The Most Epic Catholic COVID Party in the History of the United States

 

In January of 2021, a year into the lockdowns, a friend out West and I hatched a plan: escape the insanity of the COVID oppression that had metastasized across the U.S. by throwing a party and inviting every single Catholic we knew across the country. Her 40th birthday was coming up, and as a mother of ten, she had a big house. But that was just the cover: the reality is that every one we knew was fed up with masks, government overreach, Zoom everything, and the tension of uncertainty as to whether the world was ending of not. The time was ripe to do exactly what we weren't "allowed" to do during this unprecedented period in history: identify our people and be together as a bunch of loosely-connected strangers, talk shop as Catholics for when SHTF, and most importantly--have some freaking fun. 

We started to mobilize over Facebook and email, and I took on the bulk of getting the word out since I am a recruiter by trade. The premise was simple: a Nationwide Catholic party on February 20th, 2021 in Phoenix for anyone who was fed up with this abnormal state of life and could make it out. 

We weren't sure to expect, but like a album that drops at just the right time in the right conditions and goes Platinum or a high school party in the 90's, word spread fast. People from all over the country--from New Hampshire to New Jersey to Pennsylvania to Illinois to Florida to Oregon to California said "YES!" and started changing the oils in their car and booking flights. We were all Catholics on the same page and, at least for me, felt like we needed to find our people in this world and that being in person doing normal things was important. 

One woman (a good friend) drove cross country from the Northeast to Arizona because she refused to wear a mask on a plane. Others--one of my favorite Catholic couples of all time--drove from San Diego. The vast majority of these folks have large families and are authentically Catholic through and through. I stayed with K. for part of my time there in a spare room helping her prep for what seemed like a crazy social experiment, and with other friends D & P north of Phoenix for the rest. P. lent me his truck so I could meet up with C at a diner. I met up with an author friend for brunch. I connected with other people in person I had only known virtually up until then.

When the evening of the 20th came around, things started to pop. People really had committed to coming (not just talk about it, or say "cool idea!", and were showing up. By normal standards in normal circumstances, this would have just been a big Catholic house party where we drink and laugh and tell stories and do karaoke late into the night. But these weren't normal times, and to do "normal" things like this was essentially outlawed. These were normal (albeit, awesome and exceptional) Catholic folks who held their faith dear to their hearts, and the energy was one that would probably never be repeated given the circumstances. 

There was something about being together in person during this time that would never, and could never be replicated. It was also cathartic--so many of us were made to feel like extremists, radicals and subversives for not "trusting the science" and being firm in convictions. We needed to know we weren't crazy, that there were others like us out there, and that need demanded proof I think--something tangible, something real. Something that started with a crazy, random idea materialized and gave me hope in this small bloc of "my people" and that the Faith could survive in a hostile world if we stuck together and leaned on each other. 

A few of these people I have fallen out of touch with, but many I consider dear friends and stay in touch with, even if we don't talk regularly. When you're on the same page with the faith, you've found your people, even if they are spread out across the country. When you're not sure if this month will be your last before the world ends and everything goes to pot, it's comforting to know you have a tribe to call on for prayer, support, and yes--to party til dawn with.

"Wherever the Catholic sun doth shine, There's always laughter and good red wine." 

--Hilaire Belloc

Is Ecumenism a Dirty Word?

We travel in a few different circles, our family. Our old homeschool co-op was Christian based, we have many non-denominational Christian friends locally, and our son plays in a Christian (rather than secular) basketball league now. But we are firmly planted in our own traditional Catholic parish community, our Catholic co-op, and various other Catholic social circles. Our interactions are most always respectful, positive, and mutually-supportive, even though we belong to different faith traditions.

But it's strange times we are living in, isn't it? The culture wars are raging all around us, and sometimes there are unlikely allies. We had a Catholic guys pub night last weekend, and one of the guys (a father of 9) brought up the Muslim parents joining forces with the Christian parents in Detroit in protest of the sexualizing of children at a school board meeting. He said, "I'd almost rather have an on-fire Muslim in the trenches with me than a lukewarm Catholic when it comes to this stuff."

