The recently concluded Month of Mary and the newly begun Month of the Sacred Heart are times when churches across Croatia fill with crowds of the faithful. These months mark the peak season for the celebration of sacraments OF First Communion, Confirmation, and Matrimony. However, they are also proverbially known as the time when many “traditional” Catholics bid farewell to their parish church—until the next sacramental occasion. Contemporary statistics show that this is more than just an anecdotal phenomenon. Yet, the causes and possible solutions are rarely addressed in Catholic public discourse in Croatia. It is therefore refreshing when someone approaches this issue not only from the angle of pastoral activism, but also with academic rigor.
Both perspectives—pastoral and scholarly—are united in the recently published book by American Catholic theologian and sociologist Dr. Maureen K. Day, titled Cultural Catholics: Who They Are, How to Respond, published by Liturgical Press. In our conversation with the award-winning author and researcher, we discussed not only the phenomenon of cultural Catholicism, but also the challenges of Catholic social engagement and the potential for reimagining the current model of parish pastoral care.
In his first homily as pope, Leo XIV noted that many Christians, pressured by modern society, end up living in a state of practical atheism. Would it be correct to identify such individuals as cultural Catholics? How would you best describe this group?
In some ways, practical atheism is a broader phenomenon than cultural Catholicism; in other ways, it is distinct from it. People I call cultural Catholics are those who readily identify as Catholic but attend Mass less than once a month. That fact alone might place them in the category of practical atheists; yet many who attend Mass weekly may also live in a state of practical atheism—understanding Catholicism more as a reliable rulebook than as a transformative way of life.
It is exactly this sense of newness that engulfed those who encountered Christ in the Scriptures—and precisely what was missing in the experience of the Pharisees. The challenge Pope Leo offers is not to approach the faith purely intellectually, but to let the Good News of Christ touch our hearts and manifest in how we view ourselves and treat others. Complacency is one of the most dangerous pitfalls that can quietly creep into the life of a Christian. I’m excited that the Pope is inaugurating this way of the heart—because it is truly the morally maximalist path.
Catholicism is a matter of the heart, but also a matter of numbers. Your research confirmed there are more men than women among cultural Catholics, which aligns with the female predominance in church pews. If you were to create a demographic and political profile of cultural Catholics, what would it look like?
In the United States, two primary groups make up the largest share of Catholics: people of Hispanic descent and people of European descent. Cultural Catholics are more likely to belong to the latter group. Politically, cultural Catholics tend not to lean strongly toward either Democrats or Republicans; they are more likely to identify as independents. That makes sense—those who are skeptical of organized religion often also distrust political institutions.
What kind of Catholic culture can we ascribe to such people?
Although their level of belief is lower than that of regular attenders of Mass, it remains relatively strong. Cultural Catholics consider it important to believe in transubstantiation, to show devotion to Mary, and to care for the poor. On the other hand, they’re less engaged when it comes to donating to relief services or volunteering in their local communities.
This suggests that cultural Catholics lack the formation necessary to fully understand their beliefs and how to act on them. Take the Trinity, for example—a core tenet of Christian faith. A person who regularly attends church may understand that being created in the image of a triune, loving, and relational God means we are most human when in loving relationships with others. But someone who only knows that God is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit may struggle to integrate that truth into their identity.
This is where cultural Catholics are at a disadvantage: they hold Catholic beliefs but often they are underdeveloped or they don’t know how those beliefs should intersect with other areas of life. And this is where my intellectual curiosity grew into a kind of sympathy for them.
In what sense?
At first, I simply wanted to find out who these people were and how the Church could connect with them better. After assessing the data, it became clear to me that they need help. Not being part of their parishes leaves them excluded from the basic mechanisms of helping others—mechanisms that bring joy and allow their personhood to flourish.
But what caused this exclusion? According to your data, more than half of identifying Catholics in the U.S. are cultural Catholics; in Croatia, only 27 percent of Catholics attend Sunday Mass… What led us from dominantly Christian cultures to a dominant cultural Catholicism?
We know that actual Mass attendance is always lower than what people report in surveys. While it has declined over time, increased secularism has also reduced the shame associated with not attending Mass. In other words, part of the decline is simply due to people being more honest now than they were in the past.
But that’s just part of the story. As Stephen Bullivant noted in Mass Exodus, Catholic disaffiliation in the U.S. began as early as the 1940s. After World War II, with the rise of free college education for veterans, Catholics began moving out of the urban ethnic enclaves where they had once gathered. This broke the relational bonds that formed what Bullivant calls the “plausibility structure”—the social network that made Catholicism seem reasonable and livable.
What can be learnt from the American experience with cultural Catholicism?
Did this phenomenon affect the Church as well?
After the Second Vatican Council, the Church largely stopped emphasizing practices that reinforced Catholic identity. What were once faith practices became purely cultural ones—like making Irish soda bread on St. Patrick’s Day.
My research for Catholicism at a Crossroads showed that the more relational ties a person has with Catholicism, the stronger their faith tends to be. If both parents are Catholic, the children are more likely to remain Catholic as adults. If both spouses are Catholic, they are more likely to attend Mass weekly. Youth groups that focus on friendship and relationships tend to produce more committed adult Catholics than those focused solely on doctrine. Therefore, the erosion of these Catholic cultural bonds and social networks is at the heart of cultural Catholicism.
Your main criterion for identifying cultural Catholics is low Mass attendance. Yet almost half of them believe that a “good Catholic” must accept transubstantiation—though only 62 percent believe sacraments are essential to their relationship with God…
Cultural Catholicism is multifaceted and deeply personal. I believe most cultural Catholics don’t feel like “great” Catholics themselves. They may believe certain dogmas, but not strongly enough to feel compelled to attend Mass. Some are held back by guilt; others drifted away during busy or difficult periods in their lives.
