Bulletin column from January 23, 2022

Dear Friends at Saint Mary’s Immaculate Conception Parish and Saint Frances Cabrini Parish:

Praised be Jesus Christ! By no means am I an expert on the Germanic regions of the world, or the Catholic Church in those same territories, but I do pay some attention to them by way of a hobby if nothing else. One of the ways I pay attention is to listen in the mornings to the public radio news station from Munich, and with my mediocre German I am able to make out a lot of what they are saying. It is interesting to pick up from the broadcast some indicators of Catholic cultural markers in that part of the world, especially by way of comparison to us here in America.

Especially instructive to me of all things is the weather report, and along with it how the Bavarians in a very public, ingrained, and cultural way mark their holidays as they speak of news and events. As the public radio commentators read the weather forecast for the coming days in a given week, if it is the case that as holidays are approaching, they will refer to the days by their Catholic titles or feast names in a way that reveals what a truly Catholic culture southern Germany used to be, and in some ways still is. November 11th is “Martins Tag,” (Feast of Saint Martin) which for centuries has been a major festival day in Catholic Europe. All Saints, and All Souls are named. The Season of Advent is referred to, including in ads. Christmas Eve is referred to in its Catholic cultural short-hand of “Heilig Abend.” New Year’s Eve is always called “Sylvesters Tag,” or just “Sylvester,” because on the Catholic calendar, December 31st is Saint Sylvester’s Feast Day and was for centuries a celebration day. Same is true of Holy Week, Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Easter Sunday, Ascension Thursday, Pentecost, and the Assumption of Mary. They are all referred to in public parlance by their Catholic or Christian names. For many of these days they are like Sundays in those territories because everyone has off (including for Ascension Thursday) and they are referred to as “festival days,” with people planning vacations and parties around them, much like we do here for Memorial Day, or July 4th.

In America I just can’t imagine listening to a news or weather report in which the commentator would casually refer to the forecasted “high temp for Pentecost.” We never were a Catholic culture or country, and our public discourse, more and more, is intentionally stripped of most religious references. These days it is thought to be a public virtue to have left such arcane mentions in our past.

Part of why I find the German linguistic routines so fascinating is because even though they hang on to the Catholic calendar for their names, vacations and routines of public life, it is unfortunately the case that so many of them do not profess faith in God, and that their everyday beliefs are highly secular. All of those Catholic names and holidays are for many of them what all of their lovely church buildings also are: empty relics of their past. They exist as publicly subsidized symbolic or artistic elements of a cultural location, but they do not really mean anything with regards to one’s soul or daily decision making.

America by comparison does not live against a visible, linguistic Catholic cultural backdrop. That said, we are much less secular. In fact, our parish life here, even with all the hits it has taken of late, is still far more vibrant and active than almost anything in Europe. Most Europeans are shocked at our widespread religious fervor and devotion over here, even if none of us get off work for Ascension Thursday like some of them do.

There are “goods” and “bads” to both situations. Even if Europe is in so many respects these days a desert of religious devotion, the Catholic ethos and sensibility is still in their cultural DNA and they lean on it more than they admit. They take it for granted, like part of the woodwork, which breeds complacency but at the same time it still allows for the possibility of its normalcy and for its renewal. If it is taken from them they shudder. Witness the tears in the streets when Notre Dame burned.

America runs the risk more and more these days of having Christianity become an underground religion because of the forced secularization of our public discourse. Our piety is a great asset, but in the absence of mainstream cultural markers and public expression it starts to devolve into something insular and even unhealthy if one is not careful. At the same time it is something that increasingly we have to fight for precisely because it is NOT part of the cultural woodwork, giving it an ardor that is impressive and enduring.

Best case scenario would be a blending of both worlds for a vibrant Catholic piety and vibrant, public Catholic culture. It is something we are always needing to strive after no matter when in time we live, or where in the world we live. Maybe one day we can all get off work for the Feast of the Assumption.