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Cover
story Great parishes
By TOM ROBERTS
NCR Staff
Paul Wilkes went to the Church of the Presentation Parish in Upper
Saddle River, N.J., in 1997 to give a pre-Lenten mission. What he received was
a whopping dose of inspiring church life and the idea for an ambitious project
to find excellent parishes.
He has found them in abundance.
The noted Catholic author, who has written extensively on
religion, particularly Catholic issues, had a hunch that Presentation was not
the only exciting Catholic community out there. Wilkes, who first wrote about
his visit to Presentation in the April 11, 1997, issue of NCR, in effect
has since parlayed a common Catholic story -- the disgruntled parishioner in
search of a better place -- into a massive national search for church
excellence.
Only when I returned to my home parish and a certain sadness
came over me did I realize the dramatic difference between that parish and my
own, he writes in the introduction to the book that resulted from his
search. Excellent Catholic Parishes: The Guide to Best Places and
Practices, published by Paulist Press, Mahwah, N.J., is due out next
month.
A companion volume, Excellent Protestant Congregations,
which Wilkes also wrote, will be published in April by
Westminster/John Knox Press.
Those volumes, in turn, will be the basis for a Pastoral Summit, a
gathering of leading Catholic and Protestant pastors and lay leaders from
across the country May 30-June 1 in New Orleans.
There were surely other parishes like that one in New
Jersey, I assumed, and over the next year, with the generous support of a grant
from the Lilly Endowment, I and two researchers set out to find them, he
wrote. The Lilly Endowment is a philanthropic organization headquartered in
Indianapolis that regularly funds research into religious topics.
Wilkes and his researchers in the Parish/Congregation Study found
excellence in parishes large and small, Hispanic and African-American, rural
and urban, with resident priests and without, conservative to moderate to
liberal and everything in between -- 300 in all. Wilkes makes no claim that
those 300 are the only excellent parishes. There are, after all, nearly
20,000 parishes in the United States and, by most predictions, that number will
continue to grow. Although the priest shortage and demographic shifts and other
forces have acted to dramatically reshape parish life in recent decades, most
Catholics still identify the parish as their fundamental religious
community.
Parish is the place
While approaches to spirituality proliferate in contemporary
culture, the parish remains the place most Catholics go for
sustenance, writes Wilkes, an active Catholic and eucharistic minister.
In fact, two-thirds of all American Catholics are registered
parishioners. And while one can find a great variety of religious
expression in parishes, the people in the pews are not as polarized as
one might think. They are looking for -- albeit in many different ways -- a
transcendent connection to God and guidance for their lifes journey, a
place where they will be at once nurtured and prodded.
What he has compiled, he believes, are compelling examples of
excellent churches and, whats more, they all exhibit points of excellence
that those involved in the project are convinced can be reproduced.
If Wilkes took a common Catholic wish and went national with it,
he also did it in a way that most of us can understand at a visceral level.
This is not a sociologists treatise. This is a record of a pilgrims
search.
The parishes that made Wilkes final list were discovered
through conversations with experts in parish renewal, Catholic newspaper
editors and specialists in various aspects of parish life who were asked to
recommend the best parishes they knew. The publisher has embargoed the list
until after the book is published, scheduled sometime next month. The list also
will be available after publication on the projects Web site:
www.pastoralsummit.org.
In the book, eight of the 300 Catholic parishes are profiled: Our
Lady Help of Christians, Newton, Mass.; St. Pius X, El Paso, Texas; Catholic
Area Parishes, a consolidated group of five parishes in Benson, DeGraff,
Danvers, Clontarf and Murdock in Southwestern Minnesota; Holy Family,
Inverness, Ill.; St. Peter Claver, New Orleans, La.; St. Francis of Assisi,
Portland, Ore.; St. Francis of Assisi, Wichita, Kan.; St. Mark, Boise, Idaho.
In the eight profiles, at least, we meet these parishes at a deeper level, in
the stream of their own history and that of the wider church. Wilkes, who
teaches classes on creative nonfiction and documentary filmmaking at the
University of North Carolina at Wilmington, is a wonderful storyteller. He has
written for The New Yorker, The New York Times
Magazine and is the author of a number of books, including, The Seven
Secrets of Successful Catholics and Beyond the Walls: Monastic
Wisdom for Everyday Life.
