When Church is a club but not exclusive

By Bishop Mervyn Alexander Auxiliary of Clifton
In some districts the remark: "We don't go to Church, Father, we go to the club," might he dis
couraging ; in other places it might simply mean (hat the speaker is one of the large number of Catholics whose regular place of worship is a Mass centre rather than a parish church.
If you look at the statistics in your diocesan year book, you may be surprised at the number of churches, chapels and halls where Mass is said in addition to the parish 'churches. This can mean a lot of travelling for clergy on a Sunday morning to bring the Mass to the people.
This is what lies behind a laconic directory entry such as: "Serves also Bruton, Castle
Cary, Milborne Port and Mere." It sounds like a country
bus route, and a Sunday morning drive can be quite pleasant in good weather. However, in winter the prospect is not so attractive and heavy snow or floods may occasionally make it impossible for the priest to get through. In a big city only a few hundred yards may separate one church from the next. In Bristol, for example, the planners apparently took seriously the in junction concerning a Sabbath day's journey, and so the majority of Catholics would be within the permitted thousand yards of the nearest church or chapel, In Liverpool or Manchester the distances are even smaller. The cities often need their Mass centres as well, because the population has shifted away from the churches
clustered in the city centre. People who have moved to the new estates may continue for a time to travel back to their former parish church, but not many will keep this up for long.
Often the parishes on the outskirts find that they have to plan
Mass centres on new housing estates to make provision for the newcomers who need to be gathered together quickly before they lose the habit of worship.
It is often hard for people to accept the change from a familiar city church to a hall which still bears the traces of Saturday nights' activities. It is sad to see a church declared redundant or demolished to make way for a new traffic system.
We may see such events as a reminder of the pilgrim nature of the Church of God. It is a Lesson of scripture, theology and history — but so hard to learn. In country districts Mass centres may be a necessity if as many people as possible are to have the opportunity of attending Mass. But services on a Sunday morning are infrequent to non-existent, and not every family has a car.
It is good to see that drivers are usually prepared to bring others to Mass, and in many areas a car rota is in operation to help the elderly and infirm, as
well as those who live at a distance. Every parish needs to give a lot of thought to the problems and possibilities of L ransport Ore must also pay tribute to the generous husbands (and wives) not of our Faith, who bring their families to Mass. Sbmetimes the priest will pick up part of the congregation on his way, as in the parish of Cinderford. Gloucestershire, where the priest drives to Isydney to celebrated Mass in the town hail.
I love visiting Mass centres because dl' their almost infinite variety, ranging from a fullgrown church to a room at the inn, not to mention a converted stable and an upper room. The whole of Christian history is there.
Always I remember the upper room at .Downton in Wiltshire, where there were high kneelers, but no chairs. When the time came for the sermon, the congregation turned its collective back on the preacher.
Occasionally someone would look over his shoulder to see if you were still there or had disappeared like a bad dream. If everyone looked round at once you were in the best traditions ofJohn Chrysostom or had gone on too long.
Of the churches, the most wonderful of all is All Saints, Wardour, Wiltshire, a unique expression of the faith and worship of the Catholics, of 1776. It crowned generations of heroism in devotion to the Mass.
The church has been beautifully restored in recent years. Wardour is one of the few places which can cope with the problem of a bishop who forgets his mitre. A well-known local family can produce the mitre that Bishop Walmesley wore 200 years ago.
Two tiny chapels for the connoisseur are Our Lady of Pity, Dinton, Wiltshire, and St. Dominic's, Mel's, Somerset. Dinton is surely the smallest chapel in the country to possess
a gallery. The priest can stand at the altar and shake hands with the people upstairs. At Mells one is inevitably reminded of Mgr. Ronald Knox and his book "The Mass in Slow Motion", because it was in this unhurried setting that he spent his last years.
The cosmopolitan nature of the congregation at Mass centres never fails to surprise.At Hullavington, Wiltshire, one meets people from South America, at Moreton-in-Marsh, Gloucestershire there may be a recent arrival from Borneo.
There is something profoundly reassuring about the presence of overseas Catholics at a Mass celebrated in the depths of the English countryside.
One can see the value of Mass centres for groups of immigrants so that the Mass may be celebrated according to their needs, but their presence at the ordinary Mass is an inspiration to local Catholics even if we so often fail to make them feel welcome.
Often the priest has to transport everything necessary for Mass, vestments, candles and all the rest. In fact he does, somewhat more openly, what the priest often did in penal times — bring all the material things needed so that he and the people can realise the Church as an event.
Parishioners often play a .great part in the fetching and carrying, the cleaning and preparation of the hall or chapel. The practical devotion of those who keep the Mass centres going is a precious part of Catholic life.
The atmosphere of a garish church may be missing and some Catholics would find this so great a loss: as to prefer to travel any distance to ars'church. But the makeshift Mass centre may sometimes have a friendliness and an informality that can make up for the setting. More and more people have had experience of house Masses, and to such people the Mass centre atmosphere is natural enough.
We all have our own private preferences in setting, us in other aspects that may vary while still observing the principles of the Church's liturgical guidance.
To a person who had always attended Mass in the village hall, the solemn liturgy of a great city church might seem strange, but one would hope that he would still recognise the structure of the Mass as familiar and he aware of the identity of Christ's sacrifice in spite of' the unfamiliar presentation.
Upper room to Roman basilica, cathedral to village hall, the Mass is itself, whatever the setting. This truth was more obvious in the less personal liturgy of former days, but it is even more important now.
A Mass centre is often a stepping stone to something more permanent, although in other places the numbers never seem likely to warrant anything i more than the Sunday Mass n the hall.
Where there is a need foi a special building, there may be an opportunity for an ecumenical project, and one would also look at the ways in which the building might be used during the week.
In other words, would it he possible to share the use of the building with other Christians and with local residents? Such sharing might be practicable at the Mass centre level, when it might be impossible in a parish church. Sometimes already the Mass centre is a present or former church or chapel of another denomination.
Two other factors may contribute to an increase in the number of Mass centres. The shortage of clergy means that parishes may have to be merged.
It has also been suggested that the priests serving a particular area may live in a community rather than each priest living in his own parish, but the idea does not seem very popular with the clergy.
Some theologians addicted to clairvoyance have thought that the future Church would have no buildings but would meet in small groups to celebrate the Mass. In this case the present Mass centres anticipate the future, but such prophecies seem unduly pessimistic.
In addition to the witness of people, surely one needs the witness of church buildings as reminders of the glory of God and as making possible the gathering of a great congregation in a setting where everything speaks to one of God.
Certainly the house Mass has come to stay, and surely small groups will have an important part to play in the life of the Church. For many people in a big parish such small groups could be an experience of the societary nature of the Church: one cannot really expect everyone to know everyone in the same way as in a country parish.
St. Ignatius of Antioch liked to speak about the local Christian community as the charity of that place, and so he refers to "the charity of Smyrna". Not in an exclusive but in a representative sense, the Mass centre congregation reminds one of that phrase, the charity of that place, gathered to celebrate the charity of Christ.
The Mass centre is a reminder of apostolic times, a sign of hope and growth, as priest and people meet to consecrate a time and a place and themselves in the celebration of the Holy Mass.