This analysis began with the question, “Does the bishop matter?” It arrives at an interesting pair of conclusions. The first is that there is no problem ailing the Catholic Church in America that is not being addressed successfully in some place, and typically in multiple places. Second, there is a cadre of bishops, invisible to the national media, largely unknown outside their dioceses, absent from Washington political circles, who are trulyunsung heroes of the Church, presiding over vibrant communities, building the Church, and effectively proclaiming the Faith—men such as Bishop Joseph Kurtz of Knoxville, Archbishop Michael Sheehan of Santa Fe, and Bishop Daniel Conlon of Steubenville, to name just a few.
So to the original question: Does the bishop matter? To be sure, among the local Catholic laity, the bishop has a certain celebrity; his visits to our parishes are occasions. Faithful Catholics monitor the comings and goings of the episcopate with more than passing interest. But does a particular bishop really affect, for better or ill, the health of the Church in his see?
The first consideration in answering this question is whether variations in the vitality of the American dioceses can be detected, such that some dioceses can be said to be unusually robust and others unusually anemic. Absent such variations, there is nothing to attribute to the bishop. After all, the Church in America as a whole is beset by macro trends, such as the emergence of a now-dominant (and hostile) secular culture. All dioceses swim, as it were, in the same sea. Our question is whether some are better swimmers than others.
This is a PDF file of a survey published in 2006. It is fascinating nonetheless. RC ping!!!!!!
Wow...how proud I am that my diocese, the Archdiocese of Hartford, is ranked at the bottom overall...
I tried to get most (of the salient points) from the article and compiled them below. Hope this helps.
The State of the Catholic Church in America, Diocese by Diocese
This analysis began with the question, “Does the
bishop matter?” It arrives at an interesting pair of
conclusions. The first is that there is no problem
ailing the Catholic Church in America that is not being addressed
successfully in some place, and typically in multiple
places. Second, there is a cadre of bishops, invisible to the
national media, largely unknown outside their dioceses,
absent from Washington political circles, who are truly
unsung heroes of the Church, presiding over vibrant communities,
building the Church, and effectively proclaiming
the Faith—men such as Bishop Joseph Kurtz of Knoxville,
Archbishop Michael Sheehan of Santa Fe, and Bishop Daniel
Conlon of Steubenville, to name just a few.
So to the original question: Does the bishop matter?
To be sure, among the local Catholic laity, the bishop has
a certain celebrity; his visits to our parishes are occasions.
Faithful Catholics monitor the comings and goings of the
episcopate with more than passing interest. But does a particular
bishop really affect, for better or ill, the health of the
Church in his see?
The first consideration in answering this question is
whether variations in the vitality of the American dioceses
can be detected, such that some dioceses can be said to be
unusually robust and others unusually anemic. Absent such
variations, there is nothing to attribute to the bishop. After
all, the Church in America as a whole is beset by macro
trends, such as the emergence of a now-dominant (and hostile)
secular culture. All dioceses swim, as it were, in the
same sea. Our question is whether some are better swimmers
than others.
But if, on the other hand, differentiations among dioceses
are observable, then a judgment can be rendered as to the
extent to which those differentiations are attributable to the
bishop. How we judge the health of the dioceses depends in
part on available data, and in part on how we view the role
of the bishop, the successor to the apostles. In keeping with
the thoughts of the third chapter of Lumen Gentium, we expect
the bishop first of all to tend to the well-being of his priests.
He must also guard the stability of the Church by taking personal
responsibility for providing a growing population of
priests through vocations. We expect the bishop to evangelize
the area encompassed by his see, to be a steadfast teacher
of the Faith and a holy shepherd to his flock, after the image
and example of the Good Shepherd.
This characterization suggests three criteria of evaluation:
the morale of the presbyterate, the number of vocations,
and effective evangelization. As for data, each Latin
rite diocese in the United States (of which there are 176,
excluding Puerto Rico and territories) annually submits a
wealth of information to the Official Catholic Directory, published
by P. J. Kenedy and Sons. Not only are these data
considerably more extensive than those reported by the
Vatican via the Annuario Pontificio, it is voluntary (that is, not
ordained by Church authority), and so it is quite remarkable
that every diocese in the country participates.
