Before I visit a new parish, I usually check out their website and read their bulletins. I look for the types of ministries they have to discover the focus of the parish and the breadth of their community involvement. I look at the language the parish uses to describe itself. I’m wary of churches that don’t use St. So-and-So’s Catholic Church in their title, in favor of St. So-and-So’s Catholic Community. Likewise, I’m wary of parishes that describe themselves as “inclusive communities”. While every parish everywhere should be inclusive and I’m big on the importance of community, too often “inclusive community” is code for gay-friendly parish, where the fullness of Catholic morality is not being taught. I look at their pictures online, which can often tell me something about the way in which Mass is celebrated there. I check out the type of speakers who are promoted by the parish.
I prefer to worship in a more traditional, beautiful church, but I don’t hold it against a parish if they are stuck with a building built in the 1980s. Most likely, the current priest had nothing to do with the design of the church and does the best he can with what he’s got.
When I’m traveling, I’m usually happy with what I get. Jesus is there, I am there. I always know that I belong, because I’m in a Catholic Church. I do wish that there was more friendliness and welcoming of visitors -Catholic and non-Catholic alike. I don’t mean that awkward, fake-feeling, “Will all the visitors please stand so that we can welcome you.” or “Please turn and greet your neighbor” before Mass, but a genuine and heartfelt friendliness and welcoming spirit. I have been ignored in Catholic parishes all across this great land, from small-town parishes in the Great Plains to big-city Cathedrals. The few exceptions stand out in my mind decades later. (Several parishes across the state of Oregon and a particular parish in Puerto Rico come immediately to mind.)