See You Next Year

A typical crowd for Christmas.

The small church I attend is almost entirely made up of elderly parishioners.  A few teenagers and children show up with their parents from time to time but it's not very  consistent.  During this year's Christmas vigil, I noticed a few females close to my age sitting in the pews.  (This is something any red-blooded male who is extremely lonely would spot right away!)  I don't recall seeing these women before and all I could think was, “I will never see them again.”

On Christmas, churches see huge increases in attendance from Catholics who rarely go to Mass.  Some might have sentimental attachments to a particular parish while others consider going to church during the holiday a time honored family tradition.  Whatever the reason, many priests use the occasion to deliver a softer sermon that's welcoming and affirming.  At my former parish, it was felt calling out lapsed Catholics would do very little to convince them to return to Mass the following Sunday.  My pastor at the time said if he could reach just one person in the pews then his uplifting sermon would have been worthwhile.

Only 17% of Catholics in the Archdiocese actually go to church on a weekly basis so it's a safe bet most of those unfamiliar faces at Christmas won't be back.  A more appropriate seasonal greeting after Mass might be, “See you next year.”  Some have said it takes courage for these lapsed Catholics to step inside a building that potentially makes them feel uncomfortable.  Judging them would be wrong because we don't know the reasons for their long absence.  However, as someone who attends Mass every week, seeing an unusually packed church at Christmas just doesn't sit right with me.

Let's say you had a garden and spent months carefully growing fruit for a homemade pie that you baked at harvest time.  How would you feel if someone just waltzed up and helped themselves to half of that pie?  Perhaps this is not the best analogy because houses of worship aren't pies but it's the regular parishioners who keep churches running with their weekly contributions of time and money.  Some volunteer to sing in the choir, make minor repairs, buy flowers, take up collections, etc.  A lot of giving goes into bringing lapsed Catholics that holiday moment.

For the regular church goer, Christmas can bring frustration especially when you have to squeeze into an already crowded pew or worse, stand for the entire Mass.  Those inoffensive sermons meant to appeal to a wider audience tend to be bland.  People unfamiliar with church sometimes chat up a storm during the Mass.  One year, a pair of teenage girls sitting behind me were so bored they spent much of the time text messaging each other.  It was incredibly distracting although many of us would gladly “suffer” the problems of an overcrowded church every week.

A few people on my hometown's Facebook group said how beautiful my former parish was and even though they had not been to Mass in years, they still considered it their spiritual home.  In today's day and age, any church can be closed due to poor attendance and financial woes.  Lapsed Catholics might find themselves with nowhere to go on Christmas if their favorite house of worship is sold off and slated for the wrecking ball.

This could happen to your favorite church if you don't support it.   Image: Tony Atkin

Investing so little time into your faith has real-world consequences.  Once or twice a year parishioners miss out on contributing to many worthy causes.  If there's a natural disaster, refugee crisis, or missionary asking for money, a second collection is usually taken up during Mass but since most Catholics stay at home, the amount of relief the needy receive is not as great as it could be.  To make matters worse, parishes don't see a dime of the increased giving on Christmas because the collection goes to fund retired priests throughout the Archdiocese.

By staying home on Sunday, lapsed Catholics also sell themselves short because their unique talents could strengthen our churches.  They understand better than anyone why people don't attend Mass regularly so perhaps their perspectives could be used create more inviting places of worship.  Drawing from a larger pool of people might help reinvigorate parishes that are stale.  (Of course, this hinges on having a pastor who is open to such ideas.)

The parable of the workers in the vineyard tells us the first can be last and the last can be first so it's important for regular parishioners to avoid a country club mentality where some think they have preferred member status.  Seeing filled pews during Christmas reminds me how empty they can be the rest of the year.

During the Christmas vigil, our priest listed several reasons why some hearts might not be filled with joy but he added that God was always looking to welcome us back.  In a bit of wishful thinking, he mentioned the regular Mass times at the end of the service.  I hope some of those unfamiliar faces at Christmas do return next week because it's sad knowing so many of my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ won't be back for a long time.