Empty Seats

December 12th, 2025

I took Asher to Mass last Sunday morning. My wife was not feeling well, so she stayed home. Asher usually balks at going to church, but twice a month Miss Jenny offers “Liturgy of the Word for Children” during the service. Her program is a Bible lesson for the little kids about the scripture readings that are being proclaimed during the Mass. She apparently makes the session fun, because our grandson is eager to be with her and the other children. I like it because for a few minutes I can focus on the Mass as opposed to watching whatever mischief Asher is making.

When the priest called for the children to come forth and meet up with Miss Jenny, I noticed once again how few kids were in the church. The weather that morning was bad, so some families probably stayed home to avoid the snow-covered roads. But still, there were only a handful of children at the Mass. Of those in attendance only six kids went to Jenny’s program. Six kids. That’s pathetic, and it’s a bit scary.

Keep in mind that the vast majority of the people going to the one and only Sunday service at our parish is old. I am a mere stripling compared to some of the other parishioners. There are very few families at Mass even on nice days. I make a habit of counting the number of children when we go to church. Generally, there are maybe a dozen. That’s it.

The scary part is that this small group of children represents the future of our church. The upshot is that there really isn’t a future there. In ten years, most of the people in the pews will be dead. There is not a new generation coming up to replace them. There will be a lot of empty seats. Even now, our parish is in the process of combining operations with three other parishes. That is partly due to a lack of priests, but also due to a vanishing flock. It’s just a matter of time before the whole congregation folds up and the doors of the church are permanently locked.

Our parish is not unique. Most churches lack young people in their ranks. I am not entirely sure why that is. It is clear to me that the Catholic Church in our country does not meet the spiritual needs of the new generations. My wife and I did everything we could to raise our three children to be Catholics. Maybe in some sense they are, but none of them go to Mass. Our kids are good people, but they can find nothing of value in the sanctuary. It makes me sad, truly sad.

I take comfort in the fact that the Church has survived and often thrived during the last two thousand years. The history of the Church is one of cycles: vitality, decay, and then renewal. I just finished reading a science fiction novel about a time in the future when the Church is moribund but suddenly discovers a new way of fulfilling its mission. There are growth and strength in the Church elsewhere in the world. Sub-Saharan Africa and parts of Asia come to mind. For instance, our pastor is from India. In America and Europe, the faith is faltering. That does not mean it’s dying. Or if it is dying, that just means there will be a rebirth, something new and unexpected.

There will be a resurrection. There always is.

Martyrdom

August 17th, 2025

“In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point on shedding blood.” – Hebrews 12:4

The priest gave a homily (sermon) today based on the verse from the letter to the Hebrews that is shown above. Our pastor is originally from India and wanted to talk about Christians in various parts of the world whose lives are in danger because of their faith. He mentioned that there are some parts of India where being identified as a Christian can be life-threatening. He seemed to indicate that he had some personal experience with that kind of persecution. I would suppose that under Modi’s Hindu centric regime threats against any non-Hindu group would be common.

Our pastor emphasized that numerous Christians have in recent years chosen death before renouncing their faith. He summed up his sermon by pointedly asking the members of the congregation what they would do in such a situation. Would they abandon their religion or would they become martyrs. A “martyr” is by definition a “witness”. That is the original meaning of the word. So, a martyr is one who bears witness.

I had to think about the priest’s question. I feel like his choice is simplistic. So, what would I do if somebody was ready to kill me? The answer is, “I don’t know.” I have trouble even imagining that scenario. I doubt that, if I was threatened with death for being a Christian, I would raise my eyes to the heavens and make a noble and inspiring profession of faith. It is more likely that I would tell the persecutor to fuck off and let him or her do their job. Or maybe, I would tell them whatever they wanted to hear. I really don’t know what I would do, and I don’t want to find out.

I thought some more about it and, if somebody was ready and willing to kill me for my beliefs, I would probably first think about Asher, my little grandson. I would be asking myself, “Who will care for the boy if I die?” It’s one thing to surrender my life if I have no responsibilities toward others. It’s whole different matter if my grandson would be an orphan if I chose the martyr’s route.

Taking the thought experiment a step further, “What would I do if the persecutor told me, ‘Abandon your faith in Christ, or I’ll blow this kid’s head off’?” I am pretty sure that I would give up my religion to save Asher.

Jewish tradition deals in depth with the reality of martyrdom. Jews have lots of experience with that. The rule for Jews is that they should forfeit their lives if the alternative means committing idolatry, sexual immorality, or murder. To die instead committing those sins is kiddush hashem, meaning ‘sanctification of God’s name”. In all other cases, a Jew should do whatever is necessary to stay alive. Historically, during forced conversions, many Jews allowed themselves to be killed, others committed suicide, and some renounced Judaism to save themselves and their families. The rabbis and the scholars are divided on what is the best course of action.

The question that comes to my mind is: “What is more important? Dying for your faith or living it? Or are they two sides of the same coin?”

Scenes in religious movies usually show martyrdom in a heroic and dramatic fashion. The images are violent and bloody. People literally go out with a bang. What films don’t show are the people who give up their lives a little bit at a time. I know loving individuals who care for sick or disabled family members, and they do this work for years or decades. These folks are giving away their lives as a trickle of blood, a few drops every day until there is nothing left. They may not get recognized for it, but theirs is a slow-motion martyrdom. They die for God in the service of others. They will never get into a stained-glass window, but they are sacrificing just as much as the person who has “Jesus” on their lips just before they get a bullet in the head.

These people also bear witness.