FROM THE EDITOR
"It's Time To Stand Up For What's Right"
Renovation disputes sign of a deeper problem
(Sept./Oct. 2000)

BY MICHAEL S. ROSE

THREE PARISHIONERS FROM St. John the Baptist Church in Northern Cambria, Penn., stood in their church recently, watching workmen in steel-toed boots straddle their beautiful altar. They were ripping, tearing, and smashing the parish’s 100-year-old stone altar with crowbars, sledge hammers and electric saws as their pastor looked on with approval. The contractors, like thieves in the night, reappeared over and over again, in the early morning hours and in late evenings after dark, when they were least expected. The altar finally came to rest in a dumpster outside the church along with a bag of garbage and two old tires. (See article p. 8.)

An altar sitting in a rented dumpster serves as an unfortunate symbol; it is a sign of the times. Unfortunately, as we have seen in recent years alone, such incidents are not isolated; sad to say, this is typical.

What are parishioners of such a parish to do?

As Rick Westhoven of St. Patrick’s Church in Grand Rapids, Oh., put it: "It’s time to stand up for what’s right." (see article, p. 20). For far too many years Catholics have stood by and watched their parishes being driven into the ground—architecture, liturgy, and all.

At the same time though, at an increasing number of parishes, some pastors (most often the younger ones) are decidedly returning their parishes to orthodoxy (right-thinking) and orthopraxis (right-practicing). I know, for instance, of countless parishes that are engaged in "re-renovation," that is, restoring the tabernacles and crucifixes to their sanctuaries, returning statues to their previously prominent locations, re-installing kneelers, and so forth—in short, moving away from the failed experiments of past decades in favor of a more traditional and timeless approach. Along with that, orthodoxy in liturgy returns; public and private devotions such as Eucharistic adoration reappear. The same then follows in catechesis, education, faith formation, and so forth. These parishes are invariably transformed into vibrant communities that have been truly "renewed." From this flows the love, grace and mercy that leads to personal holiness, ecclesial community and social justice.

Alack! Other parishes languish through continued experimentation—in liturgy, in architecture, and all the rest. But many Catholics have had enough. They have decided to fight—a spiritual battle—for their church and their faith.

Age of the laity
"Empowerment of the laity," a phrase coined by church reformers of the post-Vatican II years, has come back to haunt those same reformers. In years past, this "empowerment" was touted in order that the laity could support newfangled, liberal causes in the Church—causes initiated largely by priests (or ex-priests) and religious, those who were very little in touch with the lives of the laity. In truth, the laity was more enslaved than empowered, in the sense that they felt obligated—for the most part—to go along with the whims of their pastors (bishops, liturgists, etc.), all in the name of "the spirit of Vatican II."

The times have changed. Now, truly "empowered" (mostly by hindsight), the laity in many parishes are deciding to defend themselves against their lawful pastors out of obedience to the Church, in defense of not only their church buildings, but more importantly in defense of their faith and the faith of their children.

As I write this, many a stormy parish affair is brewing, widely publicized by the secular media. As you might guess, not a little controversy is involved in Northern Cambria. But believe it or not, other parishes are embroiled in even stickier disputes. In downtown Phoenix, Az., for example, at the mainly Hispanic Immaculate Heart Church, parishioners are calling for the resignation of both their pastor and bishop (see p. 9). At St. Patrick’s in Grand Rapids, Oh, parishioners are calling for the same.

As is the case with many parishes that are pushing through unpopular and unwise renovation plans, the problems run much deeper than church architecture and furniture arrangement. These are simply the most obvious outward manifestations of the crisis of faith.

At St. Francis Xavier Church, in Petoskey, Mich., a nearly two-year-old renovation dispute continues. Covered amply in the news media by the Detroit Free Press, the Traverse-City Record Eagle, the Petoskey News-Review, the Toledo Blade, and various television stations, the dispute has pitted the pastor and a small minority of parishioners (and, of course, a liturgical consultant) against nearly a thousand parishioners who have stood up to be counted as being opposed to the renovation and the deceitful methods used to facilitate the renovation work. The "resistance" publishes a newsletter, hands out yard signs and bumper stickers, holds monthly forum meetings and members withhold their contributions from the renovation fund and the weekly collection basket.

Here too at St. Francis, the renovation process and proposals are an overt manifestation of a much deeper problem—a spiritual problem, a crisis of faith. This parish, and countless others is being "deconstructed"—for lack of a better term— from the inside out, from the leadership down. All of parish life is being affected.

It’s not just a matter of statues and sightlines, tabernacles and kneelers; it pertains to the grave matter of faith. And thank God more and more Catholics are taking courage, speaking out, praying intensely and effecting change in their parish communities and in their own lives. The sacrifices they are making now will bear much fruit in the years to come. No doubt!

[ St. Catherine Review ]