The Official Catholic Directory reports, for example, that
the total number of persons claimed as adherents by the
dioceses was 65,996,019 at the end of 2005, a 19 percent
increase from ten years earlier1. During this same ten-year
period, the American population grew by 13 percent (and
the Hispanic population by 57 percent); i.e., the population
of U.S. Catholics is growing at a higher rate than the
U.S. population as a whole. American dioceses collectively
claimed as adherents 22 percent of the population of the
United States, consistent with the results of national surveys
of public opinion, which generally peg self-identified
Catholics in a range of 22 percent to 24 percent of the
general public. It is interesting that our dioceses claim as
Catholics persons who have not recently (if ever) set foot
in church. In surveys, inactive Catholics—unlike most denominations—
continue to self-identify as Catholics long
after they have stopped attending Mass. We would not expect
these inactive Catholics to be on the radar screens of
the dioceses, yet apparently they are.
The dioceses collectively reported 911,935 infant baptisms
for 2005, representing 22 percent of persons born in
the past year. This figure belies the belief that the Catholic
Church is expanding through a higher rate of birth.
The American dioceses received 149,306 adults into the
Church, up 6 percent from ten years earlier—which was
just one-fifth of 1 percent of the total number of adherents,
not a dramatic source of growth.
As the body of the faithful was growing over the past
decade, the national presbyterate was declining. At the end
of 1995, there were 22,070 active diocesan priests in service
of the Church; by the end of 2005, this number was 18,102,
an 18 percent decrease. Of course, one cause of the decline
was the retirement of the presbyterate and a low rate of
ordination. Ten years ago, the vocations crisis had already
struck so that in 1995, 398 diocesan ordinations occurred,
versus 335 in 2005. While that represents a 15 percent decline
in the number of ordinations overall, ordinations as a
percentage of the active presbyterate—in other words, the
replacement rate—actually rose slightly from 1995 to 2005.
Still, at a 2 percent rate of ordination (the 2005 figure), diocesan
priests would have to serve an average of 50 years
to maintain our current population of priests. In 1995, 45
dioceses reported no ordinations, and four reported ten or
more. In 2005, 48 dioceses had no ordinations, and three
had ten or more.
In the face of declining ordinations, some dioceses are
resorting to the importation of extern priests, resulting in
29 dioceses that experienced an increase in the number of
active priests from 1995 to 2005, either because of the success
of their extern strategy or because of unusual success
in attracting vocations, or both. And the phrase “attracting
vocations” is today particularly apt. Whereas once it would
have been exceedingly rare for a young man to enter the
priesthood outside of the diocese in which he grew up, today
diocese-shopping is more common. We have reports of
seminarians selecting their diocese based on a scan of Web
sites. The persona of the bishop is therefore all the more
important in attracting vocations, both from without and
from within.
Criteria of Diocesan Health
The change in the total number of adherents in a diocese
was not taken as a measure of the health of a diocese, as this
dynamic has more to do with the population migrations of
our increasingly mobile society and is therefore well beyond
the competence of a bishop to affect. Sixty-eight dioceses
(39 percent) lost adherents between 1995 and 2005, while
59 dioceses (34 percent) experienced moderate growth and
49 dioceses (28 percent) saw dramatic growth. Predictably,
half of the dioceses reporting a declining number of adherents
are in the states of the Industrial Midwest (from Pennsylvania
to Minnesota), but population erosion is also prevalent
in the Northeast. On the other hand, half of the dioceses in
Pacific Coast states and nearly half in the South are growing
dramatically (20 percent–plus in the ten-year period). There
is significant correlation between a diocese’s growth rate and
other indicators of vitality, but we suspect this correlation
has more to do with the regional effect, on which more will
be said later. Within each of these categories of growth (negative,
moderate, and dramatic), there are both very vibrant
and anemic dioceses—indicating that, while growing dioceses
tend to be vibrant, a growing population of adherents
does not in and of itself ensure a vibrant diocese.
Returning to those functions proper to a bishop, priestly
morale is not available to us directly as quantitative data.
