Expressions of Catholic identity were everywhere, when people walked past the front of the Church, they sometimes genuflected or blessed themselves, grade school boys and girls wore the Rosary on the belts of their pants and school uniforms, Marian statues poked their images of the Mother of God through lace curtains and immaculately clean front windows. Perhaps a lot of this recollection is nostalgia for a Catholic existence that is no longer around…
It is no longer around, alas. McNichol rightly laments this and suggests that "the evolution from a neighborhood parochial system to the sprawling suburban parish complex is part of the blame for the erosion of visible Catholic identity over the past 50 years." Certainly that may have played a part in the erosion but I wonder if some blame may also be be laid at the feet of the radical post-Vatican II reformers, whose innovations gave rise in the Catholic Church to the Protestant notion of "church shopping;" people willing to travel great distances in order to avoid worship à la Kumbaya.
Whatever the reasons for parochialism's decline, it would be good if it were revived. McNichol writes:
As part of Catholic renewal and evangelization in the 21st century let’s impart a bit of South Philly Catholicism to all of our children and neighbors and show them clearly that being Catholic is a proud theological tradition that deserves emulation and modern participation. Don’t be afraid to show your Catholicity, order the fish on Fridays, go to Mass on a daily basis, vote in elections with Catholic morality in mind...
It was with the above in mind your Bloviator, only recently received into Holy Mother Church, registered with the local parish church, resisting the temptation to do so in a downtown parish with better music and liturgy. Recently, I hoofed it from the quasi-swanky part of my neighborhood in northern Manhattan to the decidedly less swanky part of it where the parish church is located; where the music and liturgy, sadly, leaves much to be desired. In the parish office I explained to a friendly receptionist why I was there. She handed me a spiral-bound notebook of lined paper, instructed me to put down my name and address, which I did, and told me pledge envelopes would soon be mailed to me. I was now a parishioner. The envelopes did indeed arrive few weeks later but I will confess to feeling just a little let down.
In my Episcopal days changing parishes was more involved. When joining a new parish you had to fill out a form stating date of birth, baptism and confirmation. The new rector would send a request for a "letter of transfer" to the previous rector seeking confirmation you had been a member of his parish. Only when the letter had been received by the new rector could you then consider yourself a member of that parish. I remember going through this process many years ago at St. Thomas Church on Fifth Avenue, one of the few remaining "orthodox" Episcopal Churches in the Diocese of New York and, unlike most Episcopal Churches, having a very large number of parishioners. Despite that, after the paperwork had been accomplished, the rector, the Rev'd John Andrew, insisted on an interview and took me out to lunch afterwards.
While I realize Catholic priests have vastly many more souls entrusted to their care than most Protestant clergy (as well vastly smaller salaries), I can't imagine it would bust the budgets of most Catholic Churches to host the occasional modest do where a couple of bottles of plonk are unscrewed and new parishioners are introduced to their fellow fisheaters. It would go a long way, I think, to increasing that old parochial pride and that would be all to the good.
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