 So, I had a thought at work this afternoon, and I proposed to following to a Christian friend of mine via text:

"I would love to have a Catholic--Protestant party. Get together some great minds to meet on our common ground on a variety of topics. Whiskey or tea, hors d'oeuvres, fire, and good old fashioned discussion about what matters. And for mutual learning and enrichment."

So, I'm flushing out the idea here (on this post) because it's as good a place as any to get the thoughts out. I have as my ideal a meeting of Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, or Chesterton and...some other Christian intellectual heavyweight who enjoys good spirits. Here's what I was thinking:

-It would be by invitation only, and relatively small to start (8-10 individuals or couples); possibility of being a once-a-month get-togther.

-The 'topics for discussion' would be drafted ahead of time and presented with questions to aid the discussion.

-The bloc would consist of 50% Catholic participants and 50% Protestant.

-The purpose would be one of mutual-learning in a respectful manner (not aggressive conversion tactics). It would give opportunity for Catholics to present their beliefs as Catholics (hopefully to dispel prejudices) and give Protestant participants the opportunity to do so as well. 

-Each person present would have an opportunity to share with equal time; discussions would be informal, though would hopefully piggyback off more formal, prepared discussion topics.

It would also be important to lay down agreed-upon ground rules and set expectations ahead of time. The purpose of the time together would be:

-to learn about where our commonalities lie, so that we can join forces in the culture war

-to learn more about what others believe in their respective traditions to be well-rounded human beings. 

-to have robust philosophical and theological discussions over good food and drink, about the things that matter

-the topics would not be 'hot button' for the purpose of dissention, but challenging and nuanced enough to provide fruitful and intellectually stimulating discussion.

-the most important underlying quality that would have to be manifested among participants is listening, detachment, openness to learn, non-judgmental friendship, and respectful dialogue.

All that being said, does ecumenism have value? Is it something that should be cultivated or encouraged at all, by either Catholics or Protestants alike? Or is it just a hippy-dippy kumbaya ideal of the (Second Vatican) Council to encourage 'dialogue?'

I think the difference is if these people you are 'dialoguing' with are strangers or neighbors. I have a good friend, a faithful Christian man and dad, who is a mentor of sorts for me. We lean on each other in various capacities, and our interactions are always respectful. We sometimes are forced to navigate the precarious differences in our theology deftly, since our friendship feels greater than any theological differences we may have. In this case, Friendship>Theology

One of my favorite films is Of Gods And Men, the story of the Algerian Trappists who were kidnapped by Islamist terrorists in the 1990's (I believe), who lived among their Muslim neighbors. That, in my mind, is not religious syncretism and there is nothing hippy-dippy about it--just hard reality, and respectful co-existence. 

The past two years have been so crazy, maybe the vibe is right now to start something like this, very enjoyable and informal--just different friends coming together over a common purpose, when they may not have mixed together at all otherwise. Plus I need something to look forward to during the bleak days of winter after New Years!

Good idea? Bad idea? I'm willing to try anything once, as long as it is for the glory of Christ and the good of neighbor--Catholic, Protestant, or otherwise!

A Tale Of Two Parties

Twice a year we try to host a big outdoor gathering of Catholic families in our area. We travel in some different Catholic circles, so it's a good opportunity for other Catholics to eat, connect, and enjoy some fellowship for those whose paths might not cross otherwise. We figured God blessed us with this house and a bit of land, so it's up to us to give some of it back in offering. 

I have always loved to party, ever since high school (before I became a Christian). As an extroverted-introvert (an introvert with extroverted tendencies), it makes for an interesting dynamic, though. I do need my alone time, but too much of it and I start to get itchy to engage socially. Even after deciding to follow Christ, though, I didn't hang up my beer-pong cups. From college through my time living in Philly and beyond, I would try to throw the biggest parties, inviting anybody and everybody I knew, to fill the house to capacity. But it took a while to straighten out and do it soberly, enjoying the fruits of friendship and fellowship while avoiding sin and it's occasion.

As we were cleaning up after this Spring's event (we call it the bi-annual Catholic Family Fellowship) this afternoon, I was reflecting on how it is a marked difference when people of faith get together versus non-believers, even when 100+ people gather to, well, eat drink and be merry.

