A Call To Action

Disappointed with Cardinal Sean O'Malley's response to my letter regarding the plight of Catholic singles seeking marriage, I decided to write to him again.    

Dear Cardinal Sean,

I am thankful for your prompt response to my letter regarding singles who are unable to fulfill their vocation to Holy Matrimony.  My pleas for help were a call to action not just for me but for the many Catholic singles who also feel abandoned by the Church.

My letter asked if anyone was giving much thought to those of us who are called to marriage but cannot find a spouse.  Unfortunately, this question remains unanswered and the only piece of advice you gave me was to get involved in activities in my local parish since you felt they provided the best opportunities “for developing friendships and relationships with like-minded adults including women of like age who are seeking the fulfillment and stability of a Catholic spouse.”  As I said before, the parishes that I've belonged to or visited have mostly elderly parishioners with some families so parish activities never offered good opportunities to meet like-minded adults seeking marriage.  Some people have suggested befriending those elderly parishioners since they could have daughters or grandchildren who are also seeking marriage but after many years of trying, it just hasn’t happened.  In fact, the reason I wrote to you was because our parishes have consistently failed to address the very real needs of singles seeking marriage.

Even though our struggles have gone largely unnoticed in real life, a quick search of the virtual world reveals numerous Catholic websites and blogs that have devoted considerable space to this topic.  These sites are usually filled with reader comments from brokenhearted singles who feel very hurt by the Church's indifference.  Perhaps you could check out some of these websites to better understand our plight?
   
For such a long time, I have asked for bread only to receive a stone.  The priests and bishops who have heard my pleas for help thank me for my strong faith but then do nothing.  Such a response risks weakening a person's faith and it has definitely weakened mine.  Please don't be so quick to dismiss the concerns I have brought to your attention.  My challenge to you and others in the Church is to start talking about this problem and to think about ways to bring singles together beyond the once-a-year National Catholic Singles Conference that many cannot attend due to cost and geographical distance.  The healthy future of our Catholic religion is at stake.

What will happen to all those elderly-filled parishes in the next 20 years?  Our priests might find themselves saying Mass in empty houses of worship.  It makes me wonder if places like the Carmelite Chapel will see another 60 years.  As Cardinal, your very presence attracts a large number of enthusiastic worshipers but this tends to skew the true number of parishioners who show up to Mass on a weekly basis.  Many of our parishes are dying a slow death but the response from my pastors over the years has been to focus on exterior things that do very little to increase the number of weekly worshipers like needless renovations to churches that are already beautiful.  Helping singles who actually want to get married and raise children in loving Catholic homes could be a great source of renewal for our suffering Church.

Not being able to fulfill your vocation is a very painful thing.  Imagine if someone had told you that you couldn't be a priest.  Would you simply accept this or would you feel like there was something missing in your life?  Embracing Catholic values automatically puts a person at odds with what our secular society holds dear so singles like me need the Church to be there for us.  I hope you will take some time to reflect upon what is written here and then take action.  Your prayers are most welcome but something more needs to be done. 

After mailing my letter, I viewed Cardinal Sean's blog and discovered he was in Rome attending a pro-life conference.  A few days later, he traveled to Spain so it was unlikely he would read my call to action anytime soon.  Once again it seems like our shepherds are too busy and too inaccessible to truly understand the needs of their lost sheep.

I also wondered if writing the Cardinal somehow placed my name and address on file with the Office of the Boston Archdiocese.  Did my letter get flagged and tossed into some kind of “loony bin” where it would never see the light of day?  If so, that would be very unfortunate because the Church is in serious trouble and our spiritual leaders can no longer afford to ignore the pleas of its Catholic singles.

A Letter to the Cardinal

The dedication plaque at the entrance to the Carmelite Chapel

Earlier this month, the priests running Carmelite Chapel in the Northshore Mall decided to celebrate the house of worship's 60th anniversary with a Mass led by Cardinal Sean O'Malley.  I figured this would be a good opportunity to let him know about the struggles many Catholic singles faced.

I planned to write his eminence a letter and then hand it to him after Mass but there was so much to discuss, it became difficult to narrow everything down.  Thanks to a busy work schedule, the end of the week arrived and I still hadn't typed anything up yet.  About an hour before Mass, I cleared my mind and just put pen to paper.

Dear Cardinal Sean,

I was wondering if anyone in our Holy Church is giving much thought to those of us who are called to marriage but cannot find a spouse?  The “Catholic singles crisis” seems to be talked about on blogs but very little is done on the parish or regional level to help those of us who struggle to fulfill their vocation to marriage. 

On an average day, the Carmelite Chapel sees fewer than 5 worshipers under the age of 50 during Mass.  Other parishes that I've been to have mostly elderly with some families and a few young adults but singles like me seem to be far and few in between.  Parish activities so far have only focused on families, prayer, or encouraging vocations to the priesthood.  Why isn't more being done to encourage marriage?

