If you search many of the blogs and articles about single Catholics you'll probably encounter comments from a reader named Larry Bud who sometimes goes by Uncle Fester. After reading a piece from U.S. Catholic entitled Flying solo: Life as a single Catholic, I decided to post a link to Long Lost Black Sheep just to let people know they weren't alone. From there, Larry Bud found my blog and decided to comment on a semi-regular basis. While I welcomed the discussion, he seemed very abrasive. After checking out his comments on other sites, some readers came to this conclusion too. It wasn't so much what Larry Bud said but how he said it and if his remarks rubbed people the wrong way, he felt it was their problem. When challenged, he tended to cut the debate short by bowing out of the discussion. We had gone back and forth several times until he decided to stop commenting on my blog altogether.
Larry Bud once suggested I read his comments from other blogs so he wouldn't have to repeat himself. What I found was one theory repeated over and over again like a broken record. According to him, the Catholic Church was in decline because parishes no longer served as social networks where parishioners felt they were part of a community. He said mixers, dances, carnivals and other gatherings gave singles an opportunity to meet each other without the pressure of a narrowly-focused singles ministry that was doomed to fail. He also stated your parents and grandparents likely met each other at these parish-wide gatherings which according to him, fell out of favor sometime in the 1980s. Perhaps there is some truth to Larry Bud's hypothesis but an experience at my former parish last month leads me to believe there's more to it than that.
St. Mary Star of the Sea in Beverly hosted a free “jazz brunch” after the 10:45 AM Mass and when I told a friend about it, he wanted to go. Apparently it was something of a Mardi Gras celebration. At best, the gathering would feature breakfast foods like pancakes and eggs along with actual jazz musicians. At worst, there would be coffee and donuts with the “jazz” performed by old white guys from the parish.
We arrived at the church's function hall early so Mass was still going on upstairs. A few volunteers were setting up the food which consisted of mini subs, cookies and pastries. I think they forgot the “b” in brunch stood for breakfast. On the tables were Mardi Gras beads and in one corner were items for a silent auction. People started to trickle in after Mass but only a small percentage of the congregation actually attended. My friend and I sat at a smaller table by ourselves but almost immediately, an elderly lady sat right next to us. She chatted up a storm and occasionally gave me pats on the arm and shoulder. Argh! The “jazz” band were indeed old white guys from the parish who played dixieland.
Almost all of the attendees were elderly or families. When a handful of people my age arrived, they sat by themselves and left after about twenty minutes. One woman from this group used to run our parish's young adult ministry several years ago and was fully aware of my struggles as a Catholic single. Not once did she say hi or introduce me to her friends. Am I really that invisible? In fact, no one from St. Mary's wondered why my mother and I had stopped attending Mass here. Therein lies the flaw in Larry Bud's theory. Parish-wide events don't automatically create social networks or a sense of community. St. Mary's has had many all-inclusive gatherings over the years but when singles like me attend, we still feel disconnected because we just can't find what we're looking for.
Larry Bud is vehemently against singles ministries and matchmaking events because he feels they don't work. I think the reason they come up short is the same reason why all-inclusive parish gatherings seem so lame nowadays. There just aren't enough singles or younger people attending Mass in the first place. Society has become more skeptical and spiritually lazy so churches cannot count on a large number of worshipers to be active in parish life anymore. This could explain why those all-inclusive gatherings have dropped off in the past few decades. (Perhaps the same handful of volunteers who set up these events get tired of having to do all the work.)
There's nothing inherently wrong with ministries that target certain segments of the population. An elderly widow will have very different spiritual needs than a young couple starting a family. Several years ago, the Archdiocese of Boston held a regional gathering for young adults that attracted singles from many different parishes. Had the event featured something more than prayers and lectures, I think it could have done wonders to bring those seeking marriage together.