One of the parishes profiled, St. Pius X in El Paso, is a mostly
Hispanic parish, bustling with lay ministries and on the cutting edge of
changing life in the poor neighborhoods surrounding the church:
The sun slips behind the imposing bank buildings and high-rise
hotels that flank Interstate 10, busy now with the beginning of afternoon
rush-hour traffic. The last of its blazing shards, streaming across a broad
expanse of plaza just a few blocks away, strikes and set ablaze a bronze statue
of Jesus Christ. It depicts not one of the usual images of Christ, the
triumphant savior or the bleeding crucified one, but the peasant Christ, with a
rough-woven serape over his shoulders, a walking stick in one hand, a small bag
in the other. [It] seems an anomaly here in this quiet sanctuary, yet so close
to the world of commerce and the bustling Bassett Center Mall.
As Fr. Arturo Banuelas stands beneath this at-once unassuming
and imposing figure, the soft sounds of tumbling water from a three-tier
fountain impart a sure peace to the place. Behind him sits the stately,
mission-style stucco church of St. Pius X, now burnished to gold by the setting
Texas sun.
El Paso is a border town -- between the United States and
Mexico, he begins. Hispanics are on the borders of the Anglo world;
to be a Catholic is to stand at the edge of a secular society. Even today, the
church is still on the border between the old ways and new ways, the
traditional church of Sunday devotion versus the church that we carry into the
world each day. So, it was appropriate that our Border Christ would
be the symbol of our church -- always on the move, not ever at home, willing to
go where he is needed, wearing the simplest of clothes, carrying no more than
he needed but, because of his marginalized status, capable of entering all
cultures and bridging all people as one.
Fr. Banuelas modest assessment of his parish and its
signature statue belie what has happened here. St. Pius X has wedded ancient
Hispanic values and faith with a Vatican II vision of a modern parish, infusing
each with new meaning. St. Pius X -- or San Pio X to its largely bilingual
congregation -- is considered not only one of the most outstanding Hispanic
parishes in America, but one of the best, period. With hundreds of its
members solidly trained as lay leaders, new ministries springing up virtually
weekly and liturgies that appeal to everyone from los jovenes to los
majores de edad, this parish indeed serves as a ray of hope for
Hispanics.
As well as for the church at large.
As I spend time at St. Pius, talk to parishioners and witness
some of their 39 different ministries, it quickly becomes clear that this
parish has thrived for two primary reasons. The first is the positive,
willing-to-risk attitude of its pastor. The second is a concerted lay training
program based both in periodic parish evangelical retreats that lead people
into small Christian communities
and Tepeyac, a comprehensive lay
institute that provides theological underpinnings for
ministry.
In the final analysis, Wilkes and his team came up with 16 traits
common to the parishes they deem excellent. These somewhat eclectic
characteristics are grouped under the categories of approach,
institutional life, community, the work and spirituality. (See accompanying
box.)
The book also includes a Points of Excellence Index
that matches up some of the parishes selected with six areas: worship,
education, evangelization, outreach, spirituality/inreach and organization.
Though the parish project began with lay people and is being
carried out by lay people, one aspect of the profiles in the book was telling:
Often at the heart of a good parish is an innovative priest, open to the
possibilities of lay leadership and ministry. Ordained clergy, both hierarchy
and parishioners understand, are not easily duplicated. And clergy like those
in Wilkes profiles -- priests who see their role as essentially
empowering a community to act and to raise up its own leaders -- may be in
diminishing supply these days. But where they exist, unusual attitudes prevail,
and some unusual things happen.
For instance, Fr. Banuelas tells Wilkes at one point, I am a
dinosaur. Lay people are the future of the church. This is no quick fix. This
is a long haul. And we need to make changes, especially for Hispanic Catholics.
We are losing them to other churches, because in the Catholic church, instead
of honoring and utilizing their rich faith and heritage, we are still trying to
assimilate them, make them into Eurocentric Catholics. They are not.