I've asked 3 pastors, two bishops, and several priests this only to be dismissed over the decades.  When I wanted to form my own young adult group at St. Mary's in Beverly, the pastor at the time shot this idea down.  Now I have long “aged out” of being in any young adult group.  Catholic singles are invisible to most people in the Church.  I can't understand this.  With dwindling attendance at Mass, shouldn't the Church do much more to bring singles together to get married and have families that are raised in loving Catholic homes?

I think men who see life-long celibacy as a virtue don't see what a defeat it is if you have been called to marriage.  Being single is lonely and at times painful.  I am called to Holy Matrimony but have no way to fulfill this calling.  When you embrace the Church's moral values, it shrinks the dating pool significantly and as the years go by, it becomes so much more difficult to find a good Catholic spouse.

One priest said to me, “40 is the new 30.  You still have time to have a family.”  40 is 40.  Women at that age face increasing infertility.  (Satan laughs when devout Catholic women who still seek a husband can no longer have children.)  Another priest suggested I try Catholic internet dating.  I have and these websites are terrible.  There are very few active members on them despite their claims of large numbers of singles and only a small fraction of people on these sites actually find spouses.

Something more needs to be done at the Church level.  Priests, the Pope and you need to help Catholic singles.  (A once-a-year conference in some far away state just doesn't do anything to help people like me.)  Start talking about this problem.  Stop selling me a vocation to the priesthood.  This is not my calling.  It is also not God's will either.  Please help us black sheep of the Catholic Church.
   
When I finished writing this letter, the Mass had already started and by the time I arrived at the unusually packed Carmelite Chapel, Cardinal Sean's sermon was over.  After Mass, Cardinal O'Malley stayed in the chapel's hallway to greet parishioners.  Now was my chance.  I shook his hand and asked if I could give him a letter that shared my perspective on being a Catholic single adding, “It's nothing mean.”  He smiled and said yes so I handed him the letter, thanked him and then went on my way.  I don't have high hopes anything will come of this but I had to try.  At the very least, Cardinal O'Malley now knows there are Catholic singles out there who need his (and the Church's) help.  He can choose to do something about it or he can dismiss my pleas like so many clergy have done before.

Sympathy's Weak Foundation

A while ago, I attended the town hall meeting of a local politician.  The event was held in the auditorium of a far away community's high school auditorium and in one of the hallways was a sign that read: “See someone alone...reach out and help...start with hello.”  I wondered if this slogan was part of those feel-good anti-bullying campaigns meant to appeal to kids growing up in the digital age.  Having been bullied myself, I was somewhat skeptical of how effective the sign's message was.  Right then and there a wave of memories came flooding back.

While attending Bishop Fenwick High School, I hoped to find many like-minded Catholics but found myself becoming more and more of an outcast.  My freshman year was marked by shy awkwardness.  During my sophomore year, I tried to assert myself but was ridiculed for it.  When my junior year began, I sensed time was running out to find a place to fit in.

My social life left something to be desired and while many of my friends went to parties and did other fun things outside of school, I seemed to be left out of the loop.  A well-respected and somewhat popular student who professed to be a good Catholic took pity on me and pledged he would help me get more of a social life.  I welcomed this kind of assistance but at the same time, I had my doubts he would be there for me.  Since so much time had been lost during my previous two years of high school, I had to see it to believe it.  As the weeks and then months passed, not much of anything happened to help improve my situation.  I continued to spend night after night alone in my room pining for friends to hang out with and a girlfriend.

Then one day I learned the student who pledged to help improve my social life completely forgot about me.  He and one of my friends had been hanging out and decided to go bowling.  Then they thought it would be a lot more fun to invite a bunch of people.  Soon friends were calling friends and an impromptu “tournament” was being formed.  So many students agreed to stop by the bowling alley, several lanes had to be reserved.  Everyone was having a great time when more than halfway through this tournament one of my friends realized they forgot to invite me.  When I found out about this, I was deeply hurt.  It could have been an honest mistake but being left out had me wondering if I was that invisible to people...even the ones who said they would go out of their way to help.  Had I been really popular, I don't think I would have been so far away from everyone's minds.

This incident highlighted the trouble with friendships that are based on sympathy rather than mutual respect.  Right off the bat, these relationships begin with unequal footing.  While reaching out to that sad, lonely kid can be helpful, it shouldn't be done if you aren't going to make their needs and concerns a priority.  From then on, I never took anything this fellow student said seriously.

When we help those who are less fortunate than us, do we see them as fellow human beings who might have been given a bad break or do we see them as something less than ourselves?  Doing the latter robs people of their dignity and could cause more harm than good.  When politicians court "the poor" to get votes, we hear all the speeches about fairness but notice how they never seem to get down and dirty with them to truly understand their plight.  Instead many of our elected officials talk down to the poor from their mansions and fancy dinner parties.  Every year, we see them clamor for photo opportunities at the local food pantry during Thanksgiving but if they really cared as much as they said they did, why wouldn't they invite a few of those homeless people to live with them?  Talk is cheap.

