Old guard hold Church back... and the fresh faces are not there

IF you’ve been to, or tuned into, a Catholic Mass in the last couple of weeks you’re probably aware that Pope Francis recently launched a Universal Synod, set to take place in October 2023. This is supposed to be a different kind of synod from ones that have gone before. Usually it’s a group of bishops from all over the world who come together a few times over a year or two, to discuss a chosen topic or theme that’s pertinent to the work of the Church.

They come up with suggestions about how things might be improved, areas that might need to change, or identify the parts they believe are working just fine. This ‘advisory body’ then presents their work to the Pope in Rome.

Since Pope Francis took over the position in 2013, there have been synods on topics such as the family, youth and, rather more specifically, the Church in the Pan-Amazon region.

This latest one plans to ‘open up the floor’ to all of those who have been baptised into the Catholic Church. In other words, a lot more lay people should get the chance to put forward their own experiences and thoughts on how the management of their faith is going.

At the launch of the synod, Pope Francis promised it would ‘listen to the questions, concerns and hopes’ of every church, people and nation.

He continued: ‘Let us ask: in the Church, are we good at listening? How good is the hearing of our heart? Do we allow people to express themselves, to walk in faith even though they have had difficulties in life, and to be part of the life of the community without being hindered, rejected or judged? Let us not soundproof our hearts.’

It’s a lovely idea. Although it does raise the question: did all those previous synods only involve discussions between a load of bishops? Have they never gone to their followers before to ask them how they were getting on, or if they had any suggestions about how things might be improved? Perhaps they have...

I was at a regular Mass recently for a family member’s anniversary. I’m not Catholic; I left the Church in my early teens after my parents’ marriage broke up and I found that I’d spent more time worrying about them both burning in the eternal fires of Hell, rather than about how the practical logistics of our family were going to work.

No 11- or 12-year-old, already going through the pain of a family split, should ever have to deal with that kind of additional anxiety. This was a long time ago, and I know that things have changed since then.

Yet despite a slight thawing on punishments meted out for relationship break-downs and the like, I never found any reason to go back.

I do, however, respect the importance of other people’s Catholic faith to them. How it brings them comfort, joy and, perhaps most importantly, solace in times of great distress.

Anyone who listened to Mickey Harte’s interview this week with Pat Kenny on Newstalk has to have been impressed by the former Tyrone manager’s commitment to his religion.

It’s the main reason he’s stayed upright since his daughter Michaela was murdered on her honeymoon in January 2011.

Despite recent referendums that might suggest otherwise, and several serious scandals that have rocked the Church, we in Ireland are still a predominantly Catholic country.

In the last census in 2016, 78% of people identified as Catholic, a drop of six points on the previous census in 2011. It’s expected the numbers will fall again, perhaps a lot more dramatically in the next one, set to take place next year.

Indeed, former archbishop of Dublin Diarmuid Martin predicted at the end of 2020 that the ‘post-pandemic Church will look significantly different to the Church we traditionally knew’.

He suggested that many preCovid worshippers will never return to Mass, pointing to the fact there were more civil weddings than Catholic ones recorded in 2020 – just over 42% compared to 34.6% in a church.

So this Universal Synod is coming at a crucial time. Yet if the Mass I attended recently is anything to go by, I’m not sure this current crop of, admittedly ageing, priests quite get where the problems lie.

During the homily, after it was Tragic: Michaela McAreavey, daughter of Mickey Harte explained in great detail what synod was and what it hoped to do, the focus of where the big changes needed to come from was very firmly placed back at the feet of the parishioners.

It was the usual list of complaints; parents needed to participate more than just at times of special occasions, the takings were down 50%; more people needed to volunteer; he was now the only priest in a parish where there used to be three.

The first thought that sprung to mind was: well, ordain the women and let priests marry.

That’s a load off right there, surely? But that’s not going to happen anytime soon.

And it’s a shame, because I think a lot of Catholics in Ireland would like the chance to get more fully immersed in the Church.

Of course there are exceptions, parishes that are lucky enough to have forward-thinking priests who allow and encourage their flock to participate as much as possible, not always with the full approval of those higher up the food chain.

But the ‘old guard’ are still out there, making the Church a difficult place to always like or want to be.

They’re not doing Pope Francis any favours, that’s for sure.

And while his synod, where he promises everyone will be listened to, is a start, a genuine willingness by Church leaders to understand, appreciate and acknowledge that the world has changed around them would help a whole lot more.

‘Keep us from becoming a “museum church’, beautiful but mute, with much past and little future,’ Pope Francis pleaded during the synod launch.

If he expects that to happen, it’s the Church who will have to change, not the people.