Back in the day, if your New Orleans cabdriver dropped you at the corner of Constance and Josephine for Mass, you had three Catholic churches to choose from. Yes, the Redemptorists ran three separate parishes on the same street corner: one Irish, one German, and one French.

Only one still functions as a parish. It’s no longer staffed by an army of Redemptorists, and you may not have to arrive thirty minutes early to get a seat in one of its many pews, but it’s still a holy sanctuary to those who come to worship God and be nourished by the sacraments. To many, St. Mary’s is a special and unique place—not simply one of the many Catholic churches in New Orleans.

When I was in the seminary, it was common to envision how a priest shortage would affect the Church of the twenty-first century. Would one priest pastor three or four parishes, zipping between them on Sunday morning to cover all the Masses? Others wondered which Rome would give in to first—married clergy or ordained women. Still others envisioned the fulfillment of the vision laid out at the Second Vatican Council: The laity would be called to full participation in their Church.

Well, we were right about one thing: Every major diocese has had to confront the issue of dwindling resources and shifting populations. Bishops do indeed face the constant challenge of spreading fewer priests throughout an ever-sprawling populace. And it’s no long­er happening only to the old and crumbling inner-city parishes­; it’s happening to suburban parishes as well.  

But little did we dream that the dollars would disappear faster than the priests. The decline in the quality and quantity of services, issues like the sex-abuse scandal, and our current economic situation have caused people to think twice about their offerings.

Some people believe money is all we talk about. But the cold, hard reality is that it takes money to operate a parish, from salaries to utilities; from maintenance to insurance; from bread, wine, and candles to snow removal. I can’t even begin to list them all. And continuing to operate big churches in small communities that are often only blocks apart is not good stewardship.

So how do people preserve their church, the place that holds so many memories, the place that is rock and root of their worship? The long-term solution won’t save parishes now, but it will save future parishes: Encourage our sons to consider the priesthood. Some parents actively dissuade their sons from becoming priests, so it’s up to us to show them a priesthood worth committing their lives to—one that won’t lift them up or use them up but will allow them to be of service to God’s people. Priests must be happy and healthy role models.

The short-term solution comes down to time, talent, and treasure. We must support our parishes with our financial resources, but we also need to get personally involved. We must place our talents at the service of our community, and not just 5 percent of us. All of us. We must be open and inviting. We must be faithful and flexible enough to respond to the needs of the community. Bishops don’t close vibrant, growing parishes.
For the short and long terms, we need to practice—no, live—our faith. Most of these closed churches weren’t built because of location or because people had a lot of money.

They arose from a community of the faithful living their faith by building the kingdom.
They arose from a people willing to make a sacrifice.
They arose from a people who gave God not their leftover time, talent, and treasure, but their very best.
Can we not do the same?