One day during school, our class was let out early so we could attend an event in the auditorium.  We were allowed to wait outside since it was such a warm and sunny day.  As my fellow students spontaneously gathered into their usual cliques, I stood by myself and leaned up against a wooden post.  An overly religious female classmate saw this and asked me, “Do you want to join us?”  I looked at her and just shook my head no.  I had enough sympathy for one day.  If I couldn't be desired for who I was, I'd rather be alone.

Only When They Want Something

My church fills up with elderly worshipers pretty quickly so if you want to sit in your usual pew, you have to show up about twenty minutes before the Mass begins.  Yesterday, my mother and I arrived a little late so we had to sit a few rows back and closer to the middle.  As usual, I scanned the room to see if there were any people my age in the sea of old people.  Off to the right was a well dressed young lady but she was so far away, I couldn't tell how old she was.  As the Mass progressed, I would occasionally glance over to see if she was still there.  After communion, our pastor commented on what a good thing it was to have younger people at Mass and then he called the young lady up to the lectern to speak about the subject.

As it turned out, the young woman was with FOCUS, the Fellowship of Catholic University Students.  She said young adults were turning away from God in record numbers and FOCUS aimed to change that by providing fellowship and evangelization on college campuses.  She explained 23 was a critical age because that's when young people tended to give up on religion.  According to her, it was imperative parishioners like us supported FOCUS with financial commitments so they could continue to spread the faith to young minds.  I knew there was a catch to having a beautiful young woman show up to Mass!

At the end of services, she stood at the back of the church to talk with parishioners.  Again, I felt abandoned by the Church because there's never any help for people who aged out of the young adult category.  The next day, I checked out the website for FOCUS.  Their tag line was, “You are made for greatness.”  It made me think about my college days.  In the beginning, I was filled with such hope and felt God was calling me to do something wonderful.  By graduation, I was disillusioned and lost.  The website explained how FOCUS was on college campuses across the country adding, “...so chances are, we're on yours.”  This statement is somewhat inaccurate because in all of Massachusetts, only 4 colleges had FOCUS ministries.  We certainly didn't have them at my alma mater.

The website also boasted they were helping young people find the path God had for them and this inspired countless religious vocations and holy, healthy marriages.  They asked us to help them reach the hearts and minds of this generation.  Once again, people my age were being written off.  Too late to help us, I suppose.

The woman from FOCUS told us young people often give up their faith during their college years.  Despite my many set backs in college, I still had some faith left inside me.  It only diminished later on in life when my pleas for help were largely ignored by several priests who did absolutely nothing to provide fellowship and guidance to this lost sheep.  As my mother and I left church, part of me felt like talking to this woman about my struggles but then I figured it wasn't worth the trouble.  She was there to get money for her ministry, not to hear about my struggle to find purpose in life.

The whole incident reminded me of a Mass several years ago at my former parish.  My mother and I sat in our usual pew off to the right and a beautiful girl who I had never seen before walked up the isle.  She turned to me and smiled as she passed by.  All during Mass, I wondered who she was.  Just before the services had ended, our priest called a young man to the lectern to discuss the plight of Palestinian Christians living in the occupied territories.  The girl who had smiled at me was part of this group and they were at our church to sell trinkets in order to raise funds for their charity.  My mother and I went downstairs to see what they had to offer.  The girl looked at me again and said in a quiet voice, “We meet again.”  I pretended not to hear her because she was being friendly just to get money out of me.  I later joked to my mother, “The prospects are so bad at St. Mary's, they have to import attractive women from halfway around the world.”  In both situations, these females had caught my eye but women like that seem to visit my church only when they want something.

Two Years Out

The inspiration for this blog can be found here:
  https://christianpundit.wordpress.com/

Yesterday marked the two-year anniversary of this blog.  Many months before the site was created, I found myself spending a great deal of time searching the internet just to see what others had to say about being Christian and single.  Was loneliness weighing heavy on their souls?  Did they think the Church was ignoring them?  Were they frustrated because their parish priests just didn't fully comprehend their woes?  What I found on various Christian blogs, chat rooms and articles was heartbreaking.

A celibate older man who never dated before felt so lonely, he wished for cancer just to put an end to his miserable life.  A woman who had never even kissed a guy wondered if her toddler niece would grow up and lose her virginity first.  One middle-aged virgin was so frustrated, he contemplated hiring a prostitute just to finally get sex over with.  A postmenopausal woman felt betrayed by God because she would never know the joy of bringing life into the world.  There was a great deal of hurt out there and it made me angry.  These singles were miserable because many years ago, they had embraced the Church's teachings.  Now they found themselves abandoned in an ever-shrinking dating pool.

