Parishes: Missions in transition

Bishop Edward B. Scharfenberger

Like church, the word “parish” invites as many different reactions and feelings as pizza toppings. I have a friend who has been trying to sell me on pineapple. I like pineapple yet somehow cannot quite muster enough enthusiasm to try it with garlic and tomato sauce on a slice. Personally, I prefer anchovies on mine, but them’s fightin’ words and, I know, not going to be an addition many would welcome on their pizza — or anywhere for that matter. Not even disguised under a Caesar salad dressing. In these days of parish mission renewal, I hope we can do a better job coming together than squabbling over pizza toppings. We have serious work ahead of us and front and center is what we are committed to in parish life. The better question is to WHOM are we committed and are we listening.

I am afraid that trying to define what “parish” is, is almost as challenging as reconciling diverse pizza passions. The same might be said about projecting what a parish should be at this time. We may agree on one thing, that a parish is a canonically defined territory within a diocese assigned to a “proper” pastor. At least that is how Canon Law, the universal law of the Catholic Church prescribes as “a certain community of Christian faithful stably constituted in a particular Church, whose pastoral care is entrusted to a pastor (parochus) as its proper shepherd under the authority of the diocesan bishop (1983 CIC, can. 515, §1).

The canonical description tells us, first of all, that a parish is not simply a territory or building. More than a church or a school, it is a community of baptized persons. It is not just a “gathering” or a congregation either. Some “commonness” is required, which implies a sharing of belief, vision and activity. Not only must this belief be expressed in worship, it must also be seen in action.

Secondly, it has some permanence or stability. It is not just a temporary grouping. This is one reason I am fond of saying, “you can close a church, but you cannot ‘close’ a parish.” Sure, the law permits a bishop to suppress a parish, that is, to declare its canonical extinction. Ouch! Sounds awful, I know. If and when that must happen, the territory and pastoral care of the persons in the defunct parish is usually entrusted to a contiguous parish and its pastor. Sometimes two or more “next-door” parishes are suppressed and “merged” into one larger entity. My point is that people cannot be suppressed. Most parishes celebrate generations before them whose faith and traditions they continue to honor, even if they do not have the financial and material resources to support aging parish properties built over the decades. What then is left for them to do and be as a parish?

No one certainly would dispute that the mission of every parish has something to do with the care of souls. Since we know no human “souls” who exist outside of bodies, completely disconnected from the need for fellowship, physical and emotional care and support, the health and well-being of everyone within the parish boundaries is obviously within the scope of every parish’s concerns. Sometimes the stability of a parish may even require it to reach out beyond its territorial limits for help and the identification of resources to sustain its well-being. So today we are seeing “parish networks” develop, sometimes sharing human resources, or even a church or school itself.

What have we been learning over the years? In the United States, especially in the cities, parishes were typically created by bishops seeking to provide for various groups of immigrants. The first wave was mostly from western Europe, up till about the end of the 19th century. The second, somewhat overlapping, saw more immigrants from central and eastern Europe, beginning toward the end of that century and continuing well into the 20th. After World War II, many more immigrants began to enter from Latin American and Asian countries. 

One of the first goals of earlier immigrant groups was to erect a church. Support came from parishioners who brought their national pride, their customs, their language, often even their own priests, and transplanted, so to speak, a patch of their homeland into their new parish. The expectation was that their pastor would care for them as they strove and struggled to adapt to the American “way of life.” This would include respect for the Constitution and the legal system derived from it, seeking gainful employment, earning one’s own living, and acquiring at least some facility in English to shop and do business. What language you spoke, music you sang or food you ate at home was nobody’s business but yours and your family’s. 

In America, being a country that has always welcomed, or at least tolerated diverse peoples, church and religion tended to remain more or less private matters. Some religionists have always taken more active initiatives in proselytizing, even going door to door to sell their own brand. Catholics largely were content to keep the faith in their families, although there were always movements within the larger Church seeking to reach out to others, particularly the poor and marginalized. While the primary focus of parish life was the church and the sacraments celebrated there — parish life was church-centered — organizations like the Knights of Columbus, the Christophers and the Catholic Worker Movement flourished nationally. 

It is hard to pinpoint when this model began to dissemble, but over the decades following the end of World War II, many urban dwellers moved to the exurbs and suburbs. Newer immigrants arrived and took their place, many not Catholic or Christian, often without the economic stability of their predecessors. Attendance and collections dropped, even while newcomers enthusiastically embraced a work ethic, building families and fostering the sacraments. Once again we are in transition. Unlike our ancestors, changes we face in our parish lives may not be geographical, navigating to new shores, but we have equally challenging territories to enter where our mission may be as near as the person next door.