In "I Don't Belong Here Anymore," I recounted a bachelor party I attended about six years ago years ago:

"It was the summer of 2016, and I was in Colorado for a bachelor party. Now, ever since high school I have loved to party, and even as a new Catholic I never stopped. I went to parties, threw parties, and would party into the morning with friends. I never had a drinking problem, but temperance was a virtue I had trouble developing. I prayed, went to Mass every Sunday, read spiritual books, but was 'friends with the world" (John 15:19), trying to have my cake and eat it too.

This particular bachelor party I was not really looking forward to attending, but I had to, for various reasons. The guys were younger, and I knew they partied hard; I was getting older, but still susceptible to influence. The first day I tried to not partake in any of the revelry, but concupiscence and appetites are a funny thing, and by day 2 I was crushing the opposition in drinking games. I found myself mirroring Paul's words, "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do" (Rom 7:15)

At one point near the end of the weekend I went in my room in the mountain house the crew had rented, and sat on the bed. I wasn't in full on praying mode, but I was really hoping God could get me out of being there. No body else there seemed to have any pangs of conscience or problem with going full tilt since they weren't believers, and yet here I was, feeling the tension of having one foot in the world and one foot in the Church, not living as a good example as a Christian, and not be able to go in with full abandon either.

I always carried a small Gideon bible with me whenever I traveled. I took it out and sat on the bed and prayed a quick prayer for help. I remember to this day, I opened it and the first thing I read was

"Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry. Because of these, the wrath of God is coming. You used to walk in these ways, in the life you once lived. But now you must rid yourself of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips. Do not lie to each other, since you have taken off your old self with its practices and you have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator." (Col 3:5-10)

I was struck dumb. I recalled the story of St. Augustine in the garden, picking up the scriptures at the words he heard from a child, "Take up and read, take up and read." What he read was this:

"Not in carousing and drunkenness, not in sexual excess and lust, not in quarreling and jealousy. Rather, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the desires of the flesh." (Rom 13: 13-14)

I called a Christian friend back home, a man of integrity, and told him what had happened when I opened the scripture, what I landed upon, and how it cut to the heart and left me exposed to my inconsistency. He was encouraging, but in that room I felt alone in a crowd. I didn't belong there anymore."

What I enjoy about spending time with people of faith is we are all on the same page, and the temptation to drink to excess, engage in idle gossip, or frivolous conversation is greatly diminished. God gave us food, drink, and each other to enjoy in virtue, not for the sake of sin or indulgence. There is an underlying sense of wanting the good for one another in Christian charity in the bonds of our Catholic faith. Not that non-believers can't live virtuously or wholesomely, but as One Body there is something sacramental that builds up, rather than exists without purpose or meaning or happenstance. 

The other thing that was great was there were tons of kids. We had the space for them to run around and play games like hide and seek, sports and cornhole. Part of the purpose of these gatherings we host is for the kids to get the chance to build up friendships in a safe environment while sharing the communal elements of their faith. Two local priests also graced us with their presence, and given how busy they are these days, that was a nice bonus. The weather was looking a bit iffy beforehand, so my wife and I prayed for the intercession of St. Medard ten minutes prior to people coming over, and the forecast went from 90% chance of rain to 50% to zero in a matter of a half hour. Thank you St. Medard!

When my wife and had our first son, I had to ask a friend from college to be his godfather, because we had so few Catholic friends. Most of our partying/gathering back then were with my secular friends back in Philly, and we weren't plugged in with any Catholics, especially those with big families that considered it normal to have more than three or four kids. I still remember the pray I prayed in the spirit of St. Francis, "Lord, send me some brothers!" And He did! He also provided devout Catholic women our age for my wife as well.  

Part of Christian charity is learning to live in a way that doesn't always ask, "What can I get out of this or that?" but "What can I give?" Living out the virtues cultivates the hard-fought battle to learn selflessness, but when you are all doing it together and building one another up, it becomes easier. Even Jesus needed the women to wipe his face and Simon to help carry his cross on the way to Calvary. As Christians, and especially as Catholics, our road to Heaven is corporal, not individual. For families like ours and others, though, it helps when you are able to have a little fun and fellowship along the way.