I had thought about blogging for a while but the spirit finally moved me after reading a blog called Christian Pundit (not to be confused with The Christian Pundit).  Its author is a single woman who writes to vent her frustrations and she doesn't care if people perceive her as being too negative.  I thought it was refreshing to see content that wasn't sugarcoated and figured this approach would work for my own blog.  If people found inspiration or wisdom from Long Lost Black Sheep that would be great, but I do not write to gain followers or impress other people.  Posting content is actually cathartic but my two years in the blogosphere has brought its fair share of quirky reactions.

“I agree with you but here's why you're wrong.”  Sometimes readers will complement me on a post but then go on to pick apart its content in rather blunt ways.  I don't mind dissent as long as it's respectful.  Not agreeing with me is one thing.  Passing off your opinions as the Gospel truth is another.

“You're only making yourself more miserable.”  I'm already miserable.  This blog is simply a byproduct of my chronic loneliness.  Those burning desires won't disappear if I suddenly stopped writing.

“We have so much in common.”  If you make this statement but then go on to tell me how different your life is from mine, then we don't have much in common.

Over-sharing  One reader was so happy to find my blog, he started telling me very inappropriate details about his life.  If your sister likes to “chase cock” and your libido has gone way down, I don't want to hear about it.  This blog features moderated comments because some reader remarks were too vulgar.

Bad advice  If you tell me I should be happy as a single person or all I really need is God's love then this blog is not for you.  If you think I should become a priest and / or join a monastery, then this blog REALLY isn't for you.

Insulting  I hoped people would be fairly Christ-like on a Catholic blog but some readers have been just plain rude.  Perhaps they can't see their insensitivity.  Maybe they can but just don't care.  When I told one reader not to comment on this blog anymore, he fired a parting shot by saying I should seek psychological help before I hurt myself.

Reading comprehension  I can tell when someone doesn't read my content very carefully because they will ask me questions that have already been answered.  If I mention my hometown in a post, then you shouldn't be asking me where I'm from.

Invasive  Asking a total stranger if they are still a virgin is pretty inappropriate even for a Catholic blog.  Telling me what is going on in my mind when you don't even know me crosses a line too.

Missing the point  I once spent a great deal of time going back and forth with a reader because he couldn't understand my strong calling to be married (which is a central theme to this blog).  After all was said and done, he still didn't get it.  

Despite all of these quirks, there have been a number of comments from thoughtful and considerate readers.  I'm not looking for people to agree with me but you should be respectful.  Having a blog can be a very personal thing and I think I'm entitled to set some standards.  (The author of Christian Pundit does not allow dissent.)

After two years on the internet, I continue to enjoy putting my thoughts out there.  Who knows how long this site will remain active but there is still much to discuss.

Where Is Christmas?

As a kid, Christmas was such a magical time.  My married friends tell me some of that magic gets rekindled each year as they watch their own children open presents on Christmas morning.  Being single during the holidays usually brings feelings of isolation that I just can't shake.

When I first attended St. Mary's in Beverly with my mother and brother, Christmas Masses seemed special because the church was still very new to us but as the years passed, I started to feel out of place.  Seeing the pews filled with so many old people and families certainly didn't help.  When my brother moved away, it was just my mother and me.  Sometimes it was just me.

At one point, our pastor decided to reintroduce midnight Mass after a long absence from the schedule.  I wanted to see if it would attract a younger crowd but since my mother didn't want to stay up late, I had to go by myself.  Sitting alone in a pew didn't exactly fill me with the Christmas spirit.  That first midnight Mass was well-attended and over the years, its popularity only increased.  Soon I found myself surrounded by old people and families again.

The music during Christmas Mass featured a choir of senior citizens, organ and trumpet but someone got the bright idea to add a kettle drum into the mix.  When it first thundered, we all flinched out of fear.  Every year since, it's taken unsuspecting once-a-year Catholics by surprise.  Our pastor said this music was so beautiful, it was probably what heaven sounded like.  I found it to be more annoying than heaven-like.  Having senior citizens belt out the line “Glory to God” over and over again just wasn't my cup of tea but at St. Mary's, people tended to see things one way.  

Our pastor decided to replace the church’s perfectly adequate nativity scene with a much more expensive, hand-crafted one from Italy.  A lot of money was raised to acquire these figurines but they did nothing to increase my faith.  While looking them over, I wondered why on one of the holiest days of the year, my faith felt so weak.

Despite all the decorations, music and well-meaning sermons, I wasn't getting much out of Christmas Mass anymore but it was far better for some at my church to ignore people like me because our very existence invalidated their rosy view of the parish's sense of community.  No room at the inn for lost sheep.

I still go to church hoping the Holy Spirit will set my soul on fire somehow but for the past few years, Christmas seems like just another day.  Before the start of this year's Christmas Mass at my current parish, I spotted a man in the hallway holding a shepherd’s crook.  Apparently, our priests asked two people to dress up as Mary and Joseph with the woman holding a real baby.  During Mass, the little one started to cry so Mary and Joseph had to slink back into the hallway.  I give these priests an A for effort but such a display did little to inspire me.

