In the Baroque era, most educated men wore wigs as a matter of course. Some men grew their hair long and tied it back to conform to wig fashions. Many combined their long hair with a wig (the front part might be false, or just the back piece). Farmers, manual laborers and servants were exceptions: they did not wear wigs. Whether monks and priests could or should wear wigs was a matter of opinion and often required negotiations with the local bishop: some clerics were deeply convinced that they needed this head covering for health reasons. Others felt obliged to the wig because of class: being shorn made you look like a criminal or a man on the fringes of society. Those who wanted to socialize in high society were better off with a wig (Benediktiner-Museum, 1791, 2:147). 

Sarah Ferber hat 2015 über die körperliche Bußpraxis im prestigeträchtigen Cistercienserinnenkloster Maubuisson bei Paris im 17. Jh. geforscht. Die Verfasserin schreibt, aus nichtreligiöser Perspektive, von "devotional violence"; freilich würden erfahren geistliche Lehrer eher von Askese und Abtötung sprechen. Die Frauen von Montbuisson sind geschichtlich interessant, weil in ihrem Kloster von etwa 1600 bis 1640 die Frage der Bußpraxis für die Entlassung von einigen Beichtvätern gesorgt hat und einer von ihnen, Louis Quinet (von 1627 bis 1630 dort Beichtvater), später als geistlicher Schriftsteller bekannt wurde.
Die Bußpraxis in einem Frauenkloster muss nicht so dramatisch sein, wie die Klatschpresse sie schildert. Es gab eine breite Auswahl an Maßnahmen, die vom dramatischen Cilicium (ein Beispiel ist im Bild: Berninis Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi in Rom) bis zu relativ Harmlosem reicht, etwa: Chicorée ohne Essig essen. Ferbers Aufsatz beschränkt sich in keiner Weise auf gruselige Details, sondern interessiert sich für "Maubuisson als wichtiges Labor zur Untersuchung der Spannungen im geistigen Leben Frankreichs nach den Religionskriegen". Andere Fragen wie etwa das Selbstbild der Frauen, ihre Selbstbestimmung gegenüber betreuenden Priestern, die für sie nicht streng genug waren und eine Art anti-Körperkult laden zur vertieften Auseinandersetzung ein.  

Sarah Ferber, Devotional violence and emotional governance in a seventeenth-century French female religious house. In: Violence and Emotions in Early Modern Europe. Routledge, 2015, 111-126. Ebenso empfehlenswert ist die thematisch verwandte Monographie: Barbara B. Diefendorf, From Penitence to Charity: Pious Women and the Catholic Reformation in France, Oxford University Press, 2004.

​Inkorporierte Pfarreien sind in vielen Teilen der Welt unbekannt und sind – so meinen manche – seit CIC/1983 kirchenrechtlich gar nicht mehr vertretbar.
Weit gefehlt: Pfarreien, die aus der geschichtlich gewachsenen Grundherrschaft der Prälatenklöster hervorgegangen sind, haben heute noch einen gewaltigen Einfluss, wenn nicht sogar den größten Einfluss überhaupt, auf das Leben der vielen Cistercienser- und Benediktinerstifte in Österreich. Die Arbeitseinteilung und sogar das Selbstverständnis der Mönche hängt eng mit dem Einsatz auf "ihren" Pfarren zusammen. 
Ein neues Buch von Elias Krexner OSB beleuchtet die inkorporierten Pfarren aus kirchenrechtlicher Perspektive. Wie ist es zur Pfarrinkorporation gekommen, und wie hat sich die Frage vom CIC/1917 bis CIC/1983 entwickelt? Dabei zeigt sich eine uneinheitliche Lage, die – wie der Buchtitel unterstreicht – eben Dialogmaterie ist.
Mit der Inkorporation ist auf jeden Fall Präsentationsrecht verbunden, diese obliegt also dem Klosteroberen, aber er muss nicht einen Priester aus seinem Konvent präsentieren. Exkorporation ist inzwischen für die Klöster attraktiv geworden; früher war das Thema undenkbar aufgrund der wirtschaftlichen Vorteile der Grundherrschaft! Für personenarme Klöster sind inkorporierte Pfarren eine Last geworden, da im Konvent nicht genug Priester vorhanden sind. Dazu stellen sich seit einigen Jahren die spirituell-monastischen Fragen: Ist die Mönchsberufung nicht was anderes als die des (Land-)pfarrers? Wo werden die geistlichen Zentren der kommenden 30 Jahre liegen, und wie sollen die Klöster zu ihrer Betreuung beitragen? 
Wer sich für diese Fragen interessiert und rechtlich kompetent mitreden möchte, sollte Krexners Buch lesen.

