It’s not every day you have tea with a nun.

But there we were, on our way to meet Sister Mary-Luke and Sister Gemma, two nuns of the Congregation of Jesus. Childhood memories of ‘The Sound of Music’, expansive headpieces, and disapproving looks flashed through our minds as we glanced with concern at the length of our skirts. We were, as you can imagine, a little unsure what the next hour would bring.

But there were no habits in sight when we entered the convent – a remarkably normal house just off Trumpington Street; only two friendly faces holding out cups of tea and plates of home-made apple cake.

“Yes, people are often a little surprised to find out that we’re nuns,” Sister Gemma told us with a broad smile. “Our order stopped wearing traditional habits twenty-five years ago. For some orders uniformity is very important, but we found it had a distracting effect. People would put on their ‘holy voice’ and were not quite real with us. Considering the work we do, it was also impractical.”

So, what does that work entail? For Sister Mary-Luke and Sister Catherine it means visiting patients at Addenbrookes Hospital, while Sister Hazel has been trained as a bereavement counsellor. Having completed her PhD at Cambridge, Sister Gemma now lectures in Theology at the University of London.

But even nuns need some downtime: “We all have different ways of relaxing,” Mary-Luke told us with a cheeky glint in her eye, “I like a good murder novel, others prefer TV, but we all like to get dressed up once in a while.” They use computers, drive cars, and are quite the experts when it comes to Skype. Clearly, there is no such thing as a typical nun.

Surprised at how normal their interests appeared to be, we asked what made them do something so counter-cultural; to leave the comfort of their family homes for a life governed by poverty, chastity and obedience.

Mary-Luke felt that God was calling her from the age of thirteen, and became a novice at just eighteen. “I went through great agony working out how to break the news to my parents. But once they saw that I hadn’t changed, that I was still just as bad as I ever was,” she recalled with laughter, “they soon became very supportive.” Sister Gemma recounted a similar story: “My mother cried for three days. Oh Lord, I’ll never forget.”

Even so, they’ve never regretted taking their vows. “I never ask why I’m doing this - sometimes I think I’d rather be doing something else but that’s part of the giving. You give God a blank cheque and let Him fill it in.” Gemma agreed, “Ultimately, the essential never changes: falling in love with God; being in love with God; staying in love with God.”

Their warm demeanour lit up the entire conversation, and we weren’t surprised to hear that they’d be celebrating Christmas in style. Their catering sized kitchen will be preparing “quite the feast” – not only for the order but for many members of the local community, who might otherwise spend the day alone.

In the morning, Gemma goes to Holloway prison, visiting women separated from their families. “It’s a real privilege,” she explains, “But it’s also a truly humbling experience.  It reminds me that Christ came into the world for these people, every bit as much as he came here for me.”