At least it wasn't as tacky as a zip line Jesus.  A former pastor once told the congregation how one church had set up a wire that went from the choir loft all the way down to the crèche that was placed just in front of the altar.  During Christmas Mass, they would send the baby Jesus speeding down the wire to his manger.  Gimmicks like this seem more like comedy relief than spiritual inspiration.

When I look at the Christmas tree in the house, I think of how much coming down those stairs with my brother to open presents meant to me.  This year, my brother called at 1 PM on Christmas Day to invite us to his house for a Christmas meal.  My mother and I were nothing more than an afterthought to him and I suspect the phone call was just a courtesy.  Given the long and messy drive up to his place, there was no way we could have made it.

My mother and I settled down for a quite dinner by ourselves but I was plagued by a tinge of sadness.  Something wonderful has been lost and I find myself asking more than ever, “Where is Christmas?”

Good Intentions...Bad Results

Ave Maria Singles was founded in 1998 as an online “marriage service” for Catholics who felt frustrated in their search for a spouse.  The site's creator once explained, “I'm not after big numbers or big money, but building a service filled with quality people with like minds.”  I first heard of the website a few years ago while reading a Catholic message board and decided to check it out.

While many internet dating sites only allow the pubic to view a small sample of member profiles, this didn't seem to be the case with Ave Maria Singles.  I was happy to see almost a hundred pages of eligible women listed but as I scrolled through all of the profiles, my curiosity turned to disappointment.

What appeared to be a large number of women really wasn't when you broke down those profiles geographically.  Members of Ave Maria Singles not only included people from the United States and Canada but also from countries on other continents.  My home state of Massachusetts had just two members and one of them lived very far away from me.  “Would love to join you for coffee.  Let me check my frequent flier miles.”

Some profiles had missing photos or introductions that read, “I will answer later.”  Putting your best foot forward is crucial in the online dating scene and incomplete profiles project laziness.  Of all the females on the site, less than a handful intrigued me.  Saying, “I love God and going to Mass and I'm looking for a man who embraces Jesus as his Lord and Savior” really doesn't tell me much about the individual behind the profile.

A 6 month membership was $79 and a lifetime membership was $179.  Basic memberships could be upgraded to a “premium membership” for an additional fee.  If Ave Maria Singles was founded on such a noble intention...to bring Godly people together for the sacrament of marriage, then why must they nickle and dime us like that?

One reviewer on Yelp writes: “Imagine you are a Catholic single.  Imagine you are having a hard time meeting people.  Imagine a website that tries to take advantage of your insecurities and abuses the fact that you may be a little desperate.  It lures you in with the promise of thousands of members and implies that they have a lot of active members.  They had 6 active members.  In all of Texas.”  The reviewer then complains of the site's poor customer service when she asked for an immediate refund.

Another reviewer who met his wife on Ave Maria Singles in 2003 echoes these sentiments.  Despite a lifetime membership, the first conversations he had with his wife on the site disappeared from his account after a long period of inactivity.  The company agreed to restore them only if he provided an endorsement for the site's “success story” section.  After continued discussion, Ave Maria Singles agreed to retrieve the messages for a fee.  He remarks such treatment “...isn't much of a reflection of Christian charity, and certainly doesn't represent what Catholics should be seeking and practicing in marriage.”

This reviewer also says that out of curiosity, he decided to investigate the number of women ages 34 to 41 who were currently in the same state he had searched ten years ago.  Only 8 hits appeared out of a state with a population of 6 million and he recognized a couple of those profiles from ten years ago!  “They advertise that they have had over two thousand marriages take place among members, but that is for all fifty states plus foreign countries, over a period of fifteen years.  From that perspective, two thousand isn't that high a number (if all occurred in the U.S., that would be fewer than three per state per year).”

All of this does not give me much faith in online dating and those negative reviews certainly strike a chord.  There are people who have reported positive experiences with Ave Maria Singles.  They say the website helped them find a spouse when nothing else seemed to work.  According to the site's creator, finding your better half “takes God's time, not yours.”  He advises staying with it even if five years pass.

Being glib about “God's plan” can be very hurtful to singles especially if you've been alone for such a long time.  Charging a large fee just to join and then segregating memberships based on how much more someone pays doesn't seem very Christ-like.  Neither does holding a member's cherished correspondence to his future wife hostage.  I hope the people behind Ave Maria Singles remember the verse “whatever you did for the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”

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.

The Bittersweet Autumn

 Living in New England makes you keenly aware of how the different seasons play upon your mood.  To some, winter is a time for skiing and cozy nights by the fire but for others it brings a bone-chilling cold and the misery of shoveling dirty snow.  Summer can mean lazy days at the beach and delicious lobster rolls but also oppressive humidity, sunburns and sheltering in air conditioned rooms.  Many New Englanders have a love / hate relationship with the seasons and they aren't shy when it comes to complaining about it.  Winter lasts far too long, spring is filled with rain and by the time summer arrives, there's only a few months to enjoy it.

