Build a church people want to be part of
POPE Francis recently caused amusement when he erected a sign on the door to his Vatican apartment, reading “No complaining!” and warning that violators suffered from “a syndrome of always feeling like a victim and the consequent reduction in their sense of humour and capacity to solve problems”.
The sign adds: “To become the best of yourself, you must focus on your own potential and not on your limits – so stop complaining and act to change your life for the better.”
Now it would be easy to characterise this as the actions of an elderly eccentric. But Francis knows the paralysing and corrosive effects of negativity.
He is also acutely aware of how pathetic a Church obsessed with naval-gazing is. That is why, when the Pope is asked in his now customary press conferences about issues like female priests and other inward-looking concerns, he is always dismissive.
The leaders of organisations like the Association of Catholic Priests – which undoubtedly has a valuable role to play in advocating for the rights of priests – speak about issues like female ordination and married priests as if these are the reasons why many Irish Catholics stay away from the practice of their faith.
They evidently fail to notice that the Church of Ireland – with both married and female priests – has weekly attendance figures of just 15pc. Most reliable surveys of Catholics put the national figure at around 40pc.
But before Catholics start getting triumphalist, the statistics are only going one way and we need to consider the piercing question of why so many people who choose to describe themselves as Catholics in the census don’t feel drawn to get together with their fellow Catholics on a Sunday morning. There is no easy answer. Undoubtedly, the scandals have had an impact. Faith has been shaken, but reaction to the scandals also likely masked a deeper drift away from the Church.
When you ask sincere people why they don’t feel inclined to go to Mass, the answer usually boils down to their conviction that there is nothing there for them. To put it another way, they left because they felt unnourished.
Spirituality hasn’t gone out of fashion. If anything, bookshelves in high-street stores indicate that the thirst to live a meaningful inner life is stronger than ever.
Classes in mindfulness are booming and even in small rural towns one will find courses in eastern spirituality.
Many Irish Catholics are finding solace and sustenance in nonluxury Christian traditions that, when you penetrate the depths of Christianity, are the same quintessential insights as those that lie at the heart of the Catholic tradition.
Church people will often complain about this trend, without asking the serious question as to why so many Catholics are so unaware of what is of the essence of their own tradition.
It becomes normal to criticise those who are seeking elsewhere, but this is precisely where the Pope’s advice to “stop complaining and act” comes in.
Archbishop Diarmuid Martin was right when he observed recently that an obsession with clerical solutions won’t revitalise the Church in Ireland.
The reform of the Church here has to be fundamentally spiritual.
Tinkering around with structures won’t respond to the felt need that many Catholics are expressing in other traditions.
Too often, Irish Catholics in the past have experienced faith as an external imposition, rather than an inner journey of self-discovery.
Mass was something to ‘get’, rather than to celebrate.
They experienced the Church as a place of rules and regulations, rather than the ‘field hospital’ of which Pope Francis speaks.
But what would a spiritual reform look like?
Well, for starters, it would be a Church that was able to speak to the needs of contemporary society.
A Church, yes, that would speak up on important issues of public policy, but also a Church that could be a balm to people who feel like they have lost their sense of equilibrium.
I visited the island of Lough Derg in Co Donegal last year. I expected penance (with pilgrims asked to fast, keep vigil all night and walk around the island barefoot – a spa retreat it is not), but instead, what I found was people who – like countless generations in human history – were earnestly searching.
Some people had experienced brokenness, while others were hoping for inspiration to keep going and still others were not quite sure why they were there.
However, they all had one thing in common: a felt need to spiritually connect.
True reform in the Church always comes from the margins, rather than the centre. A spiritual reform of the Church here will not come by way of a diktat from Maynooth or endless reviews of structures, but by families and communities coming together to talk and reflect about what is important to them and ask where God and spirituality fits into this search.
The Church needs leaders who can facilitate this, leaders who are unafraid to grapple with the difficult questions that people have.
Faith is a journey rather than a destination, a Church that can humbly accompany people on this journey will be one that is renewed and reformed to its very core.
So let’s take the Pope’s advice: let’s stop complaining and get on with it.
We need to consider the piercing question of why so many who describe themselves as Catholics in the census don’t feel drawn to get together with their fellow Catholics on a Sunday morning