A model of the Church: from the view-point of a simple parish family.

Last year Catholic Insight brought several articles discussing "new models" of the Church which propose changes in "doing" liturgy as well as changes in architecture (the place of the tabernacle). See March 2001, pp. 16-23.

Fr. Robitaille, a Toronto priest retiring from parish work this year, presents his views on how a parish and its liturgy should express themselves. Editor.

Years of living and serving the people of God in a variety of parish settings gives one a sharp opinion of what the model of parish life should be. Many priests have left the active priesthood, often times because of discouragement; many have suffered extreme exhaustion and stress; many have given up or taken refuge in alcohol and its relatives.

Discouragement is often due to the many forms of ignorance encountered, sometimes abysmal; often it comes from the lack of co-operation within the parish house, and/or the parish family.

Perhaps most of this is due to the fact that we fail to find ways to get the message to the people who need it. Also, we cannot leave aside the effects of modern life, the single child syndrome, households wherein technology creates couch potatoes and material wealth that provides ample opportunity for excuses like riding lessons, hockey, week-end skiing and southern holidays to justify absence.

Apparently the Cure of Ars met much the same excuses over a century ago, and out of that village came a spiritual revolution based on his own holiness, his insistence on daily catechism, love for the Mass, and the reality of sin. Parish life needs them all. Holiness, a gift from God, but the others are the meat of parish practice and the foundation of parish vitality.

Simple ignorance we meet all the time: children at first Reconciliation who cannot say the Hail Mary; candidates for Confirmation who do not know the Act of Contrition; adults in a group of twenty, who are sore pressed to put together the Ten Commandments. And then we meet extreme cases, like the one who said: "God is like Santa Claus, that is, just a name to make the children behave."

The faithful need instruction, such as provided by the Curd of Ars who spent an hour a day teaching a simple catechism to the adults. Perhaps we should scrap catechism lessons and sacramental preparation for the children and hand it over to the parents; then insist that they study the lessons, that they attend Mass, and that they then hand it on to the children.

What shall we teach them? No, not the psychology-based lessons of modern teachers, but rather the simple facts of what Christ said and did. Let us accept only that the Bible is a simple, sincere attempt to record what Jesus said and did, then make His words the basis of all lessons--instead of the "experiences of my life."

This will bring home the reality of sin and hell. Christ did not mince words when he said, "Fear him who can cast you body and soul into eternal hellfire" (Matt 10:28); "it is better for you to enter into life maimed than, two hands, to go into eternal hellfire" (Mark 9:42); "Capernaum...you shall be thrown down into hell" (Lk 10:15).

The reality of sin and human responsibility must be brought home. "Let him be master" (Gen 1:26). Master means responsibility. The world and much of modern psychiatry explains sin as weakness, illness or aberration. The world extols violence and infidelity, while we must be the prophet of God speaking against such. We must preach against sin, and perhaps bring back the "fire and brimstone" preachers rather than the affirming exaltation. Only when there is a sense of sin will there be a desire to reform, a move to confess.

Such education in simple morality can only be done from the pulpit. People do not flock to adult Christian education. And given the time limits expected in the modern pulpit, it could take seven years of ten-minute efforts to cover the basic ground, if we allow for a little Christmas and Easter joy. And one consequence would be a return to long hours in the confessional, making God's mercy known.

Tabernacle and liturgy of the Mass

Holy Mother Church repeats over and over again that the Eucharist is the sum and source of all Christian life. But how can I expect the children to genuflect to a tabernacle that is barely visible; if people enter the Church and cannot readily see the tabernacle, why should they think they are in the unique presence of God?

If Mass is a conversation with the people, so that we face them, are we not losing the importance of His presence? True, the opening Penitential Rite and the Liturgy of the Word are addressed to the people, so the priest should be facing the people. But the preface and Eucharistic prayers are addressed to God in every little paragraph; so the priest should be standing in the midst of his people praying with them to God. This is the implication of Canons 204-207 which speak of the Church as the people of God, among whom some are called to be priests. We should be standing among the people ideally, not "presiding over" them. Then the great Amen will appear as a great AMEN, the people echoing the voice of their spokesman, and the OUR of the Our Father will have more meaning.

The altar can remain separated from the Tabernacle, though I see no reason why, but the priest should be standing with the people, not facing them. Perhaps the altar of Sacrifice should be a small one amid the people--but then the people in a large Church would never see it.

Educate parents

If people are involved in the Sunday worship, they can be educated. And then would disappear the parents who want their child baptized, but see no reason why they should go to Church; or the practice of dropping off the children for "Catechism" and picking them up on time, but ignoring the Mass they should be attending during Catechism. It would do away with the emphasis on gowns, parties and stretch limousines, as if they were the meaning of the Sacraments.

This sense of "parish life" should be particularly evident in Seminary life; yes, we need intellectual abilities but they are not pre-eminent. The sense of belonging, the need for unity with Rome, the achieving of common parish practices, all based on the Eucharist, are central to the sense of fraternity and co-operation parish priests need. Priests need priests. Without this sense of being a family united by the Eucharist, each one can become disheartened and ripe for spiritual and moral collapse. Celibacy is a great asset but it needs a firm buttress to keep the idealism of the candidate from descent into horror. Then, "with joy will I go unto the altar of God".

When people are full of the knowledge of Christ, of the Church He established and of her ways, they will seek to express it in prayer, campaigns, involvement, organization and even "new" devotions. But prayer efforts as such, or campaigns, organizations, or "new devotions" will not lead them to Christ and His ways; they will lead only to a new trend, or an excuse to consider involvement as valuable as the Sacrament and Sacrifice of Eucharist.

Of course, such an approach has its downside, disgruntled parents saying "That is not the way it used to be", and a regular stream of letters to the powers that be. But the consolations are invaluable. Like the young couple who came back, after I insisted they must be going to Church, to say how happy they were that I had insisted and neither one knew that the other had spoken to me. Or the non-Catholic spouse-to-be who sings the praises of the priest who explained everything and the reasons why. Or the lad who said to his Mother, "I wish they had a class like that for my Confirmation" after overhearing the approach used for his sister. And the non-Catholic mother who said, "He has never missed Mass since."

But best of all, never to be forgotten, is the school principal after I insisted his daughter must be going to Church if she was to receive First Communion. She made everything clear by saying: "You can't tell me that I must take my daughter to Church, I am free to do what I want." True, she was, yet it was a joy to see them at Mass, not only until First Communion time, but for years afterward.

I will put my hope in God.