Brenner was an underground Cistercian murdered during the persecution of the Catholic Church in Hungary in 1957.  His success with the parish youth was seen as a danger to communist propaganda. The above picture speaks of his radiance and popularity. His murderers were never called to justice. Brenner was beatified on May 1, 2018, and his tomb is now in the Szombathely cathedral.

He was murdered during a plot that lured him out of his rectory in the middle of the night by a boy who claimed that his uncle was dying. Brenner was to bring him Holy Communion. A group of men was waiting in the woods and killed him. The exhibit below shows Brenner's bloodied surplice and his cassock torn by knives; Brenner's corpse was left at the roadside. He is called "the Hungarian Tarcisius," a reference to the third-century martyr who died to protect the Eucharist.

Brenner was a postulant at Zirc Abbey and received instruction there with other novices and juniors. In the photo below, he is shown at the right. He professed his vows in secret, was in constant contact with his superiors, and considered himself an underground Cistercian. He shared this fate with quite a few monks whose vows were recognized by the Vatican after 1989.

János was one of three brothers; they were all ordained priests. His younger brother, Josef, shown below, was ordained just months before János was murdered. He would have liked to become a Cistercian, too, but by then the political suppression had made it impossible. He served the Diocese of Szombathely, but was never made pastor because of his refusal to collaborate with communists. After the regime was ousted, he became Vicar General of his diocese. He has encouraged veneration for his brother for over sixty years. Today he is 89 years old, and going strong.  

Paul Verdeyen, SJ, senior expert in Cistercian Studies, recently published a new critical edition of Bernard vitae in Sources chrétiennes no. 619 (2022). Raffaele Fassetta, OCSO, monk of Tamié, wrote the introductions. In his review in the Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, Wim Verball notes that these new books with the medieval vitae compiled by William of Saint-Thierry, Arnold of Bonneval, and Geoffrey of Auxerre are desperately important for Cistercian scholars because of the uncertainty that abounds regarding the life of the famous abbot of Clairvaux.
A lot of that uncertainty comes from the wide distribution of excellent publications by Adriaan H. Bredero (1921–2007). In many books and articles, Bredero showed how the three vitae in question were heavily manipulated in order to get Bernard canonized faster (the canonization was in 1174).
Verbaal's review of the new edition is laudatory, but he makes an important point regarding Verdeyen's commentary and Fassetta's introduction: they take the medieval source texts too literally. His critique reminds readers that Bernard is considered to be one of the greatest rhetoricians of his day. His use of irony as well as layers of rhetorical strategy make it misleading to read texts by and about him at face value. Historians working with rhetorically-nuanced texts need to take more factors into consideration than just the letters on the page. Medieval hagiography is not to be used as documentary evidence for facts. Taking it literally can lead to flawed conclusions. At the end of his review, Verbaal encourages his readers to use Pranger (Bernard of Clairvaux and the shape of monastic thought), Bruun (Parables: Bernard of Clairvaux's mapping of spiritual topography), Newman (on narratives of Cistercian beginnings), Engh (performing the bride), Chapman (Sacred authority and temporal power in Bernard's writings), and more. See Wim Verbaal, Mélanges. Vie de Saint Bernard. RHE 119 (2024) 284–287. 

Cardinal Richelieu received the cardinal's biretta today, in 1622. Many do not know how important l'Éminence Rouge was to monastic orders in the 17th century, since he was neither monk nor theologian. The infamous cardinal was, however, Abbot General of the Cistercians, Benedictines, and Premonstratensians... all at the same time. Cistercian historian Louis Lekai called him "one of the most intriguing personalities of French history," noting that Richelieu was a master of ecclesiastical administration, and manipulated it to his own benefit. 
He was particularly interested in prelatial abbeys, not mendicants, since the ancient monastic orders had so much power and wealth: "The traditional feudal privileges of these orders were still virtually intact; they ruled over hundreds of monasteries in possession of the richest land of the country; and, since they were dominated by the French nobility, considerable political power enhanced their immense material wealth" (Lekai, “Cardinal Richelieu as Abbot of Citeaux.” The Catholic Historical Review 42.2 (1956) 137–156, at 138). 
Another fascinating thing about Richelieu is his relationship to Armand de Rancé (1626–1700), the famous Trappist ascetic. Rancé was born into a wealthy Parisian family. As a boy, he enjoyed a close relationship with Cardinal Richelieu, because he was Rancé’s godfather. After his conversion, Rancé became an ardent reformer. But as a boy and young man, the future Trappist had the same first name as the cardinal.