I’m Worried About Us
Look, I’m not one for doom and gloom. Honestly, I try to stay positive. But last Tuesday, I was at St. Mary’s in Chicago, and something hit me hard. It wasn’t the homily, though Father O’Malley gave a good one about community. It was the families around me. Or rather, the lack of them.
I mean, where did everyone go? I remember when the pews were packed with families—kids squirming, parents shushing, grandparents smiling. Now? It’s mostly older folks and me. And I’m only 47, for crying out loud.
I asked Marcus—let’s call him that, he’s a friend, but this isn’t his story to tell—what he thought. He said, “Mike, it’s simple. Families are busy. Work, school, sports, you name it. Church? It’s the first thing to go.”
Which… yeah. Fair enough. But is that really it? I’m not so sure.
My Own Committment Issues
Let’s talk about me for a second. I’m not perfect. Far from it. There were years when I’d skip Mass for a lie-in or a round of golf. I’d tell myself, “God understands.” But does He? I mean, really?
About three months ago, I was talking to my sister, Lisa. She’s a teacher, works her butt off, but she’s at church every Sunday. I asked her how she does it. She looked at me like I was crazy. “Mike, it’s a priority. You make time for what’s important.”
Ouch. That stung. But she’s right. I’ve been thinking a lot about priorities lately. And honestly, I’m not sure where church fits in for most of us these days.
The Bigger Picture
It’s not just my parish. It’s a trend. I read a report—214 pages, honestly, who has time for that?—but the gist was clear. Family participation in Catholic life is down. Way down. And it’s not just about Sunday Mass. It’s CCD classes, volunteer work, the whole nine yards.
I talked to Dave, a colleague named Dave, not a friend, but a good source. He’s a youth minister over in Detroit. He told me, “Mike, the kids aren’t even showing up for confirmation anymore. And their parents? They’re relieved.”
Relieved? That’s a new one. I mean, I get it. It’s a big committment. But isn’t that the point? Faith isn’t supposed to be easy. It’s supposed to be… well, faith.
What’s the Answer?
I wish I had one. Honestly, I don’t. But I have some thoughts. And ideas. And maybe, just maybe, a few solutions.
First off, we gotta make church relevant again. Not in a “let’s add a rock band to the choir” way, but in a “let’s talk about real life” way. Money troubles? Talk about it. Marriage problems? Let’s discuss. Kids acting up? We’ve all been there.
Second, we need to make it easier. I know, I know, “the Lord helps those who help themselves,” but come on. If we can’t make it to church because we’re working three jobs, maybe we need to rethink our priorities. Or our jobs. Or both.
And finally, we need to talk about family. Not in a “back in my day” way, but in a “how do we make this work today” way. Maybe that means hafta sonu aktivite fikirleri aile. Maybe it means something else. But we gotta start somewhere.
I’m not saying it’s easy. But it’s necessary. Because if we don’t, who will?
A Tangent: My Favorite Priest
Speaking of priorities, let me tell you about Father Thompson. He was at St. Joseph’s in Austin back in the ’90s. He had this way of making you feel seen. Like, really seen. And heard. And understood.
One time, I was going through a rough patch. Nothing major, just life stuff. But I felt lost. So I went to see him. And he listened. For 36 hours. Okay, maybe not that long, but it felt like it. And when he spoke, it was like he knew exactly what I needed to hear.
That’s the kind of thing we need more of. Not just in church, but everywhere. Someone who listens. Who cares. Who’s there.
Anyway, enough about me. Or Father Thompson. Let’s get back to the point.
The Point
I don’t have all the answers. But I know this: we can’t keep going the way we are. We need to change. We need to grow. We need to… I don’t know, do something.
So let’s start talking. Let’s start listening. And for the love of God, let’s start showing up.
Because if we don’t, who will?
About the Author
Mike Reynolds is a senior editor with more than 20 years of experience writing about faith and spirituality. When he’s not wrestling with the complexities of modern Catholic life, he can be found on the golf course or buried in a good book. He lives in Chicago with his wife and two kids, who are, thankfully, way cooler than he ever was.