If you can't find your fellow Catholic singles at Mass, chances are you won't be able to find them at a hokey parish function inundated with kids and the elderly. My mother had to look beyond her church to find a spouse because she just wasn't compatible with any of the Catholic men in the neighborhood. This is what can happen when we limit the dating pool to the local level. My hometown is filled with far too many small-minded people so even if parish activities at St. Mary's were well-attended by every age group, it's doubtful there would be anyone there for me.
It's amazing how drastically your view of something can change over the years. Looking back to when I was a small child, I loved the elderly parishioners at St. John the Evangelist. It didn't matter how wrinkled or gray they were. I thought these people had a grandfatherly or grandmotherly aura about them and some even radiated a form of charisma that children were inexplicably drawn to. One elderly usher liked wearing turtlenecks and tinted glasses with the church's standard issue red blazer and I thought he was just plain cool. When it came time for everyone to shake hands, I tired to reach as many people as I could and loved it. Young, old, male or female. It didn't matter. I really wanted to shake your hand.
As I got a bit older, this innocence waned. I think young people bring to the table a passion that's genuine and pure but often it lacks a certain amount of tact that comes with age. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, though. During one altar boy training session, Fr. Kiley urged us to do our best because if we made the slightest mistake in our duties, he would hear about it at the end of Mass. You see, there was a group of old ladies sitting in the front pews who critiqued our performance on the altar. My immediately reaction was to ask Father why these parishioners were paying all this attention to us and not the Mass itself. I saw a distasteful complacency in the front pew peanut gallery and wasn't afraid to say so. Now my remark could have been put more diplomatically but at its heart was a concern some parishioners were missing the true meaning of the Mass.
When you think about the early years of St. John the Evangelist in the 1950s, it had to be about passion. This group of people decided to be part of a new parish in a city that was already home to two Catholic churches. For over a year, they met in the basement of a veterans post to worship but eventually this new parish built what was then a very modern complex that not only housed a church but a school and convent as well. I'm guessing these people had to strongly believe in what they were doing and put their money, time and energy where their mouths were all in an effort to spread the Gospel, educate young minds and form a community of faith.
In the 1950s there seemed to be a spiritual confidence within the Church where bold and creative ideas emerged for propagating the faith like the establishment of chapels inside shopping malls in order to reach people in their new marketplaces. During my time at St. John's some thirty years later, I just didn't see much of this remarkable passion. As I was struggling with my faith, the old people around me seemed to be content, static and stale. For many, going to church was simply part of a long-held Sunday morning routine where pews were "reserved" and a mere dollar in the collection plate was good enough even for the parishioners who could afford much more. After Mass activities included gossiping over coffee and donuts but never trying to carry one's faith beyond the church doors. These are not the things that build great parishes but many at St. John's were blind to just how stagnant the congregation was. They were certainly blind to the struggles my friends and I faced as young Catholics. A good number of my public school classmates attended CCD with me but very few of them actually went to Mass. That number shrank even more after confirmation with some of my friends giving up on God altogether. Had this parish offered us something more than coffee and donuts after Mass then perhaps this wouldn't have been the case.
I started to look around the church and wonder where all the young people were. This question took on new meaning as I found myself developing attractions to the opposite sex with almost no girls my own age in sight. A feeling of loneliness eventually crept in and I grew to resent the large elderly presence at St. John's because in many ways it represented a failure of my parish to stay relevant. On a personal level, I so badly wanted to find fellowship and love with people my own age, seeing all the gray hair and wrinkled skin in the pews became tiresome. Hearing the elderly constantly complain about death or aches and pains was downright depressing to this teenager but few things were worse than when an old lady would tell me how handsome I looked! (Oh how I longed to hear that kind of compliment from a girl my own age.)
Sadly, much of my life in the Catholic Church has been marred by priests and laypeople who have never treated my concerns with a sense of urgency yet if parishes are to thrive, there needs to be a balance that encourages the best traits of ALL its parishioners. While youth often brings recklessness and self-absorption, it also offers creativity and passion and these gifts can be the perfect compliment to the wisdom and patience that comes with age. Without a serious commitment to its young adults, congregations stagnate in a climate of indifference and narrow-mindedness until they wither away.
