November 20, 2009
 
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| Why Are They Leaving? An InsideCatholic Symposium |
| by InsideCatholic Staff and Friends |
| 3/11/08 |
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On this question of why Catholics leave: The first reason pertains to those Catholics who leave for Christian sects, usually of the Evangelical/Fundamentalist variety. It was my friend and former boss Karl Keating who convincingly put forward to me the idea that these folks do not leave, on the whole, because (as is often claimed) they were snubbed by their pastor or uninspired by the lack of liturgical dynamism or "fellowship" in Catholic parish life. Rather they leave, he said, because through some experience with a sect and its members they are led to experience for the first time an intellectual connection with Christianity.
They may hear a Scripture verse placed into the larger context of salvation history, and for a brief second glimpse God's revealed word as something majestic and profoundly true -- instead of as a collection of Hallmark sentiments best used as a jumping-off point for mundane, anecdotal sermonettes. They may hear a "testimony" on sin and conversion, and be bowled over by the radical nature of Christian faith -- apprehending for the first time that it demands a totally new (and often scandalous to the world) series of life choices. Or they may simply encounter theological conviction in an unadulterated form -- be told unflichingly by someone that Jesus is wholly divine, or the Bible is inerrant, or paradise and hellfire are real and one of them awaits each of us, and that this truth has unavoidable implications -- and say to themselves, I want more of this. I want a religion that makes a statement about the way things really are.
The Catholic Church makes that statement in its fullness, of course. But for a couple generations now it has failed conspicuously on the local level to put it to the flock (in ways and for reasons that would be a subject for another day, but still -- let him with ears to hear, hear). And so parishes have emptied while the little Bible chapels swelled.
For the second reason I refer to Catholic sociologist David Carlin, whose wondrous book The Decline and Fall of the Catholic Church in America explains not so much Catholic attrition to the born-agains, but the loss of Catholics simply to irreligiosity.
Carlin paints a picture of an American Catholic Church that, after two centuries of manning the "Tridentine ramparts" against its Protestant foes in what had traditionally been a hostile land, by the 1960s finally considered itself in a strong-enough position -- both as a religion and as full participant in the national culture -- to drop some of its defenses and engage its old enemy on genial terms. But when it did so, it was wholly unprepared to discover that its enemy was no longer Protestantism but secularism,which had already hollowed out the doctrines and practices of mainline Protestant churches, and was now being invited to infect Catholicism -- through contact with modernistic Scripture scholarship, mischievous moral theology, corrupted social sciences, horizontal liturgism, and the generalized rebellion against tradition and authority that marked the era. Thus did liberal Christianity -- which Carlin characterizes as low-doctrine, anti-miraculous, morally malleable, and geocentric in its aims -- enter the Church through the front door and go on to leave its mark on Catholic life and practice.
How does this bear on the question of why Catholics leave the Church? Because liberal Christianity, being essentially a working compromise with secularism, cannot sustain itself. This is observable both as a historical phenomenon (each time Christianity has engaged in compromise with secularism, it has emerged less distinctively Christian than it was before) and also in reflection upon human nature. For religions retain believers, and especially those most fervent and active believers, when their doctrines and practices are distinct, complex, and engaging -- and lose believers when they're not.
Put into concrete terms: A Catholicism that sets before its believers a broad and strict test of moral and doctrinal adherence will keep its members. A Catholicism that is reduced (and often it is so, ironically, in order not to scare folks away) to "being a good person" will lose them. Because -- and this is the nub of it -- one can be a good person without going to church.
On this point, the mainline Protestants have been somewhat more advanced than we. But now the Catholic children of the children of the 1960s, unburdened by conviction or even mere nostalgia or guilty habit, are figuring it out in droves.
Todd M. Aglialoro is the editor of Sophia Institute Press and a columnist and blogger for InsideCatholic.com.