But as a surrogate datum, we know whether the number of
active priests in a diocese is increasing or decreasing. To be
sure, priestly retirements are mostly—but not totally—beyond
the influence of the bishop. But in addition to attracting
extern priests to the diocese, the bishop can contribute
to a climate in which priests remain eager to serve beyond
the earliest opportunity for retirement. In the words of a
longtime observer, “The experience of the Church is that
the influence of the bishop over his priests is very real.”
Then, of course, the number of ordinations in each
diocese can be examined, and for reasons discussed above,
bishops are ever more influential over vocations; as one put
it, “Increasingly men are seeking out congenial bishops and
seminaries.” Finally, the number of adult receptions into the
Church is an excellent measure of the local church’s investment
in and success at evangelization activities.
Take a look at these three measures in turn.
Changes in Active Presbyterate, 1995–2005
Twenty-nine dioceses (16 percent) experienced an increase
in the number of active priests between 1995 and 20052 (see
table on page 15). The most outstanding diocese by this
measure is Tyler, Texas (see sidebar on page 14), which experienced
a 128 percent increase in active priests (from 25
to 57). Brownsville, Texas, was second with a 64 percent
increase.
Five dioceses saw no change in the number of active
priests between 1995 and 2005, leaving 141 dioceses with
a declining number of active priests. The decline was most
pronounced in Camden, New Jersey (down 43 percent);
Amarillo, Texas (down 42 percent); Albany, New York
(down 41 percent); and Rochester, New York (down 40 percent).
We rank by the percentage change in the presbyterate
so as not to discriminate against larger dioceses.
Ordinations, 2005
Rather than looking at the total number of priests ordained
in 2005, we rank dioceses by the number of ordained priests
as a percentage of the total active presbyterate (see table
on page 15). This eliminates discrimination against smaller
dioceses. The leading diocese by this measure is Las Cruces, New Mexico, which in 2005 ordained 14 percent of
its presbyterate (three new priests out of 21 total). At the
other end of the spectrum, 48 dioceses saw no ordinations,
the largest of which is Galveston–Houston, Texas, with 1.5
million adherents. The top-ranked dioceses by the actual
number of ordinations are Chicago (17); St. Paul–Minneapolis
(15); and Newark, New Jersey (12).
Adults Received into the Church
Of course the baptism of infants is an important measure
of the Church’s evangelical activities, but a better measure,
more reflective of the efforts of the local church to engage
the community, is the number of adults received by the
Church into full communion (see table on page 16). Again,
to prevent putting smaller dioceses at a disadvantage, we
examined receptions as a percentage of adherents. The
most successful diocese—Kansas City–St. Joseph in Missouri—
reportedly experienced a 3.2 percent reception rate,
followed by neighboring Springfield–Cape Girardeau (1.3
percent) and Helena, Montana (1.1 percent). The lowest reception
rate was 0.05 percent, experienced by the dioceses
of Fall River, Massachusetts, and Allentown, Pennsylvania.
Leaders in terms of aggregate number of adult receptions
were Phoenix (5,644); Brownsville, Texas (5,015); and Los
Angeles (4,375).
Summary Rating of Dioceses
If these three measures imperfectly reflect the vitality of the
dioceses, they are a pretty good start. The change in the
size of the priesthood and the effort invested in increasing
vocations and adult receptions do say something fundamental
about the state of the dioceses. Some dioceses excel
in one area and not others; the most healthy dioceses excel
in all three.
In order to arrive at a composite rating, each diocese
was ordered by each of these three measures, and the ranks
were added together. The lower the score, the better the
rank; the best possible score, therefore, is a three, meaning
the diocese ranked first in the nation on all three measures.
The higher the score, the worse the relative condition of
the diocese (see tables on pages 17 and 23–26).
Like most products of statistical analysis, this rating
scheme has its defects. It is, at best, an approximation of the
reality we seek to represent. We are constrained by available
data. By using an ordinal ranking, we lose potentially
important differences in the arithmetic distance between
dioceses. The difference between the number one–rated
diocese and the tenth or 20th is probably not too material.
But perhaps the biggest defect is that each of these measures
is relative. We can say which diocese had the greatest
success at, say, converting vocations into ordinations, but
we cannot say whether that result is, objectively, an excellent
outcome. “Best” gets defined here by what was accomplished,
not by what might have been accomplished.