Why Do People Go To The Bar When You Can Drink At Home?

 A couple nights ago I went to a talk at the local campus Oratory and convinced some friends to go too. It was a talk on faith and reason, and was academic in nature. It went over my head a little, but I still had a great time and felt like I got my intellectual culture for the month. There was also a reception afterwards where we could drink, eat, and talk. 

When I told a friend about the talk, he said, "Or you could just read the source material" and sent me a link to the encyclical by St. Pope John Paul II. Well, sure, I thought. "But then I wouldn't get to see and speak with other people...which is my favorite past time." I responded. 

I used to go to the bars a lot in college and my twenties. I was more introverted then, so it wasn't always easy to muster up the resolve to go out. And if it was really about drinking, I could save 75% of what I was spending at the bar by picking up a six pack and drinking in my apartment. 

But going to the bar (or out to eat, or a lecture you could zoom into) isn't really about the beer, or the food, or the content of the talk. It's about doing these things amongst other humans and feeding the social appetite. It's important, and fills something in us that hungers for this.

Even Mass fills this need. Of course our first priority is to worship God. But there is a communal element, which is why we don't worship isolated at home on the Sabbath, and why spiritual communions should be an exception, not a norm. We are not hermits; we are a collective as Catholics. 

I was in the office yesterday and the dynamics of our workplace have irrevocably changed since COVID. Whereas we would be in 5 days a week, a dozen or so of us at one time, now I am in 3 days a week and there is maybe 3 or us there at a time. A third of our staff have gone fully remote, and the rest are 40% remote. We are "working alone" in many ways a man "drinks alone." "Why go the bar and spend $6 a bottle when I can pick up a case for $30? It's more efficient anyway." I was literally in a building all day yesterday with one other person. We're doing the work as a team...we're just not doing it together, physically.

This should be the subject of sociological studies for years to come. Personally, I go out of my way now to seek out social activities, and host them, as a matter of intentionality, so those muscles don't atrophy. There's something inefficient, local, less streamlined and messy about in-person interaction. But there's something vital about it too, which I think we have been missing in a post-COVID world, something we don't even realize we need until you haven't had it in a while. 

Life isn't always meant to be 'optimized,' 'safe,' and 'more efficient.' There's value too in the messy in-person, the social space, the reading of body language and the engaging of the senses. 

So go to the bar with some friends. Host a gathering. Attend a lecture in person. Go out to eat. For Pete's sake...live life in real time and real space. Otherwise you might lose that social muscle memory that makes us human at our core. 

How To Build Catholic Community

 Last year I opened up an American Airlines credit card and within a year used free air miles to hit three cities: Phoenix, St. Louis, and Houston. When I was more active on Facebook, and when my base of friends began to shift to becoming almost exclusively people of faith, I began to visit friends across the country, well, just because. I found I held more in common with strangers who were Catholic than secular folks who I had been friends with for years. This is the joy of the faith.

I made the suggestion to a friend in Phoenix "We should have a Catholic party," and she said let's do it. Word got out, and people came from all over the country for a giant house party. This was during COVID when people were craving community under lockdown. It ended up being the best remedy. It was awesome. St. Louis is an incredible city to be Catholic--lots of Catholic history and heritage, beautiful old parishes, and strong traditional communities. My base there started with a couple online friends, but built up like seven degrees of Kevin Bacon. I've been there twice so far, and would love to get back for a third. My trip to Houston was two-fold in nature--to visit a buddy (whom I had met on Facebook) and scout out his strong men's group to get ideas for the one we were building up back on the East Coast. Had a great few days experiencing Texas hospitality at my friend's house, smoking meats (and cigars) and drinking whiskey with other Catholic men.

Because I am a recruiter for work, I've been trained to, well, recruit. When I pitch, I realize I have a few seconds max to make a case to someone to listen to what I have to say (the 'elevator speech'). As a recruiter, you have to be somewhat outgoing, approachable, informative, inviting without being aggressive, and make a case that you are worth listening to. Follow-up is important, as you ultimately want someone to commit to your product or service; its also just good customer service to do so. 

