Why the religious life?

Some may wonder, “Why religious life? Can’t you do in the course of your current daily life what you’ll be doing with the sisters?”

It’s a good question, and one that’s worth answering, especially in a world that places a lot of emphasis on what a person does, that values people based on their ability to contribute to society.

The short answer is I chose the religious life because it was the answer to the restlessness, and no, some sort of volunteerism or social activism added with a regular personal prayer life all maintained in the course of my existing life wouldn’t have equaled an answer to the restlessness.

But, of course, there’s more to it.

I’m choosing the religious life because part of answering the restlessness was making a commitment. A life commitment. Sure, I could do that by getting married and taking seriously the vow to love and cherish my spouse till death do us part. But for me, the idea of marriage and a family was a restricting one.

I have been blessed to have beautiful and real examples of what makes a good and lasting marriage – in my parents and in many friends I’ve watched build their families over the last decade. Those couples and their families inspire me. The way they support each other, the way they’re raising their children, the way they witness to and live out their beliefs. I am in awe of them.

But every time I sit in a room full of young families and watch them in action and listen to their stories, I’m haunted by the thought, “But I want more.” A family of my own just isn’t enough for me! I know individual families that have done incredible things, and made huge impacts in the lives of those around them. But in my heart I knew I’d never be satisfied with that narrow sphere of influence.

I’ve spent the last four years working for a religious order, and have seen up-close the impact these men have in the lives of those they serve. Many of them have connections with people that go back 40 years. They are members of dozens of families, and they’ve impacted thousands of lives. Those in religious life will likely never know the extent of the impact they have until we all, God-willing, get to heaven. But that’s one of the things that attracted me to this life – the ability to impact the world, albeit in a quiet way. The ability to touch the world and leave behind an eternal fingerprint.

In a world with so much noise and opinions and information overload, I’m choosing religious life because I happen to believe strongly in something Pope Paul VI said in 1975. Addressing members of the Vatican’s Council for Laity, he said, “Modern man listens more willingly to witnesses than to teachers, and if he does listen to teachers, it is because they are witnesses.” Yes, it’s totally possible to be a witness as a lay person. But as a member of a religious community, especially one that wears distinctive clothing, I hope to be one of those witnesses the pope talked about. In a world where images are so powerful (have you noticed the amount of photos in your Facebook feed lately?), the sight of a woman in a habit, standing out in a crowd, speaks louder than anything that might come out of her mouth.

Those are only two of the underlying reasons for this choice, for my saying “yes” to this invitation. And that’s really what it is in the end. This isn’t about a career move. I’m not entering the convent because I got tired of my job or my line of work or because I was lonely because I wasn’t married or because I was somehow tired of my life.

No. This is an invitation to a radically different life, and it’s not for everyone. But it’s a life that spoke to my heart at its deepest level. That small whisper that said, “come and see.” A vocation isn’t something you decide you’re going to have and then make it happen. It’s a gift. And, like any gift, you’re free to accept it or not. But there’s no re-gifting allowed here. So this gift is really special, in fact it’s tailor-made for those to whom it’s presented. There’s zero chance that you’re NOT going to like it, a lot. And there’s also no way that you won’t ultimately find your deepest happiness in accepting it.

I’m still at the beginning of this journey, but I can already attest to the truth of that last line.