Hot apple cider.  Yum.

Autumn is one of my favorite times of the year but it too is short-lived especially if you consider Halloween its own season.  In addition to the brightly colored foliage on trees, I love the wonderful palate found in fall fashions.  It's cold enough to keep the biting and stinging insects of summer away yet warm enough to wear that lightweight jacket with a nice sweater.  A few mild days usually pop up which allows for a stylish layered look without all the bulky winter clothes.  There are delicious seasonal foods like warm apple cider donuts and pumpkin pie as well as Thanksgiving dinner.  A walk in the forest might reveal the distinctive smell of a wood-burning stove.  Then there are the spicy scents of candles and potpourri.

Despite all the wonderful things the season has to offer, there is a downside.  The days get much shorter bringing long shadows and harsh sunlight by late afternoon.  Early darkness means you simply can't do as much outside.  Fall reminds us winter is just around the corner with ice-cold breezes and a frost that kills summer flowers.  (Sometimes it even snows in October!)  The season can bring its fair share of regret when you realize the year is almost over.

Russell Orchards seen during an autumn afternoon.

Of course, for this lost sheep, none of what autumn has to offer can be experienced without the taint of loneliness.  One rite of the season is a trip to Russell Orchards in the town of Ipswich, MA.  From a quaint barn complete with fireplace, they sell all kinds of wonderful pies, ciders, and wines in addition to their signature apple cider donuts.  The place embodies autumn in New England but it also fills me with a yearning.  How I long to sip hot apple cider by the toasty fire with a girlfriend but thoughts of all those lost years spent without a significant other inevitably sink in.  I have been going to Russell Orchards for a long time...even when it was called Goodale Orchards.

An empty rail trail with low shadows.

An autumn bicycle ride on the local rail trail can be nice but it also brings feelings of extreme isolation when I traverse the lightly traveled stretches.  With no other souls around, the quiet makes you feel like the last person left on earth.  If I had a girlfriend, a ride on the trail wouldn't be so lonely.

This Thanksgiving, I celebrated the holiday with only my mother.  We had a peaceful dinner and the food was tasty but I couldn't stop thinking about how alone she would be if I had not been there.  Since my dad passed away, Thanksgivings have a tinge of sadness to them and that empty seat at the dinning room table is a constant reminder of our loss.  If I had a wife and kids, the holiday would be much more festive instead of feeling like two people desperately trying to make the best of a bad situation.

During the season, I sometimes think of the song Forever Autumn by Justin Hayward.  Lyrics like “The winter winds will be much colder now you're not here” highlight how miserable fall can be without that special someone to share it with.  A few people in the Church like to say singleness is a gift.  They claim our lives can be just as happy and fulfilled as married people.  I beg to differ.  When you feel deep down that you were meant to share your life with another and bring new life into the world then singleness can feel like a curse.  I've had my fair share of lonely autumns and I'm pretty tired of it.

Trek As Religion

I may have enjoyed reruns of Star Trek growing up but it was just one of the many television shows that were part of my childhood.  This would all change in high school.

For much of the 1970s, Trekkies were stuck watching the same old episodes in syndication but an animated series and feature film appeared before the decade's end.  After a few sequels, the franchise returned to television during my last year of middle school with Star Trek: The Next Generation.  The show was interesting but the first two seasons were a bit lacking.

Then for several reasons, I found myself embracing Star Trek like never before starting in 1989.  Star Trek V: The Final Frontier was in theaters and I thoroughly enjoyed it even though most fans didn't.  A new comic book series followed and that further captured my attention.

A few months later, I discovered FASA Corporation's Star Trek role playing game and all bets were off.  The company produced beautiful model ships which blended seamlessly with the established designs from the original series and movies.  Game supplements were well-written and highly imaginative.  FASA took elements from the original and animated series, books, and movies to create a very detailed Star Trek universe where past inconsistencies and errors were creativity explained.  In many ways, what they produced was far better than anything coming out of the Paramount Pictures studios.  FASA's products even inspired me to create my own characters and storylines.

Some of FASA's ship designs are still beloved to this day.

Eventually Star Trek: The Next Generation hit its stride and I really identified with the character of Lt. Barclay whose awkward shyness masked a very creative soul.  As I continued to feel lost in high school, Star Trek spoke to me in ways my Catholic religion didn't.  It presented a positive vision for humanity where profound questions about life were asked and the petty pursuits of this world were a thing of the past.

While Star Trek helped fill a void in my life, it also created a fair amount of isolation.  Building detailed models of starships was hard work that required countless hours of alone time.  I started wearing Star Trek pins on my Bishop Fenwick sweaters hoping to attract the attention of other fans but this only gave my bullies ammunition.  While friends listened to bands like U2, I was checking out soundtracks from the Star Trek films which featured classical music.  I nearly wore out my VCR watching the shows and movies over and over again. 

