By Anne K. McBride

What prompts some Catholic college students in Atlanta to roll over on Sunday morning, squint at the clock, drag themselves out of bed, get dress, and go to Mass?

Why bother? After all, he or she is independent now. There is no religious overseer, no authoritative finger to provoke or demand.

In fact, from a distance, the life of today’s college student seems carefree and unhampered. Gone are the restrictions that plagued previous generations. But they have been replaced by other, more threatening pressures -- stiff competition for grades, jobs, and graduate school admission; hazy and unresolved sexual standards; easy accessibility to drugs, and a threatening economy.

All this makes the gathering and retention of knowledge a serious business. To some, it is a deadly business. The National Center for Health Statistics notes that the suicide rate among young people from ages 15 to 24 has more than doubled since 1960. And in USA TODAY, Robert J. Stalcup of Texas A&M, writes that one study shows an increase in the number of attempts at self-destruction. The same study also concluded that “Factory-size colleges and off-campus living breed alienation and the belief that no one cares. They (students) feel dormless and lost.”

In his detailed book, “SUICIDE,” sociologist Emile Derkheim, summarized his findings by saying that “as a rule suicide increases with knowledge,” and, “generally speaking, religion has a prophylactic effect on suicide.” He further concluded that Catholics and Jews were less likely to have an aptitude for self-destruction. So students who regularly join with others for the celebration of Mass may gain a sense of purpose and direction and be less likely to experience this fatal despair.

For those students who attend school in Atlanta -- and decide not to “sack in” on Sundays -- what is offered by the Catholic Campus Ministry for spiritual enrichment and religious guidance? Does it fill their need for sense of community and show understanding of the special concerns of students?

Three men in Atlanta have prepared the setting for the student who, despite conflicting messages, decides to attend Mass. Their ministries are funded by the archdiocese and stress this need for “someone who cares.” Because each school is different, they have tailored their ministry to fit the needs and types of groups they serve. According to the NATIONAL CATHOLIC REPORTER (NCR), they are part of a national group whose numbers are growing. They are Father Joseph Cavallo at Emory University, Brother Alan J. Thomas, O.F.M., at Georgia State University, and Father Mario DiLella, O.F.M., at Georgia Institute of Technology.

At Emory, the academic pressures are heavy. Of the almost 8,000 students, nearly 5,000 are in graduate school and about 2,900 are undergraduates. The computer shows that there are about 650 Catholics, evenly divided between graduate and undergraduate studies. Father Joe Cavallo sees about 200 of these students on a regular basis and says, “Our Sunday Mass is where you can really see that we are a community.”

The Mass, celebrated on Sundays at 10:45 in White Hall, is almost filled with students, some in jeans and flip flops, and with several faculty members and their small children. Father Joe begins by asking each person to introduce himself to someone there he doesn’t know. Students serve as lectors, lead the singing, and assist in distributing Holy Communion. The conversation afterwards during the coffee hour is the animated dialogue of friends. “Here I’m judged for myself, not my marks,” said one student. And Father Joe is “always amazed at how much time some students give to the community.

The Newman Center, across the street from the law school on North Decatur Road, is a substantial house of fading red brick. The doors on the right side of the living room open to a larger room where daily Mass is celebrated at 6 p.m. Attendance varies from five to 12. Like much of the Emory Campus in the springtime, it’s almost surrounded with tall, green-misted trees and white dogwood flowers. The bearded priest who could be a graduate student himself, is one who believes that “there’s a return to religion on campuses,” and that “a good high school experience of being a Catholic is a determining factor for those who seek out and enjoy the Center.”

Father Joe pointed out that the United Campus Ministry at Emory had agreed not to seek out students directly other than by posters, general announcements, and a presentation at orientation. This decision was reached when it was realized “the students were repelled by some of the more aggressive fundamentalist groups and by the fact that this tactic doesn’t work!”

How, then, can he let the student know what is offered by the Catholic Ministry? “Well,” said Father Joe softly, “I preached a dialogue session to the students who came regularly about the responsibility of sharing the joy of religious community -- invite others to come -- and it worked!” A panel of faculty members asked the students at orientation to consider, “Who Are You Religiously?”, and then presented to them the possibilities for spiritual life at the University. This year, the Jewish-Christian dialogue has presented four topics for discussion -- birth, maturity, marriage, and death. They have sponsored such speakers as

Rabbi Marc Tannenbaum, Reverend Martin Luther King, Sr., and Benjamin Mays, and anticipate Christopher Stendal, Yale philosopher.

At Georgia State University, many students lead a lonely life on this “concrete campus” primarily because the downtown offices and stores, the rumblings of traffic on I-75, 85, the gold dome of the capitol building, and the turmoil of Grady Hospital all frame the institution. As a member of the Franciscans who staff the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, just a few blocks away, Brother Alan J. Thomas, O.F.M., head of the Catholic Campus Ministry is no stranger to urban, collegiate stress.

