When junior Drew Mulcahy first joined Bethel University’s Catholic Student Association (CSA) in fall 2024, around four people attended the meetings each week. There were 12 members in the GroupMe.
A little over a year later, at the CSA meeting in BAC 332 Nov. 21, 2025, three students had to stand because there weren’t enough chairs. About 20 people attend meetings each week, and there are now 74 members in the CSA GroupMe. News about the group has spread through word of mouth and posters around campus.
“Every week, more and more people are coming,” sophomore CSA member Erica Hildebrandt said. “It’s been a really great way to make friends and connect on a spiritual level. I love every single one of them.”
Facilities management workers, a Bethel security officer, football players and chemistry majors all crowd into the classroom during community time every Friday for CSA. They start the meeting by going around the room saying their names and answering an icebreaker question — What’s your high from the week? What’s one thing you love about the church?
From there, meeting discussions range from the papacy, the sacraments and the Eucharist to asking the saints to pray for you. At the beginning of the school year, the group made a list of topics that people wanted to talk about, and now they choose a different theme to discuss each week.
Facilities management worker Barbara Josephs is the CSA staff adviser for the group and often brings the students gifts such as handmade rosaries and prayer guides.
“She’s like a saint to us,” CSA member Carter Will said. “She loves all of us so much and is always making sure we have everything we need.”

Two years ago, Hildebrandt went to St. Odilia Catholic Church in Shoreview for confession and ran into former Bethel student David Oolman. She told him that it was hard to find other Catholic people on campus to relate to, and he invited her to CSA.
“The beginning of this year, I just really felt it on my heart from God to go to the meeting,” she said. “So far, it’s been one of the best communities I’ve been part of at Bethel. It is so welcoming.”
Last April, Hildebrandt explored being an evangelical. She visited a few different churches, including The North Church and EVERYDAY, with some friends. The singing was beautiful, the messages were great and the community seemed strong. But Hildebrandt said the service just didn’t feel right without the Eucharist.
“God just kind of put the hammer on the nail of my faith and was like, ‘No, [Catholicism] is where you belong,’” she said. “It really just hit me.”
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Mulcahy grew up going to mass on Sundays, but during his first semester of freshman year at St. John’s University, he began to question what he had grown up believing. After researching theology, he considered himself a Calvinist. Mulcahy decided to leave St. John’s and tour Bethel since a few of his friends already attended there.
“I went on tour here. And I was like, Wow, this place is on fire for Jesus, which is absolutely true,” he said. “And I was like […] I need that. That’ll fix me, that’s what’s gonna fill the void in my heart right now. And, honestly, it did for a little bit.”
But by the end of Mulcahy’s freshman year at Bethel, he felt something wasn’t right. The evangelical Salt events and Vespers services were too feeling-based for him. Why do we have to sing the bridge seven times at Vespers? Why do we have to sell Crumbl cookies to get people to come worship Jesus?
The summer after his freshman year, he decided to return to Catholicism.
“From that day on, I never looked back,” Mulcahy said. “It’s what I know, and what I’ve grown to love.”
Before his sophomore year, Mulcahy prayed, “Lord, make me bold this semester.” That fall, he joined CSA. Now, he tries to spark conversations by outwardly expressing his Catholic faith, such as playing Latin chants in the car or making the sign of the cross before praying in the dining center.
“The first couple times I did, I was like, ‘Oh gosh, what are people going to think of me?’” Mulcahy said. “And as I do it now, it’s like, ‘Okay, Lord, I’m doing this because I want to be a witness to you.’”
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(Bella Haveman)
Although CSA has more than tripled in size, as a minority group at Bethel, Catholic students said they still receive a wide variety of reactions from Protestant students.
“The nice comments are great,” Hildebrandt said. “Others are, ‘No, you’re committing idolatry, you’re a heretic. You don’t know who the real Christ is.’ So it kind of depends.”
They usually get a lot of questions. Why do you ask the saints to pray for you? Why do you go to confession? Why do you believe the Eucharist is the actual presence of Christ? But these conversations motivate them to make sure they’re confident in their own theology.
“I think us as Catholics have done a good job at pushing Protestants in understanding why they believe things,” Mulcahy said. “Like, ‘Hey, you don’t necessarily know why you believe things. Shouldn’t that scare you?”
CSA meetings provide a place for students to talk through these issues together, ask questions about Catholicism and learn from each other.
“I don’t view being a Catholic [at Bethel] as a burden of just, like, ‘Man, this stinks, I’m gonna get questions about things,’” Will said. “I view it as an opportunity for me to grow in my faith and better understand what I believe.”
Mulcahy, Will and Hildebrandt said they want people to know that CSA meetings aren’t just for Catholics — they’re for anyone who is curious about Catholicism. Mulcahy is an RA in Lissner, and sometimes his residents ask questions about his faith.
“I’m like, ‘Dude, just come to CSA. Come hang out with us,” he said. “We’re not gonna condemn you for what you believe. But if you’re genuinely curious, come see what we’re about.”
At the end of each CSA meeting, the group members pray a decade of the rosary together. They leave the classroom door open for other students to hear.
