I eventually realized there just weren't any other die-hard Trekkies in high school.  Here was this wonderfully intricate universe of science fiction yet I couldn't talk to very many people about it.  Now I had an ax to grind.  I felt if my fellow classmates didn't appreciate Star Trek then they were rejecting me.  My love of the franchise turned into a shield that kept people at a safe distance.  If I felt left out of a conversation, I would make an obscure Star Trek reference to get back at them.  To some, I was becoming cold and insensitive.  In our teens we often fail to see how others perceive us.

At the time, being a geek was not very cool.  That's why I am amazed by how accepting society is today of all the things that made us outcasts.  During a visit to the 2016 Boston Comic Con, I saw plenty of people dressed as characters from Star Trek and a good number of them were female.  I thought to myself, "Where were these girls when I was getting teased in high school?"  From models to books to video games, the sheer economic power of today's geekdom is staggering.  However, it's also a double-edged sword.

Star Trek is supposed to be a universe where materialism does not matter but you'd never know it by all the merchandising fans lap up.  Will a Jean-Luc Picard bobblehead doll really bring fulfillment?  Doubtful.  Many place science fiction on a pedestal so high, it starts to resemble a religion.  I once knew a fan of Star Wars who watched the movies so much, it was like his version of going to Mass.

For a while, I too worshiped at the "altar of Trek" but in the end, it didn't lead to true happiness.  The time and energy I spent building model ships just wasn't worth it to me anymore.  FASA Corporation's license to produce Star Trek products was revoked by Paramount Pictures because the studio disagreed with certain aspects of the company's storylines.  Yet subsequent television shows like Voyager and Enterprise seemed to lack creativity.  The current movie reboots are just plain schlocky.

I've been a recovering Trekkie for many years now and while I still think it's important to be young at heart and have hobbies, there needs to be a balance.  Lately, society seems more juvenile than ever.  Are we even seeing the challenges that lie in front of us?  Time spent watching the same movie over and over again could be spent helping the poor or defending a cause.  How are we ever going to realize that positive vision for humanity if we don't do anything meaningful in the here and now to make it happen?

Not Of These Times

I'm not ashamed to be a child of “the 80s” because it was such a wonderful time despite being short-lived. The decade took a little while to find its voice but by 1983, the disco tunes, gaudy patterns and odd earthy colors of the 1970s had been surpassed by something truly new. Turning on the radio meant you'd hear great music usually influenced by synthesizers. Going to the movies often filled you with a sense of adventure and there was always something to watch on the small screen like cool music videos. My wardrobe reflected the spirit of G.I. Joe with army surplus camouflage but it also included corduroy and the timeless combination of bluejeans and t-shirts. At times, “the 80s” could get a bit hokey but at least this new aesthetic was original.

As early as 1986, I noticed some of the things that made the 80s great start to wane and by the time I entered high school two years later, something was really off. The cool new wave and synthpop I loved seemed to be replaced with rather bland music and it only got worse as the years rolled on.

Songs from 1988 that stand out in my mind as being pretty annoying were:

Bobby Brown "My Prerogative"

Boy Meets Girl “Waiting for a Star to Fall”

New Kids on the Block “You Got It (The Right Stuff)”

Paula Abdul “Straight Up”

Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock “It Takes Two”

Tracks from 1989 that I really disliked included:

After 7 “Can't Stop”

Donna Summer "This Time I Know It's For Real"
Lisa Stansfield “You Can't Deny It”

Milli Vanilli "Girl You Know It's True"

Taylor Dayne “Love Will Lead You Back”

Unfortunately, the 80s were suffering from an identity crisis. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry to discard many of the things that had made the decade great but nothing wonderful was being created in its stead. This could clearly be seen in the changing fashions of the late 1980s. Watch an episode of Miami Vice from the first two seasons and you'll see nicely coordinated pastels but skip ahead to the later seasons and dark colors with loud patterns seem to be the norm.

Miami Vice early on in the series.

The color palate definitely shifted in later seasons.

In high school, the dress code reflected this shift too. Some of the cool kids liked to wear parachute pants and oddly colored dress shirts with garish patterns but thankfully a mandatory Bishop Fenwick sweater covered most of it up. (The eponymous television show character Parker Lewis regularly wore these shirts too.) One male student had a black crossover tie that was held together in the center with a diamond stud pin. His outfit highlighted the terrible sense of style we had to deal with...a style that was very different from the jeans, camouflage and corduroy pants that were prevalent not too long ago.

Parker Lewis and his patterned shirt.

My school wardrobe was pretty subdued and usually consisted of khaki pants with either striped dress shirts or turtlenecks. Later on I followed in my brother's footsteps and started wearing the occasional bolo tie as a nod to that alternative 80s look.

