Essay: A Jesuit priest on the value of deeper human connection

Even before Gen Z students arrived at Loyola, I discerned that traditional methods of connecting were not as effective as they once were. For example, many students no longer prayed with us at Sunday Mass. Not as many were coming to my office or classroom. I reminded myself not to take this personally. I didn’t believe that this change was an indication that people had fewer needs than they once did. Nor did I assume that I was doing (or not doing) something off-putting. Instead, I decided to change my method of operation and go where the people were.

It seemed to me that most of our university community were in coffee houses and bars, so I structured my “office hours” at a coffee house nearby. And on Mondays and Fridays during happy hour, I would sip a glass of wine or have a beer at a bar and welcome others to join me. Each academic year, I established the ritual at the same times and places. People could reserve an appointment or spontaneously stop by. The law students were clever—they quickly called my office hours in the coffee shop, “Java with the Jesuit,” and at the local bar “Vino with the Vicar.”

During one of my customary Java with the Jesuit meetings with a Loyola law student, I noticed a newly retired Quinlan School of Business professor approaching. He was limping, and I remembered that he was facing intensive physical therapy after two knee replacements. He approached our table and excused himself for interrupting our conversation. Then he looked me squarely in the eye and said, “Getting old sucks.” I said, “Well, there are a couple redeeming qualities.” With playful disgust, he shook his head and turned around to get his coffee. After adding his cream and sugar, he came back to our table. He excused himself once again and said, “Name one.” I smiled. He knew me well enough to know I wouldn’t offer a prosaic “when life gives you lemons” response to someone in pain.

We often talk about relationships as if they are static entities. Not true. Relationships are dynamic, meaning that they are always moving. We are growing closer and the relationship is deepening, or the relationship is waning. And we must ask ourselves, how invested am I in relationships with God, self, and others? I looked at the law student and said, “This is not a shot at young adults, but there is no way you can know what it is like to have a friend—not a Facebook friend, not a Twitter friend—but a friend in the flesh for 30, 40, or 50 years.” I was referring to the kind of deep connection you feel with a person you can share your embarrassments with, who gives you permission to feel out of control; that friend who knows your experience in any one moment is only a fraction of your whole story and the best gift they can give you is their whole-hearted acceptance of your vulnerability.

The professor, who has an engaging sense of humor, left us with his wit: “Well, I never was very wise anyway.” Far from feeling annoyed at the interruption, the law student at the table said, “I am so glad that I was here to observe that interaction.”

This story is emblematic of many. Over the years, I’ve become increasingly concerned about young adults’ growing interest in how things look on the surface. Increasingly, they expect to look good on TikTok, Instagram, or the latest social media platform. No wonder FOMO (fear of missing out) emerges. Among young people, there seems to be a growing anxiety to keep up with their peers, to accelerate in their personal relationships and careers, with less concern about how to build and deepen relationships over time. In this particular exchange, I think the student felt a sense of reassurance knowing deep, enduring connection was still possible.

My knowledge of this institution and its leaders runs deep. Loyola’s consistent outreach to students, its adaptability to the changing times, its commitment to cura personalis (care for the whole person) and cura apostolica (care for the institution) permeates the place and the people throughout the community. Over the decades, I have enjoyed thoughtful discussions with collaborators who broadened my perspectives and strengthened my faith. However, some of my most memorable connections have been forged in fleeting exchanges with students.

Loyola fosters quality relationships with God, self, and others, which inspires me and many others to continue investing time, energy, and talent. Choices have consequences. What I’ve noticed over time is that choosing to participate in this kind of dynamic Loyola community shapes the lives we live.

Father T. Jerome “Jerry” Overbeck, S.J., is a senior chaplain and professor who has worked at Loyola University Chicago since 1976. This essay is an excerpt from his book, A Reflection on My Journey as a Jesuit Priest.