I think our new young parish priest in Paola has a retro-meets-vintage kind of style.
I do not know him, but I see him out and about: at the football ground when Hibs were in the final games of the league; in the pjazza chatting with people; holding ladders while church decorations are being put up. And he does all this, kitted in his black cassock – whatever the temperature.
He looks like he’s just stepped out from the film set of Don Camillo.
I was raised on a television diet of Don Camillo, the television series based on the stories by Giovanni Guareschi that used to be aired every Friday evening on Rai Uno. They are tales of an amusing sort, in which the decent country priest Don Camillo confronts and defeats the communist mayor Peppone, who is himself a decent chap anyway, when push comes to shove.
I don’t suppose anyone watches them any more, but they were very clever Catholic propaganda showing the goodness of ordinary simple Catholic villagers; the generous wisdom of Don Camillo’s Christ; and last but not the least, the craftiness and untrustworthiness of the communists. To put things in context, they were aired in the early 1980s, bang in the middle of the Cold War with communist Russia, and conveniently Don Camillo was always the hero, and his church was cool.
I was thinking of last week, as I dined in the square of Żebbuġ – the annual fundraising nosh event carried out by the resilient minority of Ġużeppini in Żebbuġ (Note to fellow columnist I.M Beck: you should try this when you feel like giving your restaurants a break).
I was sitting at a table next to the parish priest and I wanted to ask him whether Don Camillo had in some way inspired him to priesthood, but I did not, mostly because he looked so young that I was sure his childhood television was based on MTV, and definitely not Rai Uno.
However, he still had to bear with my quizzing on the role of kappillani today and he kindly gave me a very thorough account. I think parish priests are underrated. They are the ones who really know what’s going on in Maltese society, not those media-savvy priests who are on TV and in newspapers all the time sounding their opinions, and making my eyes roll on a loop.
Parish priests need to contribute more to national life – they ought to take up village issues and highlight them to the media
The kappillan is no longer woken up in the middle of the night, because people mostly die in hospital. He no longer stays in one village for life. He no longer has a bevy of priests to help him out.
And yet, he is still a reference point for many in villages. When someone is seriously ill, the kappillan is still the first one to know and asked to help – and he is available for the whole community, not just for those who attend church regularly
The parish priests on the ground are managers, equivalent to mayors, except that they are privy to people’s personal trials and tribulations too. They are like the CEOs of the village soul.
But I think that in a couple of generations all this will be lost. Firstly because the Catholic Church has its own problems, we know all about them, so no need for me to list them here.
Secondly, because people’s time and concentration span is more limited, and the Church is becoming the realm of those aged 60 plus.
This is a pity, if for nothing, for aesthetic reasons. Some Maltese churches are magical. Standing under the high vaulted roof of a 600-year-old nave can be uplifting, at a time when wherever we look, there are blocks of ugly concrete architecture. Beautiful churches are instead full of history and often full of family connections and memories (“This is were I was baptised/was a sheep in the nativity play” and so forth).
Moreover, churches can provide an intimate shelter from the metaphorical wind and rain outside. It is the place where to give thanks, pay respects, mark a significant moment or seek solace.
For decades, the parish church provided a rallying point. Now it is not so strong, even because it lacks the workforce as vocations are decreasing rapidly. And it is not replaced by an equally strong community network, which worries me that we’ll soon be a step closer to a lonelier society.
My idea is that parish priests need to contribute more to national life – they ought to take up village issues and highlight them to the media, pushing the bunch of media-pop-priests out of the way.
Perhaps we can have Malta’s own Priest Idol, like the UK’s Channel 4. Parish priests were given a year to turn around the dwindling congregation of a rural church for a television reality show. They had a small panel of advisers and some financial support from the broadcaster to spend on anything to appeal to parishioners. The parish priests had to make do with cameras following them, and the programme brought the church closer to the people.
So this is an ode to the kappillani of Malta – whose work is unappreciated – who have a Don Camillo attitude to life, and help us believe that everything will be alright in the end.
krischetcuti@gmail.com
Twitter: @KrisChetcuti