For many, COVID was a turning point. We saw some parishes grow demographically and financially after the pandemic, as it gave cultural Catholics a reason to re-engage with the Church. But for others, it was the moment they realized they didn’t really need Mass anymore.
COVID created division across the Church globally. Is there division among cultural Catholics as well?
In the U.S., Catholics are politically divided between Democrats and Republicans, unlike many Protestant denominations that largely align with a single party. This is because the Catholic Church agrees with different parties on different issues—such as the Republican Party on abortion and the Democratic Party on immigration.
However, cultural Catholics tend to be quite united on core doctrinal issues. The resurrection of Jesus is very important to them, while celibate priesthood ranks lowest in importance. Interestingly, this aligns with regularly attending Catholics. Cultural Catholics also value faith-based practices outside the parish, like daily prayer, although they engage in them less often than those who attend Mass frequently.
In your book, you assert that many cultural Catholics distance themselves from parishes due to disappointment with how the Church addresses social change.
It’s true that a lot of lay Catholic apostolates in the U.S. focus on individual transformation rather than community transformation—very different from the early 20th century, when Catholic social work was largely carried out through parishes and diocesan structures. This shift not only increases reliance on government programs for things like child hunger, but it also weakens the thrust of Catholic social activism. And when Catholic organizations offer assistance, they often bring beneficiaries something government agencies do not: care and a sense that they are loved.
Still, much of the disappointment stems from secular media coverage, which tends to focus solely on controversial issues like abortion. Cultural Catholics often get their news from these outlets, which makes it easy to believe the Church is politically aligned with the Republican Party. Sometimes, the Church itself starts to believe that.
What do you mean?
I’ve encouraged many priests to publicly promote charitable giving—especially since Catholic giving in the U.S. is currently half the rate of Protestant giving—or to speak out against unjust wars. But even these endorsements are sometimes viewed as pushing a liberal agenda.
That said, not all Catholics see it this way. In Catholicism at a Crossroads, we categorized Catholics by commitment level. High-commitment Catholics are those who attend Mass weekly, say the Church is the most important or among the most important parts of their lives, and that they would never or almost never consider leaving it. About 20 percent of U.S. Catholics fall into this group, and they are more likely to align their political views with Church teaching than with any one party. The Church must resist political identification and always point to a third way.
What does that third way look like?
Take abortion, for instance. The public debate usually pits women’s rights against the rights of the unborn. But the U.S. bishops have offered a way to transcend this binary through programs like Walking with Moms in Need, which provides babysitting, clothing, food and relational support for mothers. Words defending unborn life are easy to dismiss—but action is much harder to ignore.
Beauty transforms people, and it’s the most beautiful responses to human suffering that initiate transformation. The Church doesn’t need to have an answer to every question of suffering. On Easter morning, the women walked to the tomb with nothing but questions: “Who will roll away the stone?” Yet, even in the face of this challenge and in their grief, they were faithful.
Throughout your research, you’ve emphasized that living the Catholic faith is inextricably linked to the parish. This is easy to understand for regular attendees—but how can it also be true for someone who visits only once a year?
People who engage even occasionally in parish activities often end up drawn more deeply into its liturgical life. That’s why the Church should take advantage of major liturgical moments. For instance, I often advise pastors to begin planning their Christmas liturgies in August—not just for Christmas Eve, but for the entire twelve days following. Children are on vacation during that time. Offering them activities can bring their parents to church, even if reluctantly. Unfortunately, Christmas Eve Mass often tries to cram a year’s worth of catechesis into one homily.
The same opportunity exists with couples seeking marriage in the Church, even if they don’t regularly attend. If the parish offers them a personal invitation to a young adult group as part of their marriage preparation instead of a bureaucratic experience, it might be the moment they truly encounter Christ for the first time. These moments are a treasure the Church must not squander.
You emphasize reversing the current model of pastoral ministry: putting belonging first, so that it can lead to believing and behaving. Yet some argue cultural Catholicism is the result of deprioritizing faith and moral formation.
There is reason to be cautious. Some claim to practice a “culture of encounter,” when in reality they’re simply lowering the expectations of ministry. But Jesus always raised the capacity of those he encountered. A ministry of encounter doesn’t lower standards—it raises people’s ability to meet them.
Jesus preached and confronted sin, but his first words to sinners were often invitations: “Come and see,” or “I’m having dinner at your house tonight.” He showed us that faith cannot take root without relationships. Belonging doesn’t guarantee belief and behavior—but we cannot achieve belief and behavior without belonging.
What are the factors hindering the apostolic effectiveness of parishes?
In the U.S., the priest shortage has forced many priests to cover multiple parishes, reducing them to sacramental functionaries. With declining lay participation and giving, many parishes do not have the resources to pay parish staff.
In these circumstances, a gift-based assessment can be a great starting point. A priest can gather a group of 8–12 parishioners who want to deepen their faith, study Scripture, and lead parish life. After 30 weekly meetings, this group can become a leadership team ready to mobilize the parish from within.
You’ve outlined many pastoral takeaways from your research. If we were to consolidate the most important into an action plan, what would it look like? Are there successful examples already in practice?
Some parishes run Each One Reach One programs, where each parishioner invites someone from their life to a church activity. The first step might be a parish listening session: Who are these people? What might attract them to church? What parish resources are available?
The first step for them might not be Mass—it might be Bible study, music ministry, or a crisis pregnancy shelter. What matters is offering a diversity of activities, insisting on a long-term plan, and actively promoting everything. The pastor can announce these initiatives and let parishioners take charge. Even if only a few people return to Sunday Mass, the faith of everyone involved will grow deeper.
