1. Account for the hope that is in us (1 Pet. 3,15)
Is contagious vocational promotion really possible? What conditions are needed to awaken the desire of young people to live like such and such a religious group? Certainly, contagion exists when a person or group of people creates an atmosphere around them that makes someone want to share in that atmosphere, and, in the end, the life that these people demonstrate so transparently.

The ground that favors the growth and development of a vocation is, then, an environment where the teachings of Jesus are lived out with joy, conviction and hope, creating a space where it is possible to live in hope; this atmosphere attracts and inspires the desire to share in that same life. Here we must not forget the important role of attraction and desire in the vocational process. This process must follow a path which in the end leads to the free choice of the whole person in favor of the Lord, recognized as being able to crown his or her existence. To achieve this, declaration or affirmation is not enough: we must offer the chance to share in the experience of those who have already taken that road.

So the religious language used to present our vocation should be largely symbolic and addressed to desire and to the imagination, for language that is mainly propositional, logical and rational does little to attract and nothing to inspire. In other words, and more plainly: if we ourselves, our communities and institutions were to use the symbolic language of life which speaks to desire and to the heart, it would be possible to interest young people in choosing the consecrated life. In reality, each religious, each community or apostolic group carries a vocation which can be passed on to others if it is lived truly and fully. Every vocation is a free and mysterious gift from God but it is the quality of our life that is the visible human image of being called by the Lord, because one can only choose what one knows and what one loves.

I think that the consecrated life must ask itself in all sincerity if the atmosphere one breathes within it is able to communicate the desire to give oneself unconditionally to the Lord, the joy of living the gospel radicality and hope for the future; or if, on the contrary, there is an air of sad, gray, mediocre existences which do not make anyone want to share them. That is to say, whether we use human, down-to-earth language or whether we almost always need interpreters to make ourselves understood; if we are the good "aroma of Christ" (2 Cor. 2,15) or if we keep our perfume well hidden in a pretty alabaster flask so that no one enjoys its aroma or can be attracted by its fragrance (cf. Jn. 12,3). Perhaps the signals we send out are often more ambiguous and confused than enthusiastic and easily understandable. Could it be true that we lack enthusiasm and that we are full of criticism, that we ask more questions than we make enthusiastic statements? It is possible that the experience of "feeling our hearts burn within us", like the disciples at Emmaus in the presence of Jesus when he explained the scriptures to them, does not happen often (cf. Lk. 24,32).

I am not trying in any way to describe a particular situation, still less to imply that it is general; I am only trying to provoke calm reflection on the complex situation of the consecrated life in our existing cultural environment.

Today, the consecrated life has to be lived against the tide, in a cultural environment that tends to reduce religion to a private and personal matter and regards as ‘suspect’ any expression of joyous experience, of vision and of hope. The suspicion grows when such enthusiasm and hope are the results of our conviction and experience of the transcendent, of something or someone beyond the ‘here and now’. The consecrated life must certainly be convinced that following Jesus, in a radical lifestyle shared with others, brings the fruits of his Spirit, which are joy, happiness and hope (cf. Gal. 5,22). But declaring one’s faith in Jesus as Lord is not possible without inner conviction and express enthusiasm and such a declaration will have no effect unless it reaches the heart and the emotions.

Moreover, we run the risk that the consecrated life may assimilate elements of the modern and post-modern world without prior critical judgment, thus creating a series of ambiguous situations; over and above the prophetic, counter-cultural dimension proper to the religious charism there is often a tendency to "lower the standards" of the gospel radicality of following Jesus, in order to make it "normal" and "reasonable".

Sometimes we need to ask ourselves, with the sincerity of the rich young man in the Gospels, "what do I lack?" (Matt. 19,20). Jesus’ answer is clear: "If you want to be perfect... sell all... give it away... follow me". It is an answer we know well, but we try not to see to what extent it operates in our lives. That may be why we share the disappointment and sadness of the young man when he went away; not exactly because we are very rich, but because we do not have sufficient radicality to leave everything, because we have managed to reconcile the "service of two masters" (Matt. 6,24).