The religious calling: to hang out with the the young

National Catholic Reporter, Feb 23, 2001 by Patricia Lefevere

No one is at home to take your call right now. If you would like to leave a message for Sr. Ursula, press 1. For Sr. Mercy, press 2. For Sr. Loretta, press 3."

Anyone who has called a convent or house of sisters, brothers or religious order priests in recent years may have heard a similar response. Thank God for voice mail! It shows that religious life is as plugged in and as personal as health care, banking and the airlines.

It also reveals that nobody is home. With the number of religious women having fallen from 181,000 at its peak in 1965 to around 80,000 today, few communities have a receptionist, porter or housekeeper designate. The same applies to houses of religious men.

But can an ordinary answering machine say more than the words on its message tape? Might it suggest that religious life is becoming more invisible and religious men and women less accessible as their numbers dwindle?

Vocations directors have been trying to frame that question more positively. Hundreds of them met last September in East Rutherford, N.J., where they looked at ways to build bridges between themselves and young adults. For four days members of the National Religious Vocation Conference rubbed heads, shoulders and prayers together and shared ideas on how to be more open to young Catholics.

Generation X Catholics number 20 million and comprise one-third of the church, but they are absent in the thousands from religious orders. Rather than faulting the culture or even Catholic parents for this, the vocations directors have begun to scrutinize their own houses. Are they interested in young people and familiar with their culture? Are they willing to hang out with youth and invite them to visit, even overnight, in their houses?

Notre Dame de Namur Sr. Mary Johnson has spent hundreds of hours with the young. A sociologist at Emmanuel College in Boston, she has worked on two national projects: Young Adult Catholics, to be published by the University of Notre Dame Press in June, and a forthcoming study of post-Vatican II entrants in religious congregations. Dean Hoge and Bill Dinges, both of Catholic University, and Juan Gonzales of California State University at Hazard co-authored the Young Adult study. Johnson has also studied generational differences in religious life, surveying 69,000 sisters in hundreds of orders.

Young people "yearn for community, for intimacy, relationships, spirituality, for the chance to serve and to be challenged and accountable," Johnson told NCR. Religious life can fulfill these yearnings if it can "connect" to GenXers. It can offer them "a unique and distinct way of life," in which contemplation and action are integral, she said.

"We're mired and tired. We're workaholics," Johnson said, noting that many religious miss the uniqueness of their own lives because "we're so busy in our ministries." Often they seem "unapproachable," and their lives look "impossible" to the young, she said.

Johnson's work revealed that post-Vatican II entrants prefer a community of between four and seven sisters. Yet 80 percent of U.S. houses of sisters are comprised of one, two or three members. She hoped that congregations would not let the housing market determine the size, availability and distribution of their communities. It's "doable" if orders start looking for larger units, she said, noting that many young entrants have made their decision on the basis of such living arrangements.

Harder to change are the attitudes some communities hold that become barriers rather than bridges to the young. "Some doubt that religious life will continue, that it has anything to offer the young, that the ministry of vocation work is even worthwhile," she said. "Even those who say they believe sometimes make decisions that undercut their words" and then are "shocked" when the order next door gets new members.

Defensiveness and a fear of returning to the past stifle growth, Johnson said. "They are subtle but poisonous barriers that can sap our hope, our optimism and our belief."

She has met religious who treat the yearning of young interested people or newer entrants as if it is "pathological." She recalled a nun who told her: "If you expect me to stay home and baby-sit these people who are looking for the family they never had ..."

According to her survey, a quarter of young adults had attended eucharistic adoration and more than half had said the rosary during the past two years. Yet many religious such piety as "conservative" and thus refrain from talking about what these practices mean to the young -- "not what they meant 35 years ago." Johnson likened this response to "committing corporate suicide."

When the young attend eucharistic adoration, hardly any of them talks about a theology of Eucharist, the sociologist said. Instead they describe the experience of quiet and stillness, how their heart rate and breathing slowed and how they can finally listen after the noise and speed of their day. They're not contrasting these experiences with what happened in the wake of Vatican II reforms, Johnson said. "They're contrasting their time with the w4der culture. They see this as an example of `distinctiveness.'"