Tonight I went to a farmer's market with my kids, my sister, and nieces. I just happened to be wearing my St. Mary's Malaga t-shirt (as seen on left). While checking out some of the great things one of the women at the market was selling, she asked me,

"Is your church one of the ones slated to close?"

I was taken by surprise because I forgot that I was wearing my St. Mary's t-shirt.

I replied, "Yeah, but not if we can help it."

She said, "Good for you!" and continued to express her general disapproval of everything that was going on in the Diocese. She said, "I'm just lucky that my church is not one of the ones he wants to close. They built a new one. It's ultra-modern on the inside and I'm not sure I like it."

I said, "That's why we love our church. People really sacrificed to build it. It's old and traditional, dating from 1922, it's got beautiful stained glass windows, and it's just gorgeous."

She said, "I hope they don't close your church."

I said, "We're fighting, and we'll take it all the way to Rome if we have to."

She nodded enthusiastically in agreement and said, "Yes! That's what you should do. It's not right."

We talked a little more before browsing more around the market. The woman was very nice, but she seemed a little depressed about the way things were headed in the Diocese, and what they'd done with her parish. My impression is that, for a lot of Catholics in the Diocese, churches like St. Mary's mean a lot to them, even if they aren't members there. They represent Catholicism as they know it. (Which is probably part of why we are being persecuted in favor of a "new catholicism.") Even to visit a church like St. Mary's helps them feel closer to God. I guess some of the larger, more sterile, "theater-in-the-round" churches (see below) just don't do the trick, so to speak, but it's what they've got.

As I said, I've had conversations almost identical to this any number of times. Not once have I heard someone say, "Well the bishop's probably got good reasons," or "Your church is too small anyway," or "There's a priest shortage you know," or anything like that.

A couple weeks ago a man who helps run a local pool where I took my son to swimming lessons found out I went to St. Mary's. He told me how much he loves that church, even though he's not a member there, and that I could return to the pool anytime I wanted, even though I'm not a member, just because he holds the church in such high regard.

A little over a year ago I visited a South Jersey historian who happened to be a Methodist. She said, "Well I'm not a Catholic, but there's just something special about St. Mary's. You can feel it when you walk in the door."

Without exception we have experienced popular support and, frankly, disgust over the bishop's intention to close our church and other churches. Most frequently, people disapprove of what they see as a discrepancy between church closures and diocesan real estate holdings, scandals, and, well, as one man put it to me the other week, "corruption and hypocrisy in the Church." Take the pulse of the people of the Diocese of Camden and the people on the street, and I think you'll find they are jaded to say the least. Evidently what people respond to are not grand "restructuring" schemes in which their churches are stolen from them, but bishops who obviously live the Gospel and love Jesus, who show that they really care about those entrusted to them, who are honest, and who are not politically involved. People are not stupid. They see right through all these things.

The point is, if these are the sentiments we are hearing expressed from people whose churches are not expected to close, and in many cases the sentiments expressed by non-Catholics or nominal Catholics, can you imagine what people think of the plan whose churches are in a limbo state (a la "secondary worship site," a status which supposedly no longer exists) or whose churches are supposed to get the ax? Maybe it's time for some more "listening sessions," huh?