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While I love the Church and have grown closer to it over the past decade, I think that our leaders have failed by trying too hard. What I mean is that we have dumbed-down the liturgy, offered (already out-of-date) "pop" music, decreased the number of Holy Days of Obligation, de-emphasized confession, let the standards for Catholic education slip, and eliminated Catholic markers like "no meat on Friday." The thought was that these things were hard and were causing people to pull away from the Church. What we are finding instead is that many people lost the sense of identity as a Catholic and left the Church. Others were driven to adopt a more traditional form of Catholicism, just to retain that which should have been there all along. Now we have less of an identity and more division within the Church.
I personally know two converts who came to the Church precisely because they studied the Catholic approach to birth control, realized that this was indeed the proper Christian position, and continued reading Catholic teachings until they overcame their previous bias. Yet how often does an average Catholic hear about the Church's teaching on birth control? I also know a couple who delayed entering the Church for almost a decade due to the sloppy teachings put to them in RCIA class. The nun who taught the course the first time they attended equated all religions and said there was no difference; the key was just to be a good person. Of course, they had been perfectly content as good people in their Baptist church. They were seeking more. As they explain it, they came to the Catholic Church in spite of RCIA, not because of it. I also have a very good friend who is a traditionalist Catholic. He used to be a left-leaning "social justice" Catholic, and he attended a Mass where the priest let him "drop a needle" on any record he chose. Later, he attended the oh-so-groovy guitar Masses that were offered in most Catholic parishes. My friend, quite a connoisseur of modern music, told me that there had to be something very wrong in any Church that played such poor music. He eventually made his way to one of those groups that was always on the fringe of being schismatic. (I'm hoping that recent developments in Rome will help solidify the relationship.) Examples could go on, but the main point is that I think the Church needs to ask more of us, not less. Most people are pretty strong when they are assigned a task and know that others expect them to meet it. Most of us tend, however, not to be particularly good at self-motivation. I'd like to see the bishops pick up the challenge, ask more of the people, and develop a more robust Catholicism. Ronald J. Rychlak is the associate dean and MDLA Professor of Law at the University of Mississippi School of Law. He is the author of Hitler, the War, and the Pope (2000) and Righteous Gentiles (2005).
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The closest you ever get to a poll in Scripture occurs in the memorable exchange between Pilate and the crowd concerning the fate of Jesus and Barabbas in Mark's Gospel. Given the signal failure of democracy, along with all the other forms of government and philosophy, it is not terribly surprising that the New Testament does not concern itself overmuch with things like Pew Surveys. The popularity of the Church has ever waxed and waned, and the reasons for that are all over the map. Sometimes the Church is popular because it is right; sometimes it is unpopular because it is right. Sometimes a saint is beloved because he is a saint; sometimes a saint is martyred because he is a saint.
Add to that the fact that the Church is, in this world, a hospital for sinners before she is ever a shrine for saints, and you have a recipe for ensuring that poll results are always going to tell you . . . well, not much that is useful in terms of deciding what to do next.
At present, the Pew Survey tells us that "the Roman Catholic Church has lost more members than any faith tradition because of affiliation swapping . . . . While nearly one in three Americans were raised Catholic, fewer than one in four say they're Catholic today. That means roughly 10 percent of all Americans are ex-Catholics." Knowing this, we should . . . what?
Well, using the Pontius Pilate method for spiritual navigation, we should listen to the loudest voices screaming advice and make the Church more Episcopalian by embracing various trendy leftisms such as approval of gay marriage, easing up on abortion, and all those other pelvic issues, and generally stop offering any challenges to whatever it is the New York Times says we should be doing and thinking. What some screamers want is a gospel of license, rather than a gospel of grace.
Or, if we apply to other sectors in the Culture Wars, we should Hannitize the Church by kicking butt and taking names, seeing to it that all that mercy crap is flushed out along with all the other sob-sister stuff that makes the Church a haven for weak-kneed Peace-n-Justice types. What some screamers want is a gospel of law and judgment, rather than a gospel of grace.
