AZ Central
Six years ago, Christa Parra was 21 years old, unhappy and confused.
"What should I do with my life?" was a constant question she asked herself.
Parra needed an answer, so she went to a place where she felt comfortable and welcome. She knelt down in one of the pews of her parish church, SS. Simon and Jude Cathedral in west Phoenix, to pray. "What should I do?" she asked God.
Minutes later, Sister Gabrielle Marry came sweeping down the aisle of the church near 27th and Maryland avenues. She approached the young girl, whom she didn't know, and asked, "Have you ever thought about becoming a nun?"
The question stunned the young woman.
"I was dumbfounded," says Parra, now 27. "I wanted to get married and have children."
Although she had no desire to become a nun, Parra accepted Marry's invitation to visit the Loreto sisters' convent. Eventually, Parra began taking spiritual instruction from Marry.
Little did she know that her visit to the cathedral that day would prove fateful. It started her down a path that would lead to the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Wheaton, Ill., the U.S. province house of the Loreto sisters.
This month, Parra will become the order's first novice in 10 years.
Fewer people have been entering religious life. For many, a focus on materialism has replaced a focus on faith. For young women, more opportunities in social work and education exist outside the convent. And there is the fear of a lifelong commitment.
Parra has spilled a lot of tears on her journey. Again and again, she saw signs that she was called to be a nun, but she was anguished at abandoning her dream of having a family.
A devout Catholic, Parra loved attending Mass at SS. Simon and Jude while growing up in Phoenix. Parra's mother, Cathy Parra, says that if she ever wanted to skip Mass, Christa would call around, asking for a ride to church. As a senior at Alhambra High School, where she was a cheerleader, Parra was voted "Most Likely to Become a Nun"because of her fondness for attending Mass and her gentle spirit.
Still, the title surprised her boyfriend.
"He thought 'cutest couple' would have been better," Parra says.
They dated for several years after graduation. Parra attended Grand Canyon University where she majored in communications and Spanish. When she was 21, Parra was invited to visit the Loreto order's house in Peru. Just before her departure, she became engaged to her boyfriend, though her doubts lingered.
In Peru, Parra lived in a poor village for three months, teaching English and helping the nuns. One nun took her final vows while Parra was there.
It was a huge event for the order and the woman's village.
"It was like a wedding, with music and flowers and dancing," Parra says.
One night, the nun spoke of how she had been engaged and broke it off. Parra ran to her room and cried. After a sleepless night, she broke off her engagement over the phone.
"Never did I want to hurt him," Parra says.
The number of men and women entering Roman Catholic religious life has fallen drastically over the past several decades. There were about 180,000 nuns in 1965 in the U.S., and there are about 59,000 now. In that time, the number of Catholics in the U.S. increased to 64 million from 45 million.
An increasingly materialistic society is cited as one reason for the decline in sisters.
"The whole secular culture swallows up the idea of a consecrated life," Marry says. "There are a lot of young women out there, and they're afraid to listen to what God has to say. Some young women came and didn't stay. You can't have one foot in the world."
Other reasons are complicated, says Sister Rosemary Lynch, provincial superior for the Loreto sisters in the U.S.
"Young women today have many options, even if they do wish to serve," she says. "There are more opportunities to do similar things that we do: education and social work.
"And the whole idea of a permanent commitment, that this is what you're going to do for the rest of your life, is scary to young people. That has affected married life as well as groups like ourselves."
But the trend may be changing. According to a 2008 survey by the National Religious Vocation Conference, there was a 30 percent increase this year in the number of men and women in initial formation, the period before final vows. And the more than 300 religious communities polled reported a 60 percent increase in the number of inquiries.
Lynch says several women have inquired about the Loreto sisters, whose average age is 72. "There seems to be renewed interest out there, and that's very hopeful for us."
When Parra returned from Peru, she continued her spiritual exploration but couldn't stop thinking about marriage and family. She met another man, whom she dated for two years before they broke up.
She would tell the nuns, "You can serve God as a wife."
"She would give that to me all the time," Marry says. "I didn't argue."
Two years ago, Marry sent Parra to a priest for an eight-day silent retreat. He asked Parra to spend hours talking with God and to write down the conversations. During the retreat, the priest said that her list of questions and requests to God had missed the mark.
"I said, 'What do you mean? I was praying for five hours. I was kneeling!' I was so frustrated, I cried," she says.
The priest told her that a conversation is a two-way street, so she tried again. This time, she said she heard God's voice speak within her.
"Everything was suspended in time, and all I could do was listen," Parra says.
She heard, "Trust in me."
"Once I surrendered everything and got rid of everything I dreamed of and desired and wanted, I said, 'Do with me what you will.' "
The journey to a religious vocation is purposefully long and carefully considered. In the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary order, women start with months of inquiry, followed by a time as a candidate, during which they live in an institute community but continue their previous lives. Candidacy can last two years. After that, if a woman is considered to be ready, she moves on to become a novice. She lives as a nun, taking theology classes and performing social outreach. After two years, she takes temporary vows for up to nine years. Final vows are a lifetime commitment.
"Christa is not naive about what she's doing," Lynch says. "She's had work experience and education and social experience. We're very hopeful that this is truly her calling."
Parra, who had lived with her parents her whole life, moved into the Phoenix convent last February. She cried.
Her mom went home and ate a whole box of chocolate-chip cookies. Having their only daughter move out of the house forever, forgoing a husband and children, was difficult for her parents, but Cathy Parra said she and her husband are happy that Christa now knows what to do with her life.
"Of course, there was fear, but that went out the door when she moved (into the convent)," Cathy says. "Her spirit was always so gentle. And this environment nurtures that gentle spirit."
Every morning, Parra attends 6:15 a.m. Mass, where she sees her mother and two of her brothers.
During the day, Parra worked at her full-time job as a training consultant at Wells Fargo, which she left a few weeks ago. In the evening, she would go home to the convent, where the sisters were eager to share their lives with her. "They're just so happy to talk to me about my day, and we just laugh all the time."
During this past year, Parra still grieved for the life she knew she would never have. But her sadness mixed with a growing peace that she was following the right path. "All those times I was crying, it was the Holy Spirit moving within me," she says.
Parra's best friends from childhood are supportive. "At first they thought it was the result of heartbreak, but it's not. I'm not running away from guys or anything like that."
After graduating from high school, the friends all got matching flower tattoos. Parra laughs at the memory.
"I'll probably be the only nun with a tattoo."