That is the main defect; the main controversy inherent
in a ranking scheme such as this is that it is based on qualitative
data. The criticisms are that these statistics do not
capture the health of a diocese, that there are qualitative
considerations invisible to statistical analysis, and—most
disturbing of all—that growth (more priests, more conversions,
more parishes) should not be used to gauge diocesan
health. There are those who think the Catholic laity needs
to become acclimated to the new realities affecting the
Church (acclimated, for example, to the supposed inevitability
of not seeing a priest every Sunday). For someone of
such an accommodationist inclination, this analysis will be
deemed anachronistic.
Change in Diocesan Rankings
Even more interesting than the overall ranking of dioceses
for 2005 is the change in ranking experienced between 1995
and 2005. Large shifts, either up or down, over that ten-year
period say something profound about the condition of the
diocese. In order to detect such change, we ranked each diocese
for 1995, using the same data, but for the 1985–1995
period. The dioceses with the most dramatic improvements
and deteriorations can be seen on the table on page 18.
What’s Wrong with New England?
Several characteristics of the dioceses strongly correlate
with their ranking. One is the size of the diocese in terms
of the number of adherents. Another is the region in which
the diocese is located.
Among the 27 dioceses in the Northeast—stretching
from Maryland, the cradle of American Catholicism, into
New England—the average rating is 136, three times higher
than the region with the best average rating, the South
(where there are 30 dioceses with an average rating of 49).
The other regions, the Rocky Mountain West/Agricultural
Midwest (43 dioceses, average ranking of 67), the Pacific
Coast (21 dioceses, average ranking of 86), and the Industrial
Midwest (55 dioceses, average ranking of 104) span
the middle.
So the Church is, by this measure, most healthy in that
region that is traditionally the least hospitable to it, and is
least healthy in that region where it has the longest history,
and in which are found both the greatest concentration of
Catholics (as a percent of the population) and the largest
number of Catholics (19,851,345, according to diocesan
reports, versus 16,857,896 in the Industrial Midwest, where
other surveys suggest a plurality of Catholics live).
Perhaps contrary to the expectation of some, the
Northeast is not experiencing a declining Catholic population—
no region is (although in the Industrial Midwest, the
Catholic population is static, with a 1995–2005 aggregate
growth rate of 0.2 percent). Yet New England has the greatest
decline in the number of priests over the recent ten-year
period, the lowest rate of ordination (as a percentage of the
number of priests in the region), and the lowest rate of adult
reception (as a percentage of adherents).
Is there a cultural explanation for this malaise? One
astute observer of Catholic affairs attributes it to a multigenerational
pursuit of social legitimacy by the Church
hierarchy. Seeking admission to the Brahmin clubhouse
has led, in part, to a muting of the Catholic identity, according
to this view—“It’s the Kennedy family phenomenon
writ large.”
This may indeed be a factor, but the Church in New
England may also be a victim of its historical success, measured
by the penetration of the population of that region.
The Church in New England has not had the same impetus
to evangelization, since as it looks around, more or less
everyone it sees is already Catholic. Of course, today every
Church operates in a predominately secular environment,
so that evangelization ought everywhere to be an urgent
priority, but some churches are slower than others to recognize
this development. Globally, Pope John Paul II was
really the first pope to understand his role in evangelizing
a secular world.
It is unmistakable that many of the most vibrant dioceses
in the country are confronting adversity. This fact has
emerged from conversations with dioceses in the South, the
Southwest, and the Pacific Coast. This is most especially
true in the South, where the Catholic Church has never
been the largest denomination. “We are outnumbered, we
are young, we are building churches, we are growing, there
is an enthusiasm for evangelization among the laity,” reported
a priest in the number one–ranked Diocese of Knoxville.
Catholic dioceses seem to be most successful when they are
self-consciously the pilgrim Church on earth.
Of course, it matters how one responds to adversity.
There are less-than-healthy dioceses in the South. There is
nothing automatic about the success of dioceses there. And
it is not merely the fact of growth that creates vitality; the
fastest-growing diocese in the country over the past tenyear
period, Dallas, also fell 111 places during the same tenyear
period, and is now ranked 131 out of 176. In order to
be successful in a situation of adversity, the bishop and the
diocese have to be willing to wrestle with that adversity.
