These passages, in their specificity, are fascinating reading, because they venture far beyond the boundaries of the Catholic Church.

A person in authority can only retain his authority if everybody else does what he says! The tale of these three brave activist nuns follows the evolution of three child-like, uneducated girls into three dedicated, fearless dynamos.

Sister Mary Dame Aileen was sent to Central and South America to “save the world from Godless Communism.” She ended up living in filth with campesinos, trying the best she could to save them. Sister Donna Quinn decided that men ought not to be messing around with a woman’s right to abortion, and nearly gave Jean Gerome Cardinal Hamer a coronary, by telling him so to his face .

Finally, Sister Darlene Nicgorski, who had also done her time in Central America and knew of the anguish and terror of death squads firsthand, came home north of the border, where she began to work in the sanctuary movement, sheltering refugees, then moving them north. She was eventually indicted by the federal government on six felony counts and underwent a grueling five-month trial, in which she was eventually found guilty.

All these women share blazing faith and saint-like qualities. But even the contemplative nun thinks now that their vows were “anti-human.” The other three have radically redefined their traditional vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. Authority still asserts itself, repeatedly. These lionhearted nuns seem not to care.