“The student who participates in the Catholic student organization,” he says, “is one who knows his or her long-term goals and needs -- the need for community, support, and identity.”

Since the University is strictly a commuter’s school, there is no Sunday Mass scheduled there. Students can go to their local parish but are encouraged to attend the Shrine whenever possible. Brother Alan speaks glowingly of the Franciscan commitment “to build a community wherever we are, to share love, and to bring others back into this community.” Each Wednesday, Brother Alan readies Room 226 in the University’s Camp Student Center for one of the Franciscan priests to say Mass at 12:45 a.m. “The number attending varies,” he says, “but the week before exams we could have 30 students.” He added, “When we had a Mass for Spanish-speaking students, not many came. We discovered it was because they were trying to learn English!”

For the uninitiated, it’s bewildering to track down this room. The sign above the door reads “The Ecumenical Center” as it is shared with the Episcopalian minister. The best way to find the office, suggests Brother Alan, is to go on a campus tour.

It’s a comfortably furnished center and the first large poster reads, “All real living is meeting.” Other posters hang on the walls and a table full of literature includes a pamphlet entitled “PREGNANT (and you didn’t mean to be).” Brother Alan is there for several hours each day. A warm and pleasant man with dark, modish-styled hair and horn-rimmed glasses, he provides a meeting place, “something to identify with on campus,” a comfortable spot to have a cup of coffee at the 10 a.m. break.

There is no computer printout to give Brother Alanany idea of how many Catholics there might be among the University’s 21,000 students. The administration has interpreted the law to forbid the question of religion on the application form. So, he relies on notices in the SIGNAL, the campus newspaper, and student TV station, posters which are limited to 35 in number, a newsletter sent four times a year to members of the organization -- there are 300 Catholic members listed, including faculty and staff -- and contacting the senior class of local Catholic High Schools.

The typical University student is in his or her mid-twenties and “many hold back joining the organization in fear of additional burden on his time since he - or she - may work part-time.” Therefore, it’s difficult to schedule speakers. Next year, however, Brother Alan hopes to have a workshop featuring Dr. Victor Kramer who teaches in the English Department and is a Thomas Merton scholar. There is a retreat twice a year, planned by the students themselves, and Georgia State students join with other area Catholic college students for a retreat weekend at different camp locations around the state.

Farther north on I-75, 85, is the brick and ivy campus of Georgia Institute of Technology. The Catholic Center here on Fifth Street is in a small house on one of the few tree-lined streets. On a spring day, it is surrounded by students on foot, on bikes, and sprinting around in small sports cars. Of the 10,000 enrolled at Georgia Tech, there are 2,000 Catholics so there are four Masses on Sunday at the Student Center and one Saturday evening and all are filled to capacity. Students participate in four different folk groups, help to distribute communion, and are lectors and ushers. Weekday Masses are celebrated at the Center Chapel at 5:30 p.m. for twelve to fifteen students, the number doubling during the Penitential seasons.

Father Mario, a trim man with short, dark hair and horn-rimmed glasses, is a former Air Force Chaplain and is sure comfortable with the nine years of his ministry at Tech. He understands his flock.

“The student who attends Georgia Tech is one who is primarily interested in studies, knows he has to work hard and constantly, is conservative and traditional and approaches his church that way,” says Father Mario. He does not seek out students in any way beyond the usual orientation presentation and printed mailed invitation. “They are old enough to be away from home so they are old enough to decide to come to church. ‘I’m not your mother,’ I tell them.”

Because the students are so, scientifically oriented, Father Mario builds his homilies around the Bible and points out the need for more humanism in their perspective and the danger of becoming “robots.” They all speak the same language of math and chemistry and energy sources -- “no qualms about nuclear energy, just make it safe, no mistakes in operations!” Aside from a Friday night “beer bust,” he sees no drug problem because “they know they couldn’t stay in school and study.”

A lot happens in the house on Fifth Street -- “Open House” Friday nights, Sunday afternoon meetings, folk choir practice, a large party every quarter. Some students even study there since the noise level at the college library can often be high. Every quarter, a retreat is held at the Trappist Monastery in Conyers with one of the monks conducting the spiritual exercises. There is special concern for foreign students since 61 countries are represented at Georgia Tech.

This ministry exists for the student who takes the initial step. He knows what he wants and “he’s a rugged individualist,” according to Father Mario. Although Georgia Tech is a predominantly male institution, women are attending in greater numbers and Father Mario has a small study group discussing the role of the women in the church. There is little involvement by the faculty and staff, and 98 percent of the students involved in the Catholic Center are single.

The Catholic Campus Ministry Association (CCMA), a national organization, met in April of this year in California. According to the NATIONAL CATHOLIC REPORTER (NCR), the comments of those attending ranged from describing students who “don’t care about anything but jobs,” and “are in the depths of despair,” to “I think our country is in good hands with the type of young men and women we’re turning out.”

For students fitting any of these descriptions, the opportunity for counseling, fellowship, and spiritual growth is available at three major colleges in Atlanta through the Catholic Campus ministries.