Later, in discussing the place of priests, he says that clergy
must break down the barriers with the priest up here and the
miserable people down there. He sees, instead, a new vision
of church where people are equals with the priests and the priests will
lead, but they will always listen to the wisdom and the breadth of experience
of the people. We must welcome them -- that is what other churches are doing,
and people flock to them -- and not put up barricades.
Said another pastor, Dont say much and the people will
let you know their needs. Then set about to meet them.
Parish can do more
And yet another priest referred to a female administrator in a
parish without a full-time priest as the future of the church. With
a lay person in charge, he said, you have much more lay involvement, so
the result is actually a parish that is able to do far more, not less, because
of not having a priest here.
If the Second Vatican Council (1962-65) was the focus of reform in
the churchs modern era, then in places like St. Pius X and other parishes
where the primary membership is nonwhite and non-European in background, there
is a renewal occurring within the renewal.
In such settings, the reawakening of faith and discoveries of the
possibilities of community and culture can be simply but powerfully
transforming.
St. Peter Claver is, by Wilkes account, in a poor and
desperate area of New Orleans. The story of transformation there, while deeply
interior and personal for certain, is also measurable in the neighborhood.
Crime is down, people in the parish organize to fight crime and prostitution,
the school is filled with kids who belong to the parish, lay run ministry is
abundant and the parish runs a strong adult education program. New hope is in
the air.
Transformation was also visible one day when a bishop came
visiting. St. Peter Claver did not jump to take the usual official instructions
on all the liturgical niceties the bishop desired. This parish, Fr. Michael
Jacques told his flock, never put on airs and didnt need to for the
bishop. It would simply be itself.
When the bishop arrived, he was greeted with fierce drumming
and elegant dancing, welcomed as the chieftan he was. And by
the end of the ceremony, tears streamed down his face. He was
choked with emotion and admitted that he had never, in all his parish visits,
had such an experience. Such confidence and purpose, such community, did not
come quickly or easily.
Fr. Jacques, a native of Maine, was white. He had started in
religious life as an Edmundite brother, serving for a time as a cook. His had
all the earmarks of an inauspicious religious career, and his ordination to the
priesthood was almost a fluke. When Fr. Jacques arrived at St. Peters [in
1984] and looked around his new, rundown assignment, he saw not devastation but
potential, not black Catholics who needed to be more Catholic but, rather,
needed to be more black -- and Catholic. He approached his new
assignment almost as if he had been sent to a foreign country. He needed to
understand the culture of the people of St. Peter Claver, the people on the
dismal blocks surrounding the parish, the people who had once proudly attended
but who now rarely returned to their old neighborhood. As in an earlier era, he
went door to door talking to the people. They told him of the problems:
Absentee landlords ran buildings into the ground, then abandoned them; the
parish school was terrible; streets were unsafe; drug traffic proliferated.
Hope was considered a foolish concept.
After familiarizing himself with the area and its residents, Fr.
Jacques traveled to Xavier, New Orleans premier black university, to
educate himself about a people and a culture mainstream Catholicism knew very
little about. I had Avery Dulles five models of the church --
herald, sacrament, institution, servant, community -- in mind, but to make that
happen at St. Peters, I needed to be schooled in a whole new theology,
not Eurocentric but Afrocentric, Fr. Jacques recalls. Among his teachers
was the legendary black nun, Sr. Thea Bowman. Slowly, he began to put into
practice what he learned.
Despite his efforts, parishioners regarded him somewhat warily
during the first two years; he did not receive a single invitation to a wedding
or baptism reception. He appalled older members of the church by incorporating
dollops of African music and dance into the liturgy. For them, adaptation to
the white world was the key to success.
You have to realize how unique this was for our
community, says Alena Boucree, 38. Our culture had never been
integrated into the church. It was absolutely separate, as if it was so
inferior that it shouldnt be allowed to taint this pristine, uniform
Catholic image. Father Michael was showing us something about ourselves we
didnt quite realize was there. After all, the Saints Perpetua and
Felicity, whom we pray to in every Mass, are not only women; they are black
women. Most of us didnt know that.
It is not just adaptation to culture that is driving change in the
church. Some of the change is coming from within, out of necessity.
The prayer of the faithful heard at St. Francis of Assisi Parish
in Portland, Ore., includes: We pray for Pope John Paul; our archbishop,
John Vlazny; and our pastor, Valerie.
