Every now and then, something in daily life makes me pause and reflect on how quickly our world is changing. Work schedules, family routines, parish life, and even the way we gather as communities shift quietly over time. Most of us do not notice these changes until something drastic brings them into focus. When it does, I find myself thinking about how these changes affect our shared life as a Church, how they shape our habits, our expectations, and the ways we relate to one another across generations.
Recently, I heard about a parish festival that has always been a joyful tradition. Historically, everyone gathered inside for a shared meal. This year, something that had slowly been shifting stood out even more. Young families gravitated outdoors to the bouncy houses, grabbing hotdogs and letting their kids run around. Older parishioners stayed inside, enjoying the familiar meal and the comfort of the gathering space. This year, more hotdogs were sold outside than meals inside.
No one was trying to be separate. It just… happened. A happy parish -- gently? accidentally? -- divided.
And beneath this simple scene, two very different realities exist:
Older generations who feel a deep desire to leave a legacy, to pass on what has sustained them.
Younger generations doing their best to get through each day, raising children, juggling work, and trying to make ends meet.
Both groups love their parish. Both groups want it to thrive. But they are walking two different paths.
I wish we saw more those paths cross with intention more often.
I wish we didn't have to stress about massive coordination of a "children's Masses" once a quarter in order to have children involved in ministry. Instead, I wish we saw the senior who has been a Eucharistic Minister since they were twenty ask a newly confirmed young adult, “Would you like to learn how to do this? Let me tell you how it has grown my faith” Or a 40-year-old lector invite a middle school youth to do the second reading at Mass with them: "I'll tell you when it's time to go up."
I wish we saw parents encouraging their young children to greet the seniors in the next pew after Mass and ask them about their day. I wish coffee and donuts didn't mean sitting next to the same family every time but meant reaching out to make others feel welcome.
I wish we saw the long‑time committee chair of the annual festival invite a thirty‑something parishioner to co‑lead next year’s event. And not just having them follow along, but really explaining and sharing wisdom of the years in leadership and empowering new leadership to bring new ideas and make their own decisions.
The bottom line: I wish we saw more people stepping into each other’s shoes, even briefly, to understand the pressures, hopes, and gifts the other carries.
Hear me out when I say my challenge primarily extends to the better (more experienced) half of us. Not because you are solely responsible for bridging the gap, but because you remember what it felt like to be embarrassed about your loud toddler or running in 12 minutes late to Faith Formation night because dinner didn't go smoothly. You remember being intimidated by altar serving because you couldn't remember when to ring the bells.
Here's a perfect example our Board member, Mark Greenwood of Mankato, MN, shared with me this week, "I always think about our priests that serve our parishes. I think sometimes we think it's their job to build our parish community, but as practicing Catholics it's our duty to help them build out the parish community."
He went on to explain two wonderful examples in his family of how we can help pass the torch to the next generation,
"Our oldest granddaughter is a senior. She helps she helps teach catechism with my daughter. And she has a much more impact on the kids that she's teaching than my daughter ever does. My daughter says, "I just stay quiet and just let her go!" "
What a powerful way to pass on a ministry!
Mark continued, "I've been a member of St. Joseph the Worker for over 40 years. And I've Lectored at St. Joe's forever, but I stopped Lectoring for Sunday Mass and both of my granddaughters now Lector instead of me. I lector at Daily Mass, I'll pitch in if they need me. But both of them started because I asked them. I told them both, instead of me lectoring anymore, I want you girls to. They've said sure and done a great job."
"It is very hard for older people like myself to give up what they've done for so many years. But I'm very willing to step aside and let young people lead. I'm not trying to toot my own horn, but that's what we need. We need the older people to kind of step aside and let others do some of that work. You have to be willing to do that. You've got to make that change. The sooner we do that, the better off we're going to be: you're going to have more of a flourishing parish."
Getting a torch handed to you out of necessity when someone passes away is overwhelming. But when someone with experience is willing to pass the torch, support you, teach you and cheer you on TODAY, that transition is not just smoother, it's more meaningful. It's inspiring to our young people and makes them feel deeply welcome as an important part of the Body of Christ.
If you are part of an older generation, consider offering one invitation this month. A ministry. A committee. A tradition. A simple, “Come with me.” or "Let me show you."
If you are part of a younger generation, consider saying yes once. Even if your schedule is full. Even if you feel unsure. Your presence matters and is appreciated more than you know.
Our parishes become stronger when we choose connection over comfort, curiosity over assumptions, and shared mission over unnoticed separation.
Saint Paul reminds us, “For as in one body we have many parts… so we, though many, are one body in Christ” (Romans 12:4–5). That truth is as relevant today as it was in the early Church. We belong to Christ, and because of that, we belong to one another. Older and younger, long‑time parishioners and newly confirmed teens, busy parents and faithful empty-nesters; each of us carries gifts the others need.
My hope is that we begin to see these small parish moments not as signs of division, but as gentle invitations. Invitations to cross the parking lot. To extend a hand. To teach. To learn. To ask. To say yes. To remember that Christ binds us together, and that service to one another is part of our shared vocation.
We need each other. And when we choose to walk in each other’s shoes, even briefly, the parish becomes more fully the Body of Christ: living, growing, and united in love.
Why this topic? Mental health, social isolation and pastoral care as well as evangelization were surfaced by interviewees as priorities in our 2025 diocesan listening exercise across Southern Minnesota. The Catholic Foundation Board has selected this as one of our strategic priorities. Visit our FY27-FY30 strategic plan page to learn more.