Size Impedes Success
The size of the diocese, measured by the number of adherents
in 2006, is also significantly—and negatively—related
to vibrancy. Fifty-one of the dioceses (29 percent) have
100,000 adherents or fewer. These dioceses have an average
ranking of 62 (again, on a scale of 1 to 176). Thirty-seven
dioceses have more than 500,000 adherents; the average
ranking of these dioceses is 115—a ranking twice as high as
the average of the smallest dioceses. In other words, there
is a clear inverse linear relationship between the size of the
diocese and the health of the diocese: As size increases, vitality
deteriorates.
This is an old story. Among institutions, bigger is generally
not better. The larger the student body in a high school,
to take one example, the greater the extent of problems such
as drug use, student-on-student violence, and poor academic
performance. The quality of institutional performance is often
a function of the will of the top administrator to achieve
success, and the assertion of that will becomes ever more
difficult as the institution expands. In general, the division
of large dioceses into smaller ones is beneficial.
But Does the Bishop Matter?
The final question, however, is how much influence a
bishop has on diocesan ranking. The clear answer: a great
deal. After having systematically examined a number of
external factors that might account for the vitality of a
diocese, the bottom line remains that variations in the
ranking of the dioceses cannot be definitively accounted
for by region, size, or population change. Neighboring
dioceses can and do have substantially different ratings.
And most compelling, the ranking of the dioceses
do change—sometimes dramatically—from one decade
to the next. Absent other explanations, the number-one
factor that accounts for this variation is the quality of the
diocesan leadership.
Michael Kelly, a quintessentially Catholic journalistic
voice silenced in Iraq, once argued, “Leo Tolstoy wrote in
Anna Karenina one of the great founding untruths of the intellectual
age: ‘Happy families are all alike; every unhappy
family is unhappy in its own way.’ This is exactly, entirely
wrong.” We could have the same debate about dioceses.
In terms of how successful bishops go about the tasks of
nurturing priestly morale and spirituality, of attracting vocations,
and of evangelizing the community, each successful
diocese is different, responding to the particularities of
its environment aggressively and confidently. The bishops’
conference could serve a very useful role by chronicling and
promulgating the best practices devised by the dioceses to
meet these and other challenges faced by the Church in
America—for truly there is no challenge that is not being
met somewhere.
On the other hand, perhaps Tolstoy was correct: There
are striking commonalities among the most successful stewards
of the American dioceses. In seeking to understand
why successful dioceses succeed, we spoke with diocesan
officials in a sample of top-rated dioceses. This is the picture
that emerges from those conversations.
The most striking similarity is that successful bishops
attribute their success to the Holy Spirit. The motto of
the number one–ranked diocese in the country—Knoxville,
Tennessee—is “Hope in the Lord.” This motto captures
the prevailing attitude among bishops of the most
vibrant dioceses.
Successful bishops are joyful. They evince an enthusiasm
for the Faith and for the Church. They are unabashedly
confident in what the Faith offers and teaches; they are not
apologetic for being Catholic.
Successful bishops assume personal responsibility for
the outcomes that are their priorities. They are personally
involved in leading men to discern a vocation. (Significant
for the future of women religious, the bishop is not institutionally
responsible for promoting female vocations.)
They are personally involved in promoting the morale of
their priests. And they are investing themselves in programs
of evangelization.
In critiquing a diocese, priests often cited the willingness
(or unwillingness) of the bishop and his curia to be
open to reassessing the success or failure of pastoral initiatives.
This is especially true of vocations. Most priests
can cite the influence of one or several priests who initiated
a process within them to begin considering a call to
the priesthood. In contrast, there are men who declare that
they never considered the priesthood because they were
never invited to consider it.
Finally, successful bishops are unwilling to acquiesce
to decline. They are intent on doing their part to help the
Church flourish.
This is not to say that bishops in non-vibrant dioceses
do not have these qualities. We certainly do not suggest
that any bishop lacks confidence in the Holy Spirit. And
there are dioceses of which lay observers say the bishop
is doing all the right things, but in which the results are
nonetheless disappointing. There are poorly rated dioceses
in which lay members contend that the faith community is
doing quite well, while the data tell another story.
