Recently, my wife Linda and I traveled to a Catholic church several hours from Lake Charles to give a parish mission. It was our second visit to this church within the past three years and we were looking forward to returning.

The people were warm, friendly, hospitable and down to earth. In other words, what you see is what you get.

As we drove, we reflected on the uniqueness of this small rural church nestled in the hills. It was a small faith community of about one hundred families where everyone seemed to know each other which made the one Mass on Sunday morning seem like a big family gathering.

As we arrived at the church we noticed a few changes. There was a new statue of Mary in the Grotto and the church had purchased some new portable classrooms for their CCD program.

As the "folks" began to arrive for Mass, Linda and I were greeted with smiles, hugs and a genuine interest in what we had been doing since our last visit.

We met the new Pastor who had been assigned to this community after their previous Pastor had retired. I found out the new Pastor was seventy-five but still eager to serve the community; but because of health restrictions he was limited to saying Mass on Sunday. I saw that as quite an accomplishment considering his age. I hope I am still breathing at seventy-five.

Although everything on the surface seemed to be the same as we left it three years ago, I sensed from some of the parishioners an underlying feeling of doubt, confusion and even anger. After the Mass I mentioned to one of the men that he had a wonderful faith community. His answer was, "I hope we get to keep it."

When I asked him what he meant, he said that there were rumors (rather reliable rumors) that they were going to close this church. He said that as long as the current Pastor is willing to say Mass on Sunday, the church will stay open. But if he retires (at seventy-five that can be any day) they will close the church.

This kindly old gentleman said that these rumors were dividing the community. The church had been established over forty years ago and the "old timers" were furious at the possibility of losing their spiritual home. The nearest Catholic church was fifteen miles away which would make it very difficult for the senior citizens of the parish to drive thirty miles round trip to church. In addition, it is the only Catholic presence in an area that is filled with Protestant churches.

However, the distance is not the issue. At a time when there are 80 million unchurched people in this country and 18 million fallen away Catholics, we should not be closing our Catholic churches.

As I visited with more of the parishioners about the situation, and saw their obvious pain and frustration, I thought there must be another way other than putting a padlock on the door. It seemed like the easy way out. Several of the parishioners said their anger and frustration came from the fact that they had no voice in the decision. Although they had grown up in this church, had their children baptized, confirmed and married in this church, even though many of their family members had been buried in this church, the decision would ultimately be made by people many miles away.

I have been saying for years that as a church we are facing many critical challenges, both clergy and laity. We must be willing to work in collaboration to address and solve the problems of today so the millennium will truly be a "new springtime of Christianity."

Locking the doors of our churches and telling the faithful to stay warm and well fed is not the answer. Now is the time to find new and creative ways to have "church" and still remain true to the teachings of our faith.

Although this Catholic church is not in the Diocese of Lake Charles it is still painful because these people are my Catholic brothers and sisters and they are grieving. As a church we must stop living in our isolated little worlds with our heads in the sand pretending that these problems don't exist or the next church closing may be yours or mine. As Linda and I drove away from this beautiful, quaint and faith filled community, we wondered if it would be the last time we would see this church occupied with Catholic people.

If efforts aren't made in the near future to find alternative ways, the Catholic people in this beautiful rural community will hear these words, "The last one out, please turn out the lights."

Glenn Harmon © 2002