Cathedrae

 

“Some people think You just live in cathedrals made of stone, but I know You live inside my heart, I know that it’s Your home.” So goes a song on my kids’ car-trip-staple Christian radio station. While this is obviously offensive to Catholics, we can be charitable pointing out the error. 

Certainly God lives in the human heart in a sense. But when and how does He come there most intimately? The liturgy. Baptism. The Eucharist. Confession. Prayer, especially public prayer. And for most of Christian history, the Holy Spirit has lifted up cathedrals as the center of liturgical life. 

Once upon a time, cathedrals had whole chapters of priests dedicated to signing the psalm-based prayers of the Roman Office throughout every day. Dante narrated how “Terces and Nones” rang down from cathedrals in his day as a side comment. Augustine Thompson, OP’s, Cities of God relates how in Medieval Northern Italy, communal baptisms would take place at the cathedral font. The cathedrals often maintained the local calendar of saints, local missals (Gallican in France, Sarum in England, and so on). 

Cathedrals were the lifeblood of the faith, and a place where God uniquely spoke to the heart of man and infused him with sanctifying grace. 

Is your cathedral thriving? Is it beautiful? Is it well maintained? Does it have a good schedule of liturgy, is it well attended, does it have faithful priests, is it in a safe neighborhood? Too often, the answer to most or all of these questions is no. 

For most of my life, I ignored my diocese’s cathedral. In college, I was blessed to live a block and a half from a thriving cathedral and attend inspiring Triduum liturgies there. In Arlington, the cathedral’s eyesore wallpaper was mercifully ejected during a renovation a few years back. In my current diocese, the cathedral is beautiful with wonderful priests but in a questionable neighborhood and, I suspect largely for that reason, poorly attended. Last year’s Easter Vigil could not have had more than 40 attendees, and most of those were families from the local Latin Mass (not held at the cathedral) attending because one of the family’s newborns was being baptized at Vigil. 

Our pastor is also the rector of the cathedral and lives in the cathedral rectory. Somewhat high on his enormous to do list is restoring the cathedral rectory, which was damaged by a roof flood years ago, after which nothing was repaired except the roof. 

While unlikely, I cannot help but pray that the Bishop moves our diocese toward a hub model, and makes the cathedral the center. Word on the street is that the diocese, like most, needs to close 50% of parishes given fallen attendance, financing, and vocations. And that was before covid. 

Why not move several priests into a restored cathedral rectory, having them travel to their former resident parishes on Sundays if those churches make the cut to stay open? The priests could pray at least one hour of the Office in public in the cathedral each day. With 4-5 priests during the week, the cathedral could also offer a genuinely pastoral schedule of liturgy: Mass before working hours, Mass during lunch hour, and Mass after working hours, with confession preceding each Mass. Throw in adoration and benediction before the after work Mass, and perhaps Compline and/or a rosary afterward. Open the rectory and have catechesis and adult formation during the week. 

During the recent synod on synodality, the downtown parishes were hapless as to how to form adults in the faith and keep them at Mass and participating in parish life. So many of us just want a place to go to find healthy community and engagement. 

Making the local cathedral a destination with events around the clock and throughout the week, and making space in the rectory for come and go chats, events, community, food, and social life wouldn’t be the worst idea. 

I am convinced that the Pittsburgh Oratory’s almost shocking success with vocations (from 2007 to 2021 at least five ordinations within the community, plus at least four others who became diocesan priests), was due to causes beyond reverent liturgy and perpetual adoration. The Oratory is a lived in space. Students eat there, do homework there, play video games and foosball there, fall asleep in an armchair there. Running into (cassocked) priests for casual conversation is a normal part of daily life.

While a longshot, there’s at least a chance at catching some of that lightning in a bottle in a diocesan setting if we try. Who knows, maybe we’ll one day dust ourselves off from the last few decades of crisis and have strong cathedrals leading the way to the Divine once more.