The Catholic Church has survived two thousand years in large part by grace and the Holy Spirit, not because of good marketing. I remember once calling multiple parish offices about something, and not even getting a call back. I also have spoken to more than one person on occasion who was curious about the Catholic faith but was turned off by the parish secretary "gatekeeper" making them jump through hoops for this or that that they just never returned. The fact is, the Church could easily do a lot to address the low hanging fruit of evangelization if they truly want to grow. The question is, do they? 

The writer Hilaire Belloc famously noted, "As a Catholic, my faith tells me that the Church has a divine origin, but my own experience tells me that it must be divine because no human institution run with an equal mixture of ineptitude and wickedness would have lasted a fortnight."

Sometimes a parish will hire a "Director of Evangelization" or something to that effect to address this need, which would seem laudable. Personally, though, I content that the most effective programs are not "programs" at all, but grass roots efforts that build from the ground up, not the top down. When it comes to building Catholic community, I have found this is the best approach.

The area we live in is not a powerhouse of Catholicism. In fact, the Northeast U.S. is largely a wasteland area of "beige Catholicism" and uninspiring 1970's era suburban parishes. But what my wife and I found after intentionally working to draw Catholic families in our area together the past few years, is that there ARE in fact lots of families "out there," but disconnected and isolated. We know this because we felt the same way--like a Catholic island in a sea of secularism and lukewarmness. 

The nondemoninational churches in the area would entice fellow Catholics with something they desired: belonging, fellowship, and community. Visit any evangelical church and you will find a sizable portion of so called "ex-Catholics" that comprise their congregations. All because a Christian from that particular church took the initiative to extend an invitation to get plugged in to their worship community.

We can do the same! Here's what I find has worked for us in one way or another:

-Take the initiative to approach someone after Mass.

 This can take you out of your comfort zone, since as Catholics we are so good about sticking to ourselves and hightailing it of the parking lot after Mass. But you might be surprised the traction you can get from simply saying to someone afterwards, "Hi, my name is ____. What's your name?" Be friendly without being overly-aggressive, while respecting personal boundaries and sensibilities. But be a "closer" too--don't be afraid to offer your email address or phone number, or take theirs if they feel comfortable giving it to you. And if you do, be sure to follow up with a friendly "It was nice to meet you," to establish a non-threatening point of contract. 

-Host a gathering

We have done this a few times over the past couple years. We are blessed with a decent backyard and personally, I like to host events and parties, so it's not "work" for me (my wife is more introverted, but she's a good sport and indulges me). So, what we do is gather up all our emails and phone numbers of the Catholic contacts we have made, set a date a few weeks out, and say "Just come, and bring your friends." We offer the forum and space for God to work (simply giving back to Him what He has given to us), but it happens organically and naturally. Don't overcomplicate it, or stress out about details. Offer some simple food and drink, invite people to bring something, and make it about the people and fellowship. When I would help run orientation for our incoming graduate students for work, I would tell people "they will not notice all the things that go wrong, or that you ran out of this-or-that giveaway, but they will remember how you made them feel when they set foot on campus, and if you were smiling and happy to be there or not." Food is the icing, company is the cake, as they say. We were shooting for a crowd of one hundred this weekend after Mass, but I think we came in around sixty or so. Next time! My attitude is always "the more the merrier." 

-Establish some small-groups

One of the neat by-products of these larger gatherings is that sub-groups begin to form naturally. Our men's group developed organically in this way three years ago, and more recently the wives of the men have formed their own social group, including book clubs, tea get togethers, and nights out. This is also a nice, less intimidating way to invite men and women into fellowship in a single-sex environment. I'm proud of my wife for sometimes getting out of her comfort zone as an introvert to minister to and interact with other women when she may be just inclined to stay home or be less social. One nice thing about this too is that the "I know a guy" network builds: need a Catholic lawyer? I know a guy. Struggling with something? So-and-so is a great listener and kind soul. Trying to plug in to a homeschool co-op? Here are four phone numbers of moms with kids in our area heading one up.

