"Rome is pagan," Pope Francis told members of the Roman clergy during a closed-door meeting January 14, when he urged them to consider the city a mission territory.

Asked about the pope's surprising words a few weeks later, the head of the department for catechesis of the Diocese of Rome, the Rev. Andrea Camillini, admitted:

"Rome is at the same time pagan and the city of the pope: It's a paradoxical city."

Fewer Catholics

The number of practicing Catholics in Italy has plummeted after the COVID-19 lockdowns to an all-time low.

The Italian National Institute of Statistics found that only 19 percent of Italians were practicing Catholics in 2022, compared with 36 percent in the previous 10 years.

The number of people who "never practice" their faith has doubled to 31 percent in the historically Catholic country.

Practising paganism

While the church grapples with the causes behind the emptying pews, some who have left their Catholic faith behind are searching for other spiritual outlets.

An eclectic group of Romans who gathered near the ancient Forum on a windy morning on February 10 have turned to Juno, Jupiter and Apollo to find answers.

"I was a practising Christian Catholic for many years. I was a catechist," Luca Fizzarotti (pictured, centre pouring water), who recently started attending the ancient Roman rituals, told Religion News Service.

"Then I had a spiritual crisis when I moved in with my wife. I had a very bad experience and had to leave my church," he said.

A computer programmer, Fizzarotti fell in love with a woman who believes in Kemetic Orthodoxy, based on the ancient Egyptian religious faith.

"In the beginning I could not really understand this, then as I slowly learned about the pagan community, I found a way to live out my spirituality," he said.

Paganism — though sometimes used as a derogatory shorthand for anyone who does not worship the Abrahamic god of Judaism, Islam and Christianity — is an umbrella term.

It encompasses a number of religious traditions, many of them polytheistic.

Ancient Romans worshipped a pantheon of gods, mainly Jupiter, Juno, Apollo and Minerva, through rituals and observations with activities than included animal sacrifice and temple worship.

Fizzarotti was among a dozen people who gathered for the early February ritual, organised by the Communitas Populi Romani.

Neo-paganism - a growing trend

Communitas is a community started in 2013 by a group of young enthusiasts of Roman history, culture and religion.

In the beginning, the group focused on reenactments and history, but it slowly shifted toward becoming an officially recognised religious group.

There are 20 or so members, said Donatella Ertola.

She joined the group in 2015 and now organises meetings three or four times a month in the places that are closest to the original temples spread across Rome.

"We all believe in the gods, we make rituals at home, we have devotion temples at home, we have our priests and officiants," she told RNS, adding that this is a "niche community that has been growing recently."

Communitas is hardly the only Roman religion organisation in Rome or Italy. Groups like Pietas in Rome have larger memberships and even their own temples.

According to a 2017 study by the Center for Studies on New Religions in Turin, the number of neo-pagans in Italy has grown to more than 230,000 people, a 143 percent increase over 10 years.

In the United States there are 1.5 million pagans, according to a 2018 Pew Research Center survey, a significant increase compared with 134,000 in 2001.

The draw of the Roman religion is clear for many modern-day Italians, who view it as a way to reconnect with their ancient roots.

Fascination with ancient Rome has also become a worldwide phenomenon.

A social media trend last year found a staggering and surprising number of people — especially men — think about the ancient Roman Empire at least once a day.

"I was looking for something that monotheism didn't give me," said Antony Meloni, an airport construction worker. "I found in polytheism a new strength," he added.

Recreating pagan rituals

There is no religious text in the Roman religion, meaning faithful today must rely on what was written by people of the time.

Communitas attempts to re-create the ancient rituals, without any human or animal sacrifice, of course, using ancient texts.

The group gathered on February 10 to celebrate Juno Sospita, or Juno the Savior, whose temple once stood a few steps away, where the Church of St. Nickolas in Chains is located today.

The original columns are still visible. She is usually shown as a warrior, lance in hand, and covered with goat skins and historically celebrated in February, considered a month of purification by the Romans, as winter turned to spring.

They follow the description of a ritual offered by Cato the Elder in the "De Agricultura."

It starts off with an offering to the local "genus," or spirit, followed by ablutions with water and incense.

During the central part of the ceremony, the "Favete Linguis," faithful are asked to "hold their tongues" and quiet their minds.

Amid the chaos of Roman traffic and the occasional bark of their mascot — the dog Poldo, who has two different-colored eyes — the group shouted prayers in Latin.

Two nuns, dressed in black, looked over suspiciously. Wearing a white veil, the officiant May Rega, scoffed with annoyance.

Rega was an active member of her church in Naples and sang in the choir, but she also drifted away from Catholicism due to ruptures with the church and its congregants.

As an archaeologist, she loves how specific and detailed Roman religion is, forcing one to check sources, follow the ritual precisely, with no mistakes and with the appropriate citations.

She had carefully put together the flowers, scones and almond milk — because she could not find goat's milk — for the ceremony.

She says she was annoyed when her boyfriend and concelebrant, Daniele Pieri, interrupted the ritual, forcing them to start over.

"When I met her, she said, ‘I am pagan and vegan,' and I thought ‘Great! I am coeliac!'" said Pieri, who works as a sound technician.

Pieri left the Catholic Church after the parish priest insisted he could not be harmed by receiving Communion despite being coeliac.

He said he still has an admiration for Jesus: "If Jesus had prayed to Jupiter, he would have been even cooler."

For Pieri, Roman religion is a question of identity.

"I love this city. I was born in this city, and I want to die in this city," he said.

"When I began to study Roman history and these cults, I found my roots. This is where I come from. This is who I am."

Taking turns, the members of the Communitas made their personal offering to the goddess.

Membership open

Unlike other pagan communities in Rome, the Communitas group doesn't have any initiation rite, and everyone is welcome to join.

"The Roman religion is not about saying these are my gods, and there are no others," Pieri explained.

Chiara Aliboni is a student of history, anthropology and religions from a "very Catholic family" in Perugia was also attending the ceremony.

She said she had her conversion to Orthodox Kemetism when she learned about the ancient Egyptians.

"I thought, if I am to follow any religion, it's this one," she said. While hesitant at first, she found in the Communitas a welcoming home for her beliefs.

Fizzarotti was also pleasantly surprised by the openness of this religion compared with his experiences in the Catholic Church.

"I am drawing closer to this community. I am finding many answers that I have been searching for for years," he said after the rite was completed, and the group reveled in wine and an improvised banquet.

"I am feeling emotional. I deeply felt today's ritual. It was truly beautiful," he added.

The group members gathered their things, leaving nothing behind but the lingering scent of incense.

They spoke of plans for creating a temple one day just outside Rome and of upcoming gatherings with other pagan groups. Their faith, believed to have been long lost, is still very much alive, they said.

For Camillini, as the number of Catholics dwindles in the Eternal City, he has had to face reality.

"It's time to give up the delusion of omnipotence, of evangelising Rome, and abandon the idea of making Rome into a Christian city. It's no longer our objective and it never was," he said.

• First published in Religion News Service
• Claire Giangravé is an author at Religion News Service.

This characterisation is borne out by three recent columns written by Catholics who have left the Church over the sex abuse scandals.

None of the authors proposes any higher, truer teaching than the Catholic faith. None anticipates a happier tomorrow.

Each column is, in its way, a cry of despair.

• Melinda Henneberger, a journalist who knew and admired Archbishop Theodore McCarrick, has announced that she is leaving the Church - without a clear idea of what comes next: "I'm not even sure there's such a thing as a former Catholic, but I'm about to find out."
• Melinda Selmys, a blogger at Patheos, has decided that by remaining Catholic she was "