Parish Consolidation as Renewal
Is there a spiritual core to this thing?
Over the next several months, I intend to peel back the layers of parish consolidation (aka parish mergers) to consider the spiritual or theological underpinnings of such efforts. Namely, are there any? Is there a deeper core to these often painful realities that might serve as a solid basis? Is it possible to go beyond clever marketing and painful bureaucratic processes in the course of such mergers? Does the parish have much of a chance in today’s culture anyway? Or, is all of this a huge waste of time and resources — an exercise in futility? What role can the parish play for the Church moving forward?
These are formidable questions and I’m not entirely sure where to begin. But, we have to begin somewhere. So, let’s look at the nature of a parish. What is it?
On the word “parish”
The origins of the word are Greek. Here’s how it breaks down: para means “near” and oikos means “house.” So, a parish literally has to do with houses that are near one another—a neighborhood. There’s a bit of geography involved. Relational geography and physical geography. It’s a matter of proximity.
In Latin, the word would come to refer to “sojourners.” With this, we add an element of movement. We’re dealing with a certain type of people, namely, those who are on a journey.
The result of the combination of meanings is rather beautiful. A parish refers to pilgrims who are sojourning near each other on their way to a heavenly homeland. You see the individual and the collective come together. The individual is on his or her way, on his or her path, together with all the others who are on the Way. Communion lies at the heart of the concept of parish. We are dealing with the movement of a person, and persons, being drawn into communion with Christ, while simultaneously being drawn into communion with one another. The parish is the meeting place of what we might call the “vertical” and “horizontal” elements of communion — communion with God and with others.
The parish, the Great Commission, and Canon Law
Why does the Church structure herself into dioceses and, even more minutely, into parishes? To answer this, let’s consider the origins of the Church’s mission.
In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus commissions his followers to “Go . . . and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you” (Mt 28:19-20).
In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus says, “Go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature” (Mk 16:15).
Acts of the Apostles contains a similar message: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:6).
A parish is a tiny part of “the whole world.” It is a certain pastor’s and his people’s “ends of the earth." It’s their little corner of the vineyard. The concept of a diocese and a parish makes the universal call concrete. I have in mind a line from Ven. Madeleine Delbrêl: “We do not truly love the whole world unless we love the people who are close to us in a practical way.” Organizing herself into dioceses and parishes is the Church’s way of loving everyone in a practical way.
According to Canon Law, a parish “is to be territorial” (Can 515 §1); it is “a certain community of the Christian faithful stably constituted in a particular church, whose pastoral care is entrusted to a pastor” (Can 518). This line draws out the pastoral nature of a parish. A pastor must care for this flock, for these members of the faithful. This means tending the flock, feeding the flock, defending the flock.
But there’s a missional component as well.
Within the geographical area of the parish, the pastor “is obliged to make provision so that the word of God is proclaimed in its entirety to those living in the parish . . . He is to make every effort, even with the collaboration of the Christian faithful, so that the message of the Gospel comes also to those who have ceased the practice of their religion or do not profess the truth faith” (Can 528 §1). The parish does not exist only for those “registered parishioners” or “pew-sitting Catholics.” The parish is not a kind of separatist venture. It’s not about isolating a certain group of people from those who live in the same neighborhood for the sake of self-preservation. Surely, there are elements of separation, of boundaries, of preservation, but all for the sake of mission — insertion into the life of the community, destruction of barriers, sacrifice for the sake of the other. It is incumbent on the pastor, with the collaboration of the lay faithful, that the Gospel be proclaimed within the parish.
When it comes to why a parish exists, the answer is fairly straightforward: the parish exists for parishioners and for all who live within our boundaries, that they might know the love of God in Jesus Christ and respond to it.
Any and all considerations about consolidation or mergers would do well to start from such foundations, rather than talk of buildings, resources, population, October counts, priest shortages, and the like. This deeper understanding starts to send us down a path toward renewal and revitalization.