It may strike one as superficial, but diocesan-sponsored
Web sites provide significant insight into the personality
of the dioceses. Good signs: easy access to substantive
information for persons considering becoming
Catholic, returning to the Faith, or considering a vocation.
Bad signs: prominently featuring on the home page
references to clergy abuse or helpful guides to making an
on-line donation.
The Abuse Scandal
Any assessment of the health of the dioceses must
take into consideration the extent of sexual predation
by clergy. Unfortunately, such data are not
available. The John Jay College of Criminal Justice
(City University of New York) was commissioned
by the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB)
to conduct a canvass of dioceses regarding the
prevalence of abuse. The college’s publicly available
report shows the total number of clergy credibly accused
of abuse and the number of victims, but not
broken down by diocese. The USCCB, of course,
has this information but has chosen not to release
it, in accordance with the confidentiality promises
made to the bishops when the John Jay canvass was
conducted. We asked the bishops’ conference if they
could tell us if any diocese in the country reported
no instances of abuse. Tantalizingly, they responded
that at least one diocese had no allegations of abuse
by clergy.
SNAP (the Survivors Network of those Abused
by Priests) collects allegations of abuse and catalogs
judicial proceedings against clergy, but does not summarize
these actions by diocese. Its view is that instances
of abuse rising to the level of public visibility
have more to do with the civil legal environment than
with the prevalence of abuse. Places such as Los Angeles—
which is said to have a particularly stern civiljustice
system—only appear to have more allegations
of abuse because victims are encouraged to come forward,
whereas elsewhere victims are discouraged, and
therefore remain silent. It is the opinion of SNAP that
the percentage of clergy engaging in acts of sexual
predation is generally uniform across the country, affecting
all dioceses equally. —R. H. and S. W.
Best in Class
Dioceses at the top of the ranking consistently make
use of their diocesan Web sites to focus on vocations. The
Archdiocese of Santa Fe, for example, features letters from
the archbishop and the vocations director to those who
are interested in the priesthood, materials to answer initial
questions, an in-depth introduction to the archdiocese and
its history, and profiles of seminarians in the archdiocese
that introduce the range of young men who studied for
Santa Fe. The archdiocese provides detailed information
about how to pursue one’s interest in studying for the priesthood
and introduces the seminaries to where its priests are
trained—and even provides a selection of prayers for those
making an initial discernment.
Conversely, dioceses that ranked at the bottom are
making less use of this particular means of outreach. The
Diocese of Honolulu, for example, does not make vocation
information on the Web site available to the unregistered
public, and the Diocese of Houma–Thibodaux has no vocation
site at all.
The Diocese of San Jose, California, and others in the
top ranking give particular prominence to the sanctity of
marriage and family-life issues, among many other topics
related to the Church’s teachings on doctrinal matters. The
Internet is one of the means at the disposal of a diocese
to communicate to the faithful. If St. Paul had had access
to 21st-century technology, one can only imagine how it
would have spurred his evangelization.
At times, however, the message conveyed on diocesan
Web sites can be less positive. The words that are
framed and centered on the home page of the Diocese of
Pittsburgh read, “To renew what is broken,” followed by
a toll-free number to report sexual abuse; while the words
across the top of the Web site of the Diocese of Dallas
are invitations to report sexual abuse, to contribute
online to the Catholic Community Appeal, or to make
a donation of $50 to the cathedral renovation fund. Perhaps
the issue is whether a diocese thinks of the Internet
as an intranet for the faithful or a window on the Faith for
a vast secular audience.
Moving Forward
That there should be such significant variation in the vitality
of the American Church from diocese to diocese sends
us, the Church—leaders and laity alike—several rather profound
messages. The first is that the health of the Church
in America is ours to affect. While a thorough confidence
in the Holy Spirit is a sine qua non, as unusually successful
bishops so evidently recognize, there is also a role for
human will in achieving God’s plan for the Church. The
Church has been slow to come to terms with changes in the
societal environment of the United States in which it functions,
most especially the emergence of a dominant culture
that is thoroughly secular. Many—too many—in positions
of authority have perceived their jobs as simply to manage
the decline, having become dispirited over the adversity
that this new cultural environment poses. But the Church
is slowly, incrementally, coming to perceive the current reality
with greater clarity. And the Church is decidedly, as
one bishop put it, “moving beyond the post-conciliar silliness,”
that dreadful period of confusion following Vatican II
when all manner of “innovation” was attempted to make the
Church “relevant.”
