Skip to content
Link copied to clipboard

Holy grail

A Philadelphia parish that values young people like gold has hit upon a way to lure them.

On Sunday mornings at Old St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Church, parishioners say, you can see something you wouldn't have seen a few years ago:

Baby strollers. Parked in the courtyard.

Their presence is a small but telling sign of how Philadelphia's oldest Catholic church is accomplishing a feat that vexes so many others - attracting young members.

"It's very important to us," said Louise Cruz-Vizcaino, who has attended Old St. Joe's for 25 years. "You need the longtime members to give support and encouragement, to be the mentors, but you need the young ones to give new blood. "

In the last year, the church has registered 159 parishioners - more than half between the ages of 21 and 39, bringing its congregation to 1,172.

Attendance at the Children's Liturgy of the Word on Sunday mornings has grown from five to 25. The class once fit easily into a rectory parlor, but had to be moved to a larger hall.

How did this happen in an era of graying congregations?

Not by accident.

In December, after considerable internal discussion, the church added a fourth Sunday service - at 6:30 p.m. The logic was simple: Young people are out on Saturday nights and sleep late on Sunday mornings.

Average attendance at the Mass, and spaghetti dinner afterward, has grown to 75 people, many of them young men and women.

"I'm confident if we didn't offer that Mass, they wouldn't be there," said the Rev. Mark Horak, who became pastor at Old St. Joe's in the summer of 2003. "You've got to meet them on their own terms. "

Feeling welcome

To get to Old St. Joe's, you wander down Fourth Street and turn hard toward the river, stepping across the cobblestones of Willings Alley, eventually reaching a narrow archway that marks a brick courtyard.

Philadelphia essayist Agnes Repplier famously described Old St. Joe's, founded by Jesuits in 1733, as being "as carefully hidden away as a martyr's tomb in the catacombs. "

"It's a place where I have always felt welcome, even if I didn't know anyone," says Patrick Britton, 24, who attends with his wife, Katie Higgins, also 24.

He recalled his first visit, how guests were asked to stand at the end of the Mass. He felt awkwardly

singled out, but "then everyone started clapping. "

"It just felt so genuine," Britton says. "They do their best to care about you as a person, and live out their faith and express their Catholicity in their actions. That has a big appeal to young folks: They may not know all the words or rituals, or when to stand up or sit down, but they don't have to. "

No doubt the church's efforts have been helped by the city's changing demographics: thousands of people in their 20s and 30s arriving amid a Center City renaissance that has spawned scores of restaurants, clubs and condominiums.

Old St. Joe's is a parish "without boundaries," which means worshippers can come from anywhere, and they do, from as far away as Lansdale. It also means they can leave when they want.

More than a sermon

These days it's hard to get young people into church - any church. They're busy with new friends, new homes, new jobs.

But more than a time crunch keeps them away, says James Herrick, author of The Making of the New Spirituality.

Many tend to associate Christianity with conservative politics. Concepts of sin and judgment seem foreign to generations raised on acceptance and tolerance. Young people encounter alternative religions, so the idea of one faith standing above the rest "strikes them as culturally insensitive," says Herrick, who teaches at Hope College in Michigan.

Eddie Gibbs, who studies church growth at Fuller Seminary in California, says young people typically are suspicious of big institutions - and religious institutions in particular.

"The churches in North America, Catholic and Protestant, are losing a lot of the under-35s," says Gibbs, co-author of Emerging Churches: Creating Christian Community in Postmodern Cultures. "The under-35s represent a culture of networking and empowerment, while the church represents a culture of hierarchy and control. "

They want more than a sermon, he says. They want a way to put Christ's ancient teachings into present-day action.

People at Old St. Joe's have been thinking about that a lot as new members have joined.

The congregation skews young - more than half are 45 or under.

"The demographics of Old St. Joe's have certainly shifted," says Mark Navin, 28, a city resident who joined the church three years ago with his wife, Debra, 27, and serves on the parish council. "The goal has not been to pander to young people, but to make sure we're doing things to engage a younger market. "

That includes "Women at the Well," a monthly forum on spirituality from a feminist perspective. Movie nights offer good films - Dead Man Walking was a recent screening - and discussions of the issues they raise, like the death penalty.

On Tuesday night "Carewalks," members traverse city streets, taking food to the homeless. "This is really going out and doing it," says Patrick Kaylor, 36, a parishioner along with his wife, Saamara, 26.

The church attracts a significant number of gay parishioners. Nobody pays much mind.

"In terms of sexuality, we're very welcoming," Navin says. Asked how that can be reconciled with church teachings, he says, "I don't try to split those hairs... . Hospitality, as a virtue, is among the most Christian virtues - loving and respecting other people, especially those who are different from you. "

Horak says he wants parishioners to exchange ideas, learn from one another, and thereby deepen their friendships.

"It is no secret - and the bishops know this well - that not every Catholic thinks the same way about every issue," he says. "I try to encourage people to examine the Scriptures and our Catholic tradition with the same intellectual rigor that they would examine political and social issues... . I don't expect those differences that emerge to break our communion with one another in the Lord. "

Today the parish council is starting a long-term planning project on the future of the church. In 10 years, many of the youngsters attending the Children's Liturgy will be teenagers.

"One of the goals is to try to sustain the presence of young people and young families," Navin says. "It's something I don't have the answers to. But it's something we're very committed to. "

Contact staff writer Jeff Gammage at 610-313-8110 or jgammage@phillynews.com.