In so many ways, it has replaced the pub as a meeting place, a stop-off point for anyone and everyone to pause a while over a hot coffee, to read or have a chat.

Across the world, café names have become an integral part of the High Street, an international brand that is immediately recognized.

The café has become commonplace, each with its own character, furnishings and specialities.

Even though they are not quiet places, maybe, in fact, because of it, they do provide a comfort zone where words arrive and stories develop.

Often an overheard phrase finds its way into something I am writing, sparks a movement, and stimulates an idea, only to re-emerge in a poem or article phrase sometime later.

I always carry with me a book to read and a notebook for writing, for they are part of what I do when I find a comfortable seat and order a cappuccino.

I have met a good many and varied people in the café, a passing nod of ten minutes conversation, unlikely to be repeated again, but informative and enjoyable while it lasted, some help on the way.

The staff who serve become familiar faces and, with frequent visits, have remembered names.

The history of the café goes back hundreds of years.

In the 17th and 18th centuries, the café was a well-established, cosmopolitan meeting place, not only for social exchange but as a place where business might be conducted.

The world-renowned London Stock Exchange started trading in Jonathan's Coffee House in 1698 in the City. Other well-known establishments, such as Christies and Sotheby's, developed from the café gathering of interested merchants and businessmen.

It is not uncommon nowadays for laptops to be set open on tables, with a tapping of keys heard between sips of coffee and the person using it to be illuminated by the screen.

Apart from the convivial meeting place after the school run or an alcohol-free zone for a relaxing chat, they can also be places for serious exchange, for stories to be told and a time of careful listening.

"Meet me for a coffee sometime soon" can be another way of saying, "I have something to say, will you listen with me?"

Nourished by the Eucharist

Those churches that have a parish hall where groups can gather after sharing the Eucharist are indeed fortunate.

It raises the question as to whether or not community arises from Eucharistic sharing or does our Eucharist spring from the gathering we often call parish.

Either way, humans are gathering creatures, anxious to share in so many ways.

It is natural for us to share with each other and, along with company, to eat and drink together. It's what we do.

So our journey goes on day by day, nourished by the Eucharist, our presence helps others with their problems and difficulties.

Look around at the other tables the next time you are in a café; watch the expressions on the faces of those who sit and drink and talk, who stretch out a gentle hand in comfort to a friend.

Friendship is about both laughing and crying together, sharing the load.

I have just received a new collection of poems by the young Irish poet, Kerrie O'Brien. One of them, entitled "Hemingway" concludes with these lines:

How could he be so close
And I not know it
The worst time to search
Whiteout, blizzard sleet
I hadn't eaten
The hunger raw and persisting
But he led me
And right where he lived
A café
Rose star
In the wilderness
Warm jewel
Run by an American woman
Big hearted
Who took me in
And gave me a muffin
Flooded with raspberry
Bloodsweet, glittering, hot.
It then came
A thudding chant
Be still, still
In the howling
Have faith
Just a little longer

Maybe her last two lines — Have faith, Just a little longer — form the core of the Epiphany we live when sharing the Eucharist, nattering in the parish hall or being with strangers in the café.

It is the daily expression of our being Christian.

• Chris McDonnell is from England and is a regular contributor to La Croix International.
• First published in La-Croix International. Republished with permission.

Dwindling numbers of churchgoers, volunteers and income are being being blamed.

Bishop Jan Hendricks unveiled plans to around 90 parish administrators in the Haarlem-Amsterdam diocese last month.

The 450-year old diocese dates back to 1559. It covers North Holland, the southern part of Flevoland province and includes Amsterdam.

Hendricks, who has led the diocese since 2020, said the pandemic accelerated already shrinking numbers of faithful churchgoers, volunteers and choirs. Different Sunday worship formats have also developed.

Figures show Mass attendance has fallen from more than 25,000 people in 2013 to 12,000 in 2021.

Sixty percent of Catholic churches - 99 of the diocese's 164 - will have to close in five years, says Hendricks.

Of the remaining 65 churches, he says 37 could continue for five to 10 years as "support churches". That would leave just 28 "central churches" considered viable in the long term.

While the diocese doesn't have a list of churches that will be closed, local communities will be asked to designate "central churches".

"The idea is to create 28 active places of evangelisation. And we hope that the parish priests and parish boards can realise that," Hendricks says.

The diocese has been trying to reduce its church buildings since 2004.

Rural Catholics are likely to be worst affected, says one priest.

A letter from the diocese about church closures didn't come as much of a surprise, he says.

"We were in fact already in the planning phase of closing down one of our rural churches with a turn-up of maybe 15 every other week.

"We have been asked to close two churches in the next three years, and we will probably have to close one or two more in the two years following.

"This will be harder as there is no ‘natural process'.

"Communities that still feel some vigour in them will have to be asked to wind down, and this is a difficult thing."

Churchgoers might feel challenged by a "perceived volte-face" over church closures, he says.

"To those ‘more in the loop,' however, the change is less big.

"We did feel this coming, and these are necessary decisions to make. Church attendance consistently halves every 10 years and has done for decades on end.

"In 10 years, we're looking at 30 larger parishes with a hopefully diverse offering of liturgies and activities — small parishes simply can't offer this.

"A challenge in all of this will be that I fear all of the remaining parishes will be in urban areas. How will we service the countryside? I have no answer at this time."

However, Vicar general Msgr Bart Putter says younger people and families are "more than willing" to drive 45 minutes to church.

"People who really want to go to church now are more motivated than in the past. But it's a smaller number," he says.

Source

• The Pillar

St Bernard's parish church in Brookyn held its last mass on 10 April. It will close altogether in the coming months.

St Bernard's parish priest Fr Doug Shepherd says earthquake strengthening work was needed on the body of the church.

Other than that, it was in good condition for its age, he says.

"The church is 110 years old and needed extensive repairs as time went by.

"What really needed work was the presbytery. The presbytery needed insulation and piping as well as hundreds of thousands of dollars of other small maintenance that was too much to maintain."

Although St Bernard's was merged several years ago with other Catholic churches to become part of the Catholic Parish of Wellington South, it was sacrificed to save other church buildings in the parish, said the parish priest.

Shepherd acknowledged the church would have to close at some stage.

The congregations were getting too low - not just in Brooklyn itself, but throughout Wellington.

Net donations were falling and more churches were having to merge or close.

The pandemic exacerbated the problem, Shepherd notes.

He says elderly people, who were St Bernard's main congregation, had not been regularly attending church due to the pandemic.

"The congregation is not what it was.

"We had to look at our assets, the cost of maintaining the church was too high for the low numbers attending. We had to look at the future."

Shepherd says whether the 110-year old Wellington church would be sold or kept as a heritage site is a decision for the Wellington South leadership team to make.

In the meantime, all the holy artefacts will be removed and the church will be decommissioned by the bishop.

Although the church has closed, masses in the hilltop Brooklyn suburb will continue.

St Bernard's community will keep gathering in the assembly hall at St Bernard's School, which is just over the road from the church.

Source

• Scoop (Viewed 17 May, 2021)
• Image: Catholic Parish of Wellington South