Monasteries Grow in Popularity as Young People Seek Meaning

The day begins early in this holy place on the high desert.

It’s still dark when the black-robed monks of St. Andrew’s Abbey gather in the chapel for vigils. They will gather four more times before the day ends in the Grand Silence--when they will not speak again, save prayer, until after breakfast the next morning.

These are men who have decided to shun wives and kids, nice homes in the suburbs, fast jobs and fast cars in search of a more spiritual existence. Instead of fame and fortune, the monks have chosen to follow the morality and virtue of St. Benedict established centuries ago.

The men of St. Andrew’s are not alone. Though statistics show seminary enrollments in the United States have dropped off in recent years--from 37,383 in 1967 to 5,527 in 1997--priests of different religious orders say they have noticed a renewed and conservative religious interest among young people.

“The whole point of monastic life, of living in one place and having the kind of schedule that we have, is to be focused on what we focus on--which is God,” said Brother Andrew Hayes.

At 27, he is among the youngest at St. Andrew’s Abbey. In choosing this lifestyle, these men plan to live the rest of their lives secluded at this unlikely Benedictine monastery on the rocky edge of the Mojave Desert north of Los Angeles.

On a hill overlooking the low-slung, ranch-style buildings of the abbey is the cemetery where they eventually will be laid to rest.

Diverse Motivations

The reasons the men join are as different as the men themselves.

Lui Toilolo chose his career path in the fifth grade.

Toilolo, 36, will take his simple vows later this month. Eventually he plans to become a priest.

“When I look at the monks I see a person striving for holiness,” he said. “That’s what I want, and I think that’s why I’m here.”

Toilolo’s is perhaps the traditional tale.

For many the road that led them to lives of God wasn’t a long one filled with years of hands-clasped, eyes-to-heaven piety.

Brother Boniface Butterworth, 26, worked as a computer programmer for the Kansas Turnpike when he left to join St. Benedict’s Abbey in Atchison, Kan. He said he didn’t consider himself “religious” growing up, and it wasn’t until he had joined the work force that he realized his life was unfulfilling.

He began to question, and his interest in philosophy sparked an interest in God.

“I thought if God exists then there’s another purpose for life,” he said. “Seeking God and living a good life seems to make a lot of sense.”

But to some men, the sole idea of a lifetime without bills and 9-to-5 workdays is enough to send them knocking on monastery doors. Vocation directors, like the Rev. Simon O’Donnell at St. Andrew’s, easily spot them and turn them away.

O’Donnell said some don’t realize that the monastery doesn’t have to take everyone who seeks to join. He compares living in a cloister to a marriage--it’s a big commitment to spend a lifetime with someone.

“There probably isn’t a lot of satisfaction in following a strict lifestyle that really doesn’t do something inside of you, that doesn’t enhance your spiritual relationship with God,” O’Donnell said.

‘Tug of the Heart’ Describes Calling

The monks say that it is difficult to describe the “calling” or feeling they get when they realize they have been chosen by God. Toilolo characterizes it as “a calm, deep sigh.” Others describe it as an “inner peace” or a “tug of the heart.”

“The most important thing in life is to work on one’s relationship with God,” Hayes said. “So I thought, ‘What’s a good way for me to do that?’ I thought monastic life would be the best way.”

Father Meinrad Miller, director of vocations at St. Benedict’s Abbey, attributes the initial spark in religious curiosity to Pope John Paul II’s visit at World Youth Day in Denver in 1993.

“Literally hundreds of thousands of young people around the world gathered, joyful about their faith,” he said. “A lot of them began to think at that time of serving the priesthood or religious life. It was a watershed event.”

Miller, young himself at 34, said he knows 40 men and women at the campus of Benedictine College who are “serious” about devoting their life to God. That is out of 800 students.

He said the trend is much different than when he went to the school in the early 1980s.

“The number of people thinking about it . . . if it was five I would have been surprised,” Miller said.

Interestingly, many of the young people seem to be rejecting progressive religious ideals born after the Catholic religious reform of Vatican II, instead striving toward a more classical life of prayer.

“It seems to me younger people are wanting none of this wishy-washy stuff,” Toilolo said one recent afternoon as he was fitted into his black vestments. “They want to stand for something, they want to belong.”

“I think that those who are joining . . . are more conservative because nowadays everything goes,” he said. “I think people are sick and tired of this because they think, this can’t be right.”

Some priests, however, are skeptical about the rise in interest.

The Rev. Joe Morris, a chaplain at St. John’s University School of Law in Queens, N.Y., used to teach seminarians.

When Morris’ generation entered the priesthood in the 1960s and 1970s, it was to answer a call to service, he said. They were destined to help others and to spread the word of God.

Morris said many of today’s young men and women who are joining religious orders come from broken homes and dysfunctional families. Often they say they are seeking a sense of community.

“Right before this, people were really complaining” about a lack of applicants, he said. “It’s really kind of a surprise. People are changing tunes and saying, ‘At least we have bodies.’ A lot of times there’s really a tendency among people to talk about numbers.”

But the mind-set of today’s entrants into religious orders worries him. He wonders how long they will stay and what will happen if they run into some real crises, such as falling in love or realizing something about themselves that they didn’t know before--something that doesn’t jibe with their celibate lifestyle.

Miller said the tension, coming from predominantly older priests, probably was similar to the 1960s and 1970s, when elder clergy watched the revolution of Vatican II and thought it would destroy the church.

“I think it’s a healthy tension,” Miller said. “The young seminarians will make fine priests.”