There was a party at the convent.
One break dancer who introduced himself as the Wizard was doing backflips. Another was spinning on his back. There were spotlights, a rapper, two cameramen and a Chevy lowrider with a sound system in the trunk and the bass turned up.
In the middle of it all were Sister Marizele Rego and Sister Marisa Neves — Brazil’s sudden star nuns — and their cluster of backup dancers in habits, crosses and veils.
The nuns were recording the music video for their new song, “Vocation,” which had become a hit since Sister Marizele sang the catchy hook and beatboxed as Sister Marisa danced in sync on a Brazilian Catholic television show three weeks earlier.
The resulting clip rocketed around the world, racking up tens of millions of views. There were memes, imitations and performances on late-night television. On ABC’s “The View,” Whoopi Goldberg called the nuns a “real-life ‘Sister Act.’”
Now they were lip-syncing in the courtyard of their cloister, trying to extend their 15 minutes of fame with a music video they released on Friday. God had sent them viral to draw more young people to the church, they said, and they were trying to carry out his mission.
“Why did something so simple and spontaneous take on such a huge scale?” said Sister Marizele, a singing nun who had already attracted 100,000 Instagram followers before becoming a global sensation. “Because the Holy Spirit wants to touch people’s hearts.”
“But besides the Holy Spirit,” she added, “there’s also the algorithm.”
Sister Marizele, 46, and Sister Marisa, 41, are part of a wider movement in the Catholic Church to let go, loosen up and meet younger audiences where they are — online.
In Brazil, the world’s largest Catholic nation, the church has been hemorrhaging devotees for years. Less than 57 percent of the country of 200 million now identifies as Catholic, down from 83 percent 30 years ago, according to government data released this month.
To stop the bleeding, Catholic influencers, pop stars and rock bands are stepping in. Some Brazilian priests — muscular, handsome and in tune — have together attracted tens of millions of Instagram followers. Among them is the Rev. Marcelo Rossi, who has become one of Brazil’s best-selling musical acts ever. And recently, Catholic D.J.s have begun playing electronic music at events nicknamed “Catholic raves,” including at Rio de Janeiro’s Christ the Redeemer in January.
The push is an extension of the Catholic charismatic renewal movement and other groups that for decades have sought to make the church more accessible and engaging — and are now going digital. Next month, the Vatican is backing new events in Rome to gather Catholic online influencers and to award Catholic music acts. Some have called the awards the Catholic Grammys.
Yet, for a few days last month, perhaps only the new pope was getting more attention than Sisters Marizele and Marisa.
The two nuns are from the Sisters of the Copious Redemption, a 35-year-old congregation in southern Brazil of about 80 nuns and 25 religious brothers that focuses on rehabilitating young drug addicts, often using music and art to do it.
Copious Redemption has long bred a relatively laid back and artistic vibe. The founder, a Redemptionist priest, was a prolific painter. Another nun, Sister Inez Carvalho, had her own brief run with fame as a rapper, releasing an album in the 1990s.
This month, a Copious Redemption convent in southern Brazil was full of laughter, and much of it was coming from Sisters Marizele and Marisa. “Do you have life insurance?” Sister Marizele asked when getting behind the wheel of a car. When the car sped over a hill — the nuns were late for Mass — Sister Marisa shrieked in joy as if she were on a roller coaster.
Both nuns were born to corn and soybean farmers in the agricultural state of Paraná, and both came of age in houses full of music.
Sister Marisa said she and many of her 10 siblings would stop work in the fields and start to dance whenever one brother put on music. “Anything that could be danced to,” she said. After entering the convent at 23, she continued to pursue dance, taking classes in hip-hop and break dancing. She later got a gig on Catholic television, sometimes reporting from events, and other times dancing on air with priests.
Sister Marizele says she comes from a long line of musicians. Her grandfather made guitars and her aunts sang on the radio. She became a nun at 25 after she said a divine miracle saved her mother from cancer. She then sang regularly at religious retreats, eventually recording a gospel album with fellow nuns.
The two nuns met in 2007, and the synergy was quickly clear. “If you just start a beat, she starts to dance,” Sister Marizele said of Sister Marisa.
Sister Marizele said she taught herself how to beatbox, creating beats for other nuns as they sang. “I just started making rhythms with my mouth,” she said. “I didn’t even know it was called beatboxing.”
Later, they both realized beatboxing and hip-hop dance were tools to connect with young women at the Copious Redemption rehab centers. Many came off the street and had little in common with the nuns. “It was an instrument to become closer and break down barriers,” Sister Marizele said.
That charisma prompted the congregation to select Sisters Marizele and Marisa to recruit new nuns at a time when far fewer women are choosing a life in the convent. In the United States, for instance, the number of nuns has fallen by roughly half over the past 20 years, to about 36,000, according to the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate, a nonprofit that studies the church. The number of priests has dropped 18 percent over that period, to 34,000.
On May 20, Sisters Marizele and Marisa went on a Catholic talk show to promote a retreat to attract new nuns. On the show, Sister Marizele began to sing, “Vocation,” a song her congregation had written years ago about God’s calling to serve. But she had added a new hook: “Voc-a-çao, oh, ohh.”
As Sister Marizele sang, Sister Marisa said she couldn’t help but dance. They rose from their seats, and Sister Marizele began to beatbox. Behind the cameras, the show’s director urged the deacon who had been interviewing them to join in, according to Sister Marisa, who could hear the director through an earpiece. He quickly stepped into the rhythm, following Sister Marisa’s moves in lock step.
That moment, distilled into a 30-second video clip, was internet gold. On TikTok alone, it has been viewed more than 34 million times, according to Tubular, a social media data firm. Interview requests quickly arrived from around the world.
Back at the convent, senior nuns spotted opportunity. Sister Daniely Duarte Santos, who runs the congregation’s communication office, called a colleague back from vacation, and they began posting repeatedly to social networks to capitalize on the attention. Within days, more than 50 women had reached out about becoming nuns; they typically recruit only a handful a year.
The nuns contacted a local D.J. to create an actual track of “Vocation,” and, in between media interviews, Sister Marizele recorded the vocals. The resulting track, with bass and synthesizers, is “techno-pop,” Sister Marizele said. It quickly shot up Brazil’s Catholic music rankings on Spotify.
Sisters Marizele and Marisa made the rounds on television, beatboxing and repeating the dance steps at each stop. They recorded the music video, directed by Sister Daniely, with a headset over her veil. And on the street, fans have been stopping them for selfies.
“We ask them for one Hail Mary per photo,” Sister Marizele said.
Flávia Milhorance contributed reporting.
Jack Nicas is the Brazil bureau chief for The Times, leading coverage of much of South America.
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