Does your parish only seat 150 people?
Does everyone seem to know everyone by name?
Is everyone in approximately the same age group?
Is everything sung as though it's the last selection before Christ returns in glory?
Does the congregation burst into memorized songs during Communion?
Does everyone pal-around before Mass and linger afterwards?
Does just about everyone participate in some form of ministry involving the general operation of the parish?
If you answered yes to more than one of the questions above, you probably attend a Boutique Parish.
A music director I know recently went to a Mass at St. Boutique's. She enthusiastically told me about it: everyone sang the roof off, everyone memorized the words, people were very friendly, it was so inspiring...
The boutique experience is great, but there's a problem:
Most of us go to parishes that seat 800+ people and have 2,000+ families registered.
Many people arrive after Mass begins and leave after communion, so the closest people get to names is recognizing vanity plates in the parking lot.
Most singing is timid, regardless of the tune - many times hymnals remained closed even when people are cajoled to turn to number 813 in the hymnal and sing out or the cantor will glare at you.
There's a small group of folks who seem to be involved in everything. Everyone else may or may not be involved in parish ministry or other activities.
Lots of people seem to be phoning it in.
How do you get the Boutique Experience at St. Astrodome?
You don't. You just don't. Because you can't.
But people try:
The before-Mass introductions, turn to your neighbor and say hello.
All manner of acclamations and psalms, regardless of their complexity, are rehearsed before Mass to make sure the congregation absolutely knows they are supposed to sing.
The congregation is made to sing another verse of the opening hymn because they didn't sing it loud enough the first time.
The Our Father prefaced with an invitation to hold hands.
The Kiss of Peace prefaced by the priest inviting everyone to hug.
Years ago I worked at a company that had a summer picnic each year. BBQ was served, it was held in the company parking lot. Spouses, etc. were invited. The announcement for the picnic included an ominous sentence:
All employees are expected to attend the picnic from 2pm until the end of our standard work day.
You had to stay until 5pm. Even if it involved ribs and beer, you had to stay until 5pm. This is what I call "Forced Fun." And there's nothing that annoys people more than forced fun.
All the hugs, the cajoling to hold hands and sing loud - sometimes it's just forced fun.
I don't have the answer for making St. Megalopolis a more dynamic, spiritfilled parish - except that people need to know Christ in order to be full, active participants in the liturgy. And sometimes full and active does not mean hugs for everyone and loud singing.
Do I sound like Cranky Catholic? Perhaps I do. But nothing is less fun then forced fun.
Excellent, excellent analysis. In the same vein as any sort of top-down planning of people's personal tastes -- be it centrally planned economies, mandated government diets, or whatever -- the imposition of the few on the many always kills whatever hope of spontaneous goodness might arise, and the only hope for real camaraderie is to find other people with whom to whisper your complaints. How long, oh Lord?
In the Navy we would have something similar and we called it "Mandatory Fun Day."
+J.M.J+
I'm a bit of an introvert myself, and am not entirely comfortable with greeters at the door of a church. Some churches I visit on vacation have very outgoing greeters who make immediate eye contact with you and chirpily say "Welcome to St. Gregarious, is this your first time here?" while handing you a bulletin. I'm sure some people like that, but everyone's temperment is different and I'm just not comfortable with it for some reason.
My local churches all have more traditional ushers; they don't go out of their way to greet people, generally let you approach them first if you need a seat, and don't hand out bulletins till you're leaving. I guess I like that better.
I think we're on to something here - names for big, happy parishes.
St. Gregarious
St. Megalopolis
St. Astrodome
This is funny! What else can we come up with?
St. Babylon
Are there really parishes with buildings that small? I've known a few Sunday congregations like that, but they were groups that met in non-parish chapels: at a hospital, a city religious house, a suburban monastery; or groups that met for a weekday Mass, connected with St. Glossolalia's prayer group, for example.
I am currently a member of a fairly large parish. While it's true that everyone doesn't know everyone else, you meet people over time, and there are usually more opportunities to get involved in parish life. It's also more likely that you will meet people who have similar interests and beliefs as yourself. I need community prayer, but I don't need to know every single person in the pews. Still, I've taken the time to attend funeral Masses for people that I have seen in church hundreds of times and yet never known or spoken to beyond a "hello". Just joining with them in prayer week after week, year after year, has made me feel a sense of community with them.
I grew up in a small parish, and there are positive aspects to that as well. You do tend to know many more people. Sacraments shared at public liturgies seem more familial in these parishes. However, in smaller parishes, it does often end up being a small number of people doing all the work for the church (and often lots of the influence), and just like living in a small town, everyone usually knows your personal business, whether you want them to or not.
When attending Mass as a visitor at a small unfamliar "boutique parish", I usually feel like an outsider, despite the overtures to welcome me. Visiting large parishes don't give me this feeling. I can "blend", which suits me fine when just visiting.
The most important thing, I feel, is that once you set down roots in a parish, stick it out. That's how a community, large or small, is built.
By the way, my contribution is: "Our Lady of Perpetually Clogged Parking".
Apologies to Fr. Rob Johansen:
"St. Gripingrin's Fabricated Catholic Community"
Yet, Protestant megachurches or midsized churches have a great deal of singing.
Our Lady of Perpetual Discontent (formed by the breakaway former members of St Gripingrin.)
Incidentally, Patrick, good comment about the Protestant megachurches.
To Protestants, worship IS singing - they don't have the Holy Sacrifice of the Eucharist available on a daily (or more often) basis. I was attending an evangelical pentecostal worship service earlier this month, and I joked that an anthropologist would think that the object of worship and adoration was the screen on which the hymn lyrics were displayed.
I think that we disrespect ourselves as Catholics when we groan and moan about the lack of singing. I know, I am also guilty of this, as an ex-Anglican and a committed choir member. However, I had a lightbulb moment last week. As Catholics, we recite many prayers together, from memory, at every Mass and most other corporate prayer events. This provides us with the unity of speech and prayer that many others can only find through singing the very simple hymns and 'worship songs' that prevail in many Protestant (especially evangelical) services.