In these days of
sex-scandal fatigue, declining numbers, fractured fellowship and polarized
politics it is tempting to wallow in discouragement. These are hard times. We long for the “good old days.”
But there is another
view. As I observe my 40th anniversary in parish work (I began at St. Mary’s in Laurel, Maryland in the
summer of 1972) I prefer to think of our present situation as a short-term
stumbling block on the long-term path of Catholic renewal.
As someone who lived
through Vatican II, I see our Church in the light of the Council’s call for a “Second
Pentecost” to give new life and vitality to our ancient tradition.
But while Vatican II’s
four years were my four high school years, my childhood was spent in an earlier
version of Catholicism. So my
perspective filters through a life lived in three parts: (1) a pre-council
childhood, (2) a conciliar adolescence, and (3) a post-council adulthood
spent working in the Church. From this
vantage point, I see many ways the Church now is dramatically better off.
1. Catholic Identity. Gone are the
days when Catholicism shaped our identity mainly by giving us rules to
follow. Nowadays everyone I work with
knows that being “Catholic” means to embrace a personal faith descended from 20
centuries of believers and shared with 100s of millions worldwide. By now Catholics cannot remember the days
when “personal faith” was an alien concept among Catholics. Yes, the “good old days” had its share of
“devout” Catholics--but for most the “Catholic faith” was merely a set of
propositions one accepted and rules one obeyed.
The idea that God is love, and we are to be disciples of His incarnate
Son, too often got lost in the shopping list of Catholic Do’s and Don’ts. Those days are gone, and good riddance.
2. Liturgy. Gone too are the days of unheard mumbled prayers and
passive people in the pews. Gone are
full pews at Communion time (only 15% of Mass-goers received communion in the
1950s), rosaries at Mass, the “elites” who possessed their own missals and the
skill to navigate among their many multicolored bookmark-ribbons.
Now people come to Mass
for the right reason - - the Eucharist itself.
They participate in its celebration: hearing the readings, responding to
the priest, praying together the Kyrie and Gloria and Psalms and Sanctus and
the Our Father, greeting each other in peace, and coming forward en masse to receive Communion.
3. Sacramental life. I still remember when Baptism
meant merely “washing original sin from the soul” of babies (and mothers were
excluded), when Confirmation made “soldiers of Christ” of kids too old for
Christian initiation but too young to take any mature responsibility. I remember when funerals were morbid black
reminders of death’s grip and God’s wrath.
I remember when the Eucharist was merely an annual duty-call for most
Catholics.
Today our sacramental
system, while far from perfect, has been restored to firmer foundations. Baptism makes us members of the Body of
Christ, and its fullest form is the restored Baptism of adult catechumens at
the Easter Vigil. Confirmation now comes
between Baptism and First Communion, or else is conferred on youth old enough
to seriously renew their own baptismal vows.
Funerals are now bright with color, alleluias, the Paschal Candle, and
the hope of Resurrection. And the
Eucharist is once again the center of all, the way we come together as one body. Even Reconciliation, though
underutilized, is now humane rather than mechanical, healing without being
clinical.
4. The Bible. Many of us remember when “Bible” referred
merely to that big coffee table book where families recorded baptisms and
weddings. But few Catholics remember
that we never heard the Old Testament or the letters of Paul at Church. Only the Gospel was read aloud and in
English. Now nearly the entire body of
the Old and New Testaments is proclaimed aloud at Mass over a three year
cycle. And we’ve fairly well
dispensed with the old-time “sermons” on whatever topic crossed Father’s mind,
in favor of genuine homilies that unpack, interpret, and apply the scripture
readings for the congregation.
Moreover Bible study has
become part of many adult education programs and faith-sharing groups, and is
built into every single school-age religious education curriculum. So the Bible is now at the center of
Catholic life in a way unknown to our grandparents.
5. The Laity.
“Laity” means “people,” and the day is long gone when they were content to
“pray, pay, and obey.” For 40 years or more, lay volunteers have assumed
leadership in ministry as lectors, Eucharistic ministers, in baptismal and
marriage preparation, in the RCIA, and as parish councilors and small group
leaders. And since 2005, lay
professionals now make up the majority of parish staffs.
Laypeople are no longer
helpless children in the church, totally dependent on “Father” to care for
them. Such infantile docility enabled
the cover-up of sexual abuse for decades, but Vatican II’s call for an “adult”
laity finally doomed clergy corruption.
The Church of silence is gone for good.
6. The Workforce. Gone are the days when parishes
were run by a drill-squad of priests, alike in uniforms, training, tasks, and
lifestyle. Now parish leadership
resembles a ball-club: role players with distinct jobs, different training, and
specialized skills. Before my arrival,
the St. Mary’s staff consisted of three priests. Today St. Mary’s lists more than 12 staff
people on its website. Typically, large parish staffs are now loaded with
laypeople. Instead of marching in lockstep, they must work like a team--which
means their diverse gifts build up the Body of Christ, just as St. Paul
described, in a way the old workforce never did.
8. Collaboration. John-Paul II said “Collaboration
is the act proper to solidarity,” and our unity as Church today is manifested
by our deep commitment to a collegial approach at all levels. Following the model of Vatican II itself, we
now see Catholic life shaped by gatherings of the US Bishops, diocesan
councils, parish pastoral and finance councils and a myriad of parish
committees and small groups.
I used to joke that
Vatican II gave us lots of documents, lots of changes, and lots of
meetings--and for the last 30 years I’ve made my livelihood going to those
meetings. The Church’s business no longer
follows the Charles Lindbergh “flying solo” model, but instead uses the model Saint Paul
had in mind when he addressed his letters to “My Co-workers.”
9. Ecumenism. Who still remembers the “good old days” when
Catholics were prohibited from any dealings with Protestant churches? As teenagers, my older sisters were even kept
from YWCA dances because the Y was a “Protestant” organization. For my parents, Catholics were “devout” but Protestants
were always “staunch.”
Over the last 40 to 50
years the landscape has completely changed.
We still have differences with our separated Christian brothers and sisters,
but we no longer fear “the other” or shun them.
Indeed, many progressive Catholics now find they share much perspective
with progressive Protestants, just as many conservative Catholics feel allied
to conservative Protestants. Such
conversations across the ecumenical boundaries were unthinkable 50 years ago,
but a commonplace now--and that has revised hope for a future when Christians
will again be united.
10. The End of Quarantine. At all levels,
Catholicism has ditched its old isolationist posture in favor of dialogue with
the outside world. That world remains
toxic in many ways, but rather than hide away from fear of infection our Church
now opts for immunizing its people with a faith strong enough to engage those
of others faiths and even those of no faith.
So our popes travel the world and address the UN, our bishops blog and issue
pastoral letters on public policy and voter education, our schools teach a
broad range of students from different backgrounds, and even our liturgies
embrace facets of contemporary culture (folk music, photography, dance) that enrich our life as Catholics,
living a global faith in the global world.
-----
During my high school
years, as the Council progressed, my father once speculated on the outcome: “What
if priests get just as good at mumbling English as they ever were at mumbling
Latin?” The operative word, of course, was “mumble”--and he was right in part. We still mumble along, trying to perfect
renewal and sometimes stumbling on an obstacle in our path. None of the 10 points above is perfectly realized.
They are works in progress.
But there is no doubting
this: these 10 points have already restored an authentic practice of our ancient
tradition that seemed impossible 50 years ago. They have made us a better
Church.
© Bernard F. Swain PhD 2012
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