The overuse of hair spray was also popular among many of the female students at Bishop Fenwick. The 80s might have been famous for the stereotype of “big hair” but I never noticed this until high school. It was not a good look.

After a while, I felt trapped in these times instead of being a part of them. I had loved growing up in the 80s but that distinctive era just didn't seem to exist anymore.  In 1989, the school was going to have a "remember the 80s" dance featuring much of the music I once enjoyed. This was one dance I really wanted to attend but it was canceled due to a lack of interest.

As the decade passed into history, 1990 brought more music that I just couldn't stand:

Bell Biv Devoe “Poison”

Deee-Lite “Groove Is In The Heart”

Linear “Sending All My Love”

Mariah Carey “Vision of Love”

Maxi Priest “Close to You”
Sinéad O'Connor "Nothing Compares 2 U"

Snap “I’ve Got The Power”

Soulsister “The Way to Your Heart”

Suzanne Vega and DNA “Tom's Diner”
Wilson Phillips "Hold On"

I first heard Bell Biv Devoe's “Poison” during a school talent show. As a few of the cool kids danced on stage in their parachute pants, I wondered what the hell happened to mainstream music.

Annoying songs I remember from 1991 include:

Another Bad Creation “Iesha”

Bryan Adams "(Everything I Do) I Do It For You"
Boyz II Men “End of the Road”

Color Me Badd “I Wanna Sex You Up”

Vanessa Williams “Best for Last”

Some artists would distance themselves from all this “corporately produced” music ultimately giving rise to the genre known as grunge. I was not a fan of this either.

Being an outcast at Bishop Fenwick was bad enough but feeling very disconnected from society itself only added to my feelings of isolation. I found myself listening to doo-wop on the oldies station and new age and smooth jazz on an easy listening station. Later on, I stumbled upon college radio and while much of what they played was just plain weird, I did enjoy a weekly Celtic music show and an oldies show that featured very obscure tracks. When it came to the mainstream, I was no longer buying what society force-fed everyone else.

The Path To A Black Sheep

After an unremarkable first year at Bishop Fenwick High School, I was eager to just be myself.  Feeling free to express my Catholic values was so important to me in addition to making friends and feeling accepted.  Unfortunately, the environment I encountered in high school was fraught with pitfalls. 

It struck me how un-Catholic the school could be at times.  During my biology class, the teacher decided to blurt out her own personal views on abortion which ran counter to what the Church taught about the sanctity of life.  The odd thing was, abortion had nothing to do with the day's lesson.  If one of Bishop Fenwick's goals was to impart Catholic values, it was clear not all of its teachers were on board.

During my Catholic Morality class of all places I got teased for defending the Church's stance against premarital sex.  Some of the bullies who made fun of me that day were so good at navigating the different roles for students, they came out smelling like roses.  At times they appeared to be nothing more than enthusiastic jocks brimming with school spirit.  Some were even Eucharistic ministers during our school Masses.  What faculty member would doubt such squeaky-clean outward appearances but I saw the side of them that was anything but wholesome.  As these bullies handed out Holy Communion, I sometimes wondered what was going on in their minds.

A nun with a strict reputation named Sr. Nancy helped run the library but I found her to be very fair and reasonable with her students.  For one assignment, we had a few weeks to memorize a particular library cataloging system.  Almost all my fellow classmates blew this off and I was one of only two students to pass the exam.  As a reward, we were exempt from the extra work she handed out to the class that day.  A few of the students who had failed actually gave me a hard time for passing the test because in their eyes it was cooler to flunk the exam.  Sometimes academic success carried a stigma especially if you were male and somewhat nerdy.  I wasn’t a great student but bullies used just about anything they could to cut me down.

Friendships were often hard to nurture at Bishop Fenwick simply because the student body hailed from many different communities all along the Northshore with one classmate residing as far away as East Boston.  Since we were so spread out geographically, I never got together with many of the friends and acquaintances I wanted to know better.  When you don't have a driver's license, even relatively short distances seem like a world away.

Like some of my classmates, I came from a middle class background and my parents worked very hard to give me a Catholic school education.  It was a bit of a culture shock to encounter students who were very well-off and incapable of relating to certain economic struggles.  I was flabbergasted to learn one student had been given a brand new Saab not by her parents but by her aunt.  The most my relatives ever gave me was 20 dollars in a birthday card…when we were lucky!  Another student's parents owned a beachfront summer house in Maine.  “Toto…we're not in Kansas anymore.”

I longed for a girlfriend but many of the females at Bishop Fenwick tended to fall into two categories.  Those with strong Catholic values were so prudish, they acted like nuns in training.  Girls who rebelled against the Church's teachings seemed too sexual.  Neither group appealed to me romantically.

A motto I heard over and over again at Bishop Fenwick during orientation was, “Get involved.”  This can be a very difficult thing when you start to feel like an outcast.  All the hope and optimism I had during my freshman year was beginning to slip away.  Many other factors would place me on the path to a black sheep, though.