As Wilkes explains it, Valerie Chapman, a divorced mother of
six, may have the title of administrator in the Official Catholic Directory,
but to her parishioners, to the priests who come here to preside at the
liturgies, and to the homeless men and women who come to the parish dining hall
each day for dinner, she is most decidedly the person in charge.
As Valerie herself puts it: I was made for this job. What
better training for running a poor, inner-city parish than being a single
mother, raising six kids on a shoestring?
Chapman is indicative of both an enormous problem facing the
church in the United States -- the growing priest shortage -- and the answer to
that problem. And the problem, in Wilkes estimation, will be one of the
determining factors in the shape of the future church.
The number of priestless parishes has grown steadily in recent
years. In 1990, the number of priestless parishes was up to 210. Today it is
estimated that 17 percent, or more than 325 parishes, are without a full-time
priest.
Those statistics, no matter how ardent the campaigns to attract
new generations of priests and nuns, are forever changing the face of the
church. Chapman, for instance, is one of thousands of lay people who have
completed religious studies and who will be joined by the 30,000 now in
training. It is they, writes Wilkes, who will be responsible for most of
the day-to-day activities of the church, for the training of ministers and
education of the young, as the numbers of Catholics increases and the number of
ordained clergy continues to drop.
Two priests and three sisters oversee the workings of five
parishes in Benson, DeGraff, Danvers, Clontarf and Murdock, Minn. Catholics
there were not enthusiastic when conditions mandated that five parishes
consolidate their operations. Twenty-two years later, their thinking has
changed. The way it worked out is simply amazing, one woman told
Wilkes. We really got the best of all worlds, better programs. Because we
could do one well rather than five half-baked, and five pastors instead of
one.
Patience of farm life
Urban crowding is not the problem here, where church leaders face
the task of coordinating programs for a thousand families scattered across some
400 square miles. Seeking unity -- of purpose, of work, and in prayer -- is a
principal task.
And if the pace here still reflects the patience of farm life, it
also means more time to consider innovative ways to conduct parish life.
For instance, writes Wilkes, So that no one assumes that
father has a more important role than sister in these
five parishes, both priests and nuns receive the same salary.
A high degree of lay involvement is required, and that
shows in the attitudes of priests and people. According to Fr. Steven Verheist,
pastor of St. Francis in Benson, While I am the presider at the liturgy,
it is the assembly that is important. They are the people of God; from this
extended family comes the Spirit. And they need not be territorial; shared
resources mean that everyone can benefit. And it has caught on. Ive heard
it over and over again from our parishioners: These used to be
priests parishes -- now these are peoples parishes. That is a high
compliment; that is ownership.
In real-life terms, it means, perhaps, what Tim Matthiesen,
operator of a Do-Mats Supermarket, feels: I feel like leaping into the
air when I leave church. I do. I actually do. Something is happening here, and
we all can feel it.
His claim points to the universal reality tying these stories
together. The feeling that something extraordinary is happening -- whether it
be rediscovery of a prayer life, a new involvement in social ministry, finding
acceptance or simply experiencing a sense of being home -- is the
force that seems to keep these parishes engaged in and essential to the lives
of their parishioners.
There exists no best or perfect parish, concludes
Wilkes. The parishes profiled continually work on becoming a place of
refuge and welcome, a spiritual fountain where the thirsty might drink, a
replica of the kingdom of God on earth.
In a telephone interview from his home in North Carolina, Wilkes
said he had come away from his research with the conviction that all Catholic
parishes could be doing what the great ones do.
He concludes in his book that what is lacking in the Catholic
church in this country is not priests or resources, but vision, energy
and hope. It is not an oppressive church structure that hampers parishes,
nor are they hindered by uninterested laity.
The majority of our parishes are simply not reading the
signs of the times. While this may seem a highly secularized culture, its very
fragmentation, mobility and institution-averse nature find their antidote in
the Catholic parish. Here one may find built-in community, acceptance, safety,
growth and spirituality. Here is a path to God, to holiness and true happiness,
both in tending to ones needs and those of others.
Tom Roberts e-mail is troberts@natcath.org
National Catholic Reporter, January 26,
2001
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