The best evidence for this optimistic appraisal is the
existence of flourishing dioceses led by energetic, enthusiastic,
and holy shepherds. The tough question now confronting
the American episcopate and the Vatican curia is
whether the Church is willing to recognize the characteristics
common to successful bishops of the United States, and
to systematically elevate priests with an appropriate profile.
The history has been uneven: The fact that some dioceses
are robust reveals, by comparison, that many are not. But all
persons who wish the Church in America well can rejoice
in the fact that we are blessed to have extraordinary and
effective (if unsung) leaders in numerous places across the
country. Truly, there is no challenge the Church faces that
cannot be confronted.
Growth in Dioceses
Growth has little correlation with diocesan vitality.
One might well think that a diocese with a growing
Catholic population is de facto a more exciting, vibrant
faith community. But the data do not support such
common sense. Some of the fastest-growing dioceses
are among the least vibrant, and vice versa. And this
makes sense upon reflection: Growth in the Catholic
population has little to do with the quality of the diocese;
rather, dioceses are captive to larger population
dynamics, to which they respond more or less well.
Regionally, the dioceses of the Pacific Coast region
are the fastest growing, with an average ten-year
growth rate of 29 percent. But the dioceses of the Pacific
Coast have an average rating of 86, third best of
five regions. The slowest-growing region for Catholics
is the Industrial Midwest, which is the second worst in
average ratings. —R. H. and S. W.
Ten Smallest Dioceses
Rank Diocese 2005 Adherents
1 Juneau (AK) 5,473
2 Fairbanks (AK) 18,000
3 Rapid City (SD) 25,729
4 Anchorage (AK) * 32,170
5 Baker (OR) 35,647
6 Crookston (MN) 35,780
7 Steubenville (OH) 40,001
8 Shreveport (LA) 40,155
9 Amarillo (TX) 40,293
10 Dodge City (KS) 43,682
Ten Largest Dioceses
167 Detroit (MI) 1,286,985
168 Newark (NJ) 1,319,558
169 Rockville Centre (NY) 1,431,774
170 Philadelphia (PA) * 1,462,388
171 Galveston–Houston (TX) 1,495,030
172 Brooklyn (NY) 1,556,575
173 Chicago (IL) * 2,348,000
174 New York (NY) * 2,542,432
175 Boston (MA) * 3,974,846
176 Los Angeles (CA) * 4,448,763
Ten Best Dioceses
Rank Diocese Adherents per Priest
1 Steubenville (OH) 741
2 Lincoln (NE) 783
3 Fargo (ND) 953
4 Rapid City (SD) 953
5 Mobile (AL) * 963
6 Sioux City (IA) 973
7 Owensboro (KY) 1,027
8 Tyler (TX) 1,077
9 Juneau (AK) 1,095
10 Wheeling–Charleston (WV) 1,103
Ten Fastest-Growing Dioceses, 1995–2005
Rank Diocese % Change in Adherents
1 Dallas (TX) 199%
2 Salt Lake City (UT) 155%
3 Fort Worth (TX) 140%
4 Boston (MA) * 98%
5 Colorado Springs (CO) 96%
6 Lubbock (TX) 94%
7 Orange (CA) 90%
8 Galveston–Houston (TX) 89%
9 San Bernardino (CA) 88%
10 Austin (TX) 85%
Ten Worst Dioceses
Rank Diocese Adherents per Priest
167 Boston (MA) * 8,912
168 Fort Worth (TX) 10,000
169 Galveston–Houston (TX) 10,170
170 Orange (CA) 10,776
171 Los Angeles (CA) * 12,675
172 El Paso (TX) 13,388
173 San Bernardino (CA) 13,987
174 Dallas (TX) 14,049
175 Brownsville (TX) 15,993
176 Las Vegas (NV) 19,998
Ten Slowest-Growing Dioceses, 1995–2005
Rank Diocese % Change in Adherents
167 Duluth (MN) -16%
168 Salina (KS) -16%
169 Greensburg (PA) -18%
170 Burlington (VT) -20%
171 Portland (ME) -21%
172 Wheeling–Charleston (WV) -22%
173 Springfield (MA) -26%
174 Peoria (IL) -26%
175 Rapid City (SD) -35%
176 Honolulu (HI) -38%
Tyler, Texas
Imagine that you find yourself appointed bishop in
rural east Texas—a diocese of 22,971 square miles,
a territory nearly equivalent to the entire state of West
Virginia. It is an area with some 56,000 Catholics—4.3
percent of the total population. The first incumbent
died in office, and the diocese is now on its third bishop
after just 20 years in existence. Moreover, apart from
the see city of Tyler, with a population just in excess of
83,000, the diocese is composed of small communities
that provide minimal statistical hope for recruiting vocations
to the diocesan priesthood. As bishop, you are
also confronting religious orders—once the backbone
of regions with few Catholics like east Texas—with
fewer and fewer missionary priests to deploy.