These are just three examples of things you can do to build Catholic community wherever you are in the country or world. Like all things, it can take a little effort and sometimes takes us out of our comfort zone. The seemingly-trite adage "Be the change you want to see in the world" seems to apply. Are you lonely, feeling disconnected, looking for fellowship? Maybe God wants to make things happen, but needs YOU to take the first step. As Catholics, we have the Truth, and truth is always attractive. Sometimes this is enough to draw people into the Church. But we also want them to stay. Sometimes fellowship can be that missing link to prevent the all-too-common attrition of Catholics being pilfered off.

I used to pray during those times like St. Francis, "Lord, send me some brothers." And He did! It has also helped my faith tremendously to know I am not alone, not an island, and have other people of faith to lean on.How many people, then, may now be feeling this way, and are just waiting for someone to extend an invitation to them? Take a chance, step out in faith. After all, maybe that someone that people are waiting for an invitation from....is you!

"He Who Lives Well Will Die Well": The Joy of A Happy Christian Death

 My buddy's father died last Thursday. He had suffered a sudden brain aneurysm and by the time he was flown to the hospital, it was too late. We had just seen each other not too long ago at church for a baptism, and at a play that my kids and my buddy's kids were in. He was happily married for 54 years to his wife and best friend, and they had six children together. He was an active parishoner at St. Robert Bellarmine parish for 42 years, serving on the parish council and Pre-Cana team, organizing their parish March For Life bus trip to Washington D.C. with his wife, and as a lector, extraordinary minister, and a weekday altar server.

Strange as it sounds, apart from my mother-in-law's passing five years ago (also from a brain aneurysm, ironically), death is a bit of a foreign thing for me. All my grandparents died either before I was born or when I was too young to remember much. I had a few friends of friends who died suddenly in high school who I heard about through the grapevine. So I haven't experienced the sting of death as acutely as many have. I'm sure my time will come; no one of us can escape it.

 By circumstance, my buddy had forgotten his wallet back home two states over during all of this (and some other concurrent events they were also dealing with simultaneously), and I offered to shuttle it up to him at his parent's house this evening. You never really know when it comes to death how people will respond or what state of being they are in. It's kind of our default mode to put on our mourning face in solidarity when you walk into a room of family members who have experienced sudden loss and are in the midst of getting affairs in order and planning the funeral. But I had a feeling, knowing the faith of my buddy, his parents, and his siblings, that it might be a different affair. Exiting the turnpike and about fifteen minutes out he texted me a different address to meet him at--he and his brothers and sisters had gone out for a bit to play pickleball.

When I arrived at the courts, my buddy came over to meet me with his usual smile and we embraced. I joked with him about not wanting to get pulled over carrying the wallet of an Islamic terrorist (making reference to his ten inch long Osama Bin Laden beard that we're always razzing him about). He laughed and offered me a paddle. It was a humid summer's evening, and the five of us were the only ones out sweating on the courts. We won a match and lost a match, falling to his sister's wicked backspin. 

As we walked back down the path to our respective cars, I made mention to my buddy, "Your dad lived a good life, and we have the assurance of faith in Christ. I don't know how people live without faith, honestly." "Isn't that the truth," he replied, adding when I asked about his mom that she was doing well and happy the whole family was together. 

The naturalness of the evening--knowing that the end is not really the end for those with faith--was a testament in and of itself to the promises of our Savior. I did not have to hide my smiles, and while we offered Masses for my friend's father a few days ago to be welcomed into happy repose, my friend and his family were not subject to the existential crisis that those without faith often are. Ask any priest who has ever presided over a funeral for a family without faith and they will tell you the same. It's never easy of course, but as Christians we aren't left holding the pieces necessarily, trying to make sense of everything apart from God's will and promises.  

St. Robert Bellarmine (another irony, perhaps?) wrote with profound simplicity in The Art of Dying Well, 

"Those who live well will die well." 

My buddy's father lived by faith, and lived well. By whatever mystery of God's will he was called back, that assurance will be a monument to his family in perpetuity, and an example to those who look to see the evidence of faith in the world--that Christians need not fear death when they have lived well and placed their trust in the tender mercy of the Divine Savior. Deo Gratias.

In your charity, please pray for the repose of the soul of Leonard Cline, (June 14, 1943-July 1, 2021).