As pastor of a parish in South Carolina, I am witnessing a remarkable trend: Almost every week I receive a call, email or visit from at least one young man interested in learning more about the Catholic religion. They are older teenagers and both single and married men in their 20s and early 30s. 

So many of them have joined our OCIA class that our parish’s director of faith formation has had to run an extra course in the summer. Here in the Bible Belt, many of the inquirers are exploring historic Christianity from a background of contemporary evangelicalism.

Most of them are biblically literate and theologically thoughtful. The old anti-Catholicism in the South, if not dead, is at least dormant. My inquirers express an interest in liturgical worship and are curious about the Catholic religion. Reading the Apostolic Fathers has led them to explore the historic churches, and after dipping their toe into Anglicanism and Lutheranism and finding those denominations either progressive or schismatic, they continue their journey to Catholicism.

We’re glad to welcome them, and as a former evangelical Protestant and graduate of Bob Jones University and the Church of England, I can help them navigate the sometimes-chilly waters of the Tiber River that leads to Catholicism. 

I initially considered the trend we are witnessing to be a local phenomenon due to our location, my background, and the attractive blend of traditional worship, strong preaching and a vibrant youthful congregation at Our Lady of the Rosary in Greenville. Then I discovered some writings indicating that what we are experiencing in our parish is part of a larger trend. Put simply, more young men in America today are religious than young women.

In an article for Christianity Today entitled “With Gen Z, Women Are No Longer More Religious Than Men,” Ryan Burge reports that among the younger generations, more women than men decline religious affiliation. Stated in positive terms, a survey from 2021 shows more men than women in the 20-40 age bracket identify as religious.

The conventional wisdom has long been that women are more religious than men, and the statistics among older Americans confirm it. In the older age groups, more men are “nones” (no religious affiliation) than women.

Writing in 2022, Burge reports:

“As recently as last year, the religion gender gap has persisted among older Americans. Survey data from October 2021 found that among those born in 1950, about a quarter of men identified as atheist, agnostic, or nothing in particular, compared to just 20 percent of women of the same age. That same five-point gap is evident among those born in 1960 and 1970 as well.”

“For millennials and Generation Z, it’s a different story. Among those born in 1980, the gap begins to narrow to about two percentage points. By 1990, the gap disappears, and with those born in 2000 or later, women are clearly more likely to be nones than men.”

“Among 18- to 25-year-olds, 49 percent of women are nones, compared to just 46 percent of men.”

Is this a racial or ethnic phenomenon? Burge’s statistics reveal that among 18- to 25-year-olds there’s not much difference between male and female nones among Black, Asian and other ethnic groups, but among whites, women are more likely to say they are nones. College-educated women are slightly more likely to decline religious affiliation, but among those who are working toward a college degree, women are much more likely to be nonreligious than their male peers.

What accounts for the surge of young men being open to religion? 

Pundits point to various social trends. In the recent presidential election, young men rejected Kamala Harris’ fuzzy, feminine message — opting for Trump’s manly message. Many young men find Jordan Peterson’s solid, intellectual, commonsense worldview an attractive antidote to the wild world of woke ideologies. Within the specifically religious communities, local men’s groups, conferences, retreats and books on modern masculinity have flourished over the last few decades, and their influence now seems to be bearing fruit.

Their influence has grown as a rebound from decades of a cultural crisis in masculinity. The sexual revolution, with its ugly sisters feminism and homosexualism, has undermined masculine confidence. Accused of “toxic masculinity” and pressured to become “metrosexual,” many young men have felt marginalized and stigmatized merely for being male. 

Divorce, absent and deadbeat dads, the disintegration of traditional sources for male mentoring like the Boy Scouts, and a range of attacks on patriarchal models and traditional gender roles have pushed young men into a literal no-man’s land. 

Pendulums swing back, and the rise of religiosity among young men is part of the larger trend of male positivity. That religion is part of this trend is significant because the swing back might have taken a much more toxic form: young men espousing an aggressive shallow, muscular form of machismo. That so many are searching for religious meaning shows that the new masculinity is not only strong, but also sensitive. It is brainy and brawny — praying, not preying.

What does all this mean for the future of the Catholic Church? We should listen to what the young men themselves are saying, both by their words and their works. 

Firstly, they are not impressed with the beige Catholicism of the American suburbs. Lukewarm religion? They spit it out. They are drawn to the Benedictines at Clear Creek Abbey in Oklahoma or the Monks of Norcia, where the liturgy and life is in Latin and is unashamedly traditional. They are drawn to the strong intellectual tradition of the Dominicans, the vibrant mendicant life of the Franciscan Friars of the Renewal, and the parish life of traditional Catholic parishes with large families, classical schools and dynamic orthodoxy.

Every indicator is that the young men in our seminaries are rejecting the “pink palaces” and “lavender ladies” that typified too much of the Catholic clergy of the ’70s and ’80s. They are also turning away from rainbow politics and ideologies that have poisoned and weakened so much of the Catholic Church over the last 30 years and are espousing traditional liturgy, spirituality and discipline.

What might this newly strengthened Catholic backbone signal about the wider historical context? My own opinion is that it means we have definitely exited the 20th century. This new generation faces enormous challenges: technology that is advancing at a bewilderingly breakneck pace, an ever smaller world poised on the brink of geopolitical and environmental crisis, a Church that is mired in corruption, doctrinal ambiguity and financial mismanagement, and a society that seems to be on the “edge of a grimpen where there is no firm foothold.”

The answer many are finding is a Church that speaks with a universal and reliable voice of authority, the voice that is universal both geographically and historically. In other words: It reaches around the globe and echoes through 2,000 years. The young men who are turning to religion understand that on such a foundation one can build a secure and solid future. In the midst of tempestuous times, they can build their house on the solid rock that is Peter.

 

Father Dwight Longenecker is the author of The Way of the Wilderness Warrior (Sophia Press) and Listen My Son — St. Benedict for Fathers. Read his blog, browse his books and be in touch at DwightLongenecker.com.