That the Diocese of Tyler finds itself with a 128 percent
increase in diocesan priests in the ten-year span of
our study is attributable to the work of Bishop Edmond
Carmody and Bishop Alvaro Corrada del Rio, S.J.
Bishop Carmody, himself a missionary from Ireland
who came to the United States to supplement the work
of the American clergy, had no qualms about searching
the whole of the Lord’s vineyard for laborers; the Diocese
of Tyler has imported priests from Eastern Europe,
India, and Latin America. The bishops have made the
building up of their presbyterate a priority to the wellbeing
of their diocese.
Across the country, dioceses are finding that importing
priests is effective in easing the shortfalls they
are confronting. The positives are many: Dioceses are
spared the years of study and waiting involved in seminary
preparation—the priests arrive with their studies
accomplished and their ordination behind them—and
the concern about whether the seminarian will persevere
to ordination is a moot point. Some priests are
quite young, while others arrive with a wealth of pastoral
experience from their own lands. These priests are
expressions of the Church Universal, and the parishes
in which they serve benefit from the unique perspectives
that come from their cultures and backgrounds.
Many parishioners are grateful, knowing that without
them their parish might have no priest at all.
Certainly, the opportunity to work in a U.S. diocese
fulfills a desire to be a missionary and to make a tremendous
difference in a particular church that would be
poorer sacramentally without them. Living in America
also provides many of these priests with a standard of
living they could not otherwise attain. One priest from
India, working as a hospital chaplain in a diocese in the
South, was able to provide significant support for his
parents and siblings back home in India—something he
would not have been able to do had he remained in his
own diocese in Kerala.
But the coin has two sides. Priests from other lands
can find it difficult to adjust to the culture, and the languages
(both English and Spanish) and expectations
of parishioners are often far removed from what the
priests previously experienced. The language barrier
is real. There is also real concern on the part of parishioners
about the extern priests’ lack of understanding
regarding the roles of women in American society.
The very active role that the American laity takes in
the liturgy and in parish life is also often very different
from what these priests may have experienced in
their homeland. The myriad parish activities and social
ministries can be challenging. Parishes with confrontations
and misunderstandings can cause much
pain to priests and parishioners alike. Still, priests and
parishes that are willing to grow together and accept
that there will be moments of adjustment can find the
experience mutually enriching.
The phenomenon has raised concerns on the part
of the Holy See’s Congregation for the Evangelization
of Peoples. In a June 2001 document titled Instruction on
the Sending Abroad and Sojourn of Diocesan Priests from Mission
Territories, the Holy See expressed some trepidation
about the fact that, in some dioceses of Africa, one-third
to one-half of the secular priests live abroad—enough,
the document warns, to create entire dioceses with native
clergy in these mission lands that are still getting
on their feet.
The trend exemplified in Tyler is not likely to go
away in the near term, however. In our country’s earliest
years, it was Jesuit missionaries from France who planted
the seeds of faith across North America and became
our region’s first saints, the North American martyrs. It
has been the legacy of the United States to welcome
missionaries, to send forth missionaries—and now, to
welcome them again. —R. H. and S. W.