The point is, in both cases, we think we should be navigating by poll, which is precisely the way the apostles never thought to proceed.
Not that they were oblivious to the needs of the flock. Indeed, much of our present predicament seems to me to proceed precisely because of our bishops' stunning obliviousness to the needs of the flock and their over-attention to world methods of navigation. When the flock cried for justice in the matter of the rape of their children, our bishops heard only the counsel of lawyers and psychologists, not the bleedin'-obvious testimony of the Tradition. When the faithful begged for decent catechesis, a generation got "Cut, Color, and Draw," not formation in the Tradition. When the pope tried to make Catholic universities teach the Catholic faith, our bishops labored with might and main to make certain that Ex Corde Ecclesia was dead on arrival, lest we learn the Tradition.
In each case, however, the problem has not been with the Church not knowing what to do. It has only been with the Church not liking what it had to do: namely, preach the gospel in season and out of season. That is what the flock needs, what it has ever needed: a Church that preaches and lives the Tradition of the Apostles. If we live it, they will come.
Mark P. Shea is a senior editor at www.CatholicExchange.com and a columnist for InsideCatholic.com. Visit his blog at www.markshea.blogspot.com.
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The Pew Foundation reports that "Catholicism has experienced the greatest net losses as a result of affiliation changes." This should cause the American leadership to rethink its marketing strategy. Why is it that people remain attached to a religious affiliation? Is it because it offers a less impressive version of the fastest-growing affiliation? Or is it because it offers something uniquely desired by its current members?
Another way to ask the question: What is the comparative advantage that the Catholic Church has over its competition? The concept of comparative advantage is familiar to students of economics but not usually outside of it. In brief, the idea here is to find the task that you are uniquely suited to do within the overall structure of the division of labor. This offers the greatest hope for success for you in the marketplace. You might be a wonderful violinist, but the market is already crowded with them. Another skill you have is accounting, which is much in demand. Your comparative advantage is to specialize in accounting. For as long as I can remember, Catholic leaders have said that this trend, which they have long detected, should be addressed by attempting to copy the styles and approaches of their more successful competitors. Hence we should be warm and wonderful and have uppity music just like the evangelicals. Or maybe we should have long and inspiring sermons. Or maybe we should set aside a time in our services for personal testimonies and otherwise try to enhance that feeling of togetherness as a community. Everything must be super accessible and superficially edifying, so that people always feel good about themselves.
The question is rarely asked whether this really works. The data seem to show that it doesn't.
Let's leave doctrine and liturgy out of it completely and consider the best approach from a marketing point of view. If friendliness, togetherness, happiness, socializing, and chit chat are what people want, they will get all that and more at the local evangelical sect. Catholics can attempt to copy this for 1,000 years and never come close to doing it as well as they do.
It makes far more sense for Catholics to focus on their comparative advantage: robust doctrine, mystery in its liturgy, unfashionable teachings on morality, and its claims to truth. There is also the obvious marketability of a 2,000-year-old heritage, which must be kept alive in order to retain its market share.
Look at it from a business point of view. If your computer company were losing profits, what is the best approach: attempt to be just like Dell, or offer something unique and attractive that Dell does not offer? Everyone in business school knows that pure imitation is a sure path to failure. The market leader will remain the market leader, and you will be forever playing catch up with a phony version of the real thing.
Or consider another analogy: Let's say you had a product to offer that was very much bound up with a long heritage of service and a huge devoted following, something like Coke. Would it be wise to suddenly spring a New Coke on the market? Coke found out otherwise, in one of the most legendary calamities in the history of marketing.
It seems that postconciliar attempts to be hip, modern, chummy, communicative, and all the rest should also be ranked up there in the history of religious marketing failures. It is not only doctrinally unsound; it is simply bad business practice. Catholics have so much that no one else has. Recapturing that is the key to firming up the Catholic Church's share in the religious market.
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