BOOKS DISCUSSED IN THIS ESSAY
Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 107 pp., $1.25 (paper)
Doubleday, 283 pp., $6.95
Saturday Review Press, 228 pp., $6.95
Simon and Schuster, 350 pp., $8.95
Delta, 272 pp., $2.95 (paper)
Macmillan, 416 pp., $1.95 (paper)
Doubleday, 304 pp., $1.75 (paper)
Saturday Review Press, 322 pp., $7.95
Doubleday, 312 pp., $6.95
The decline of the American Catholic Church in the late Sixties has become a statistician's plaything, as the empty pew is weighted against the growth of Real Concern. Thus: the sprawling seminaries of the Fifties may be ghost towns—but we are all priests now. Likewise, the swollen churches can't meet their mortgages—but then, our life is our prayer. That kind of argument. The decline of a state of mind is hard to chart and I leave it to the professionals (anything so unanswerable must have money in it). But for those of us who lived through it, the physical fact itself, and the loss of institutional confidence that went with it, formed a psychic event so unmistakably spectacular that we felt as if our tripes had been removed by sleight-of-hand. The Church was still standing solid as the post office in, say, 1966; the Vatican Council had been weathered—better than weathered. In fact, the first death spasm looked like a little dance step. (The first half hour of freedom is always the best: we would be better Catholics without coercion.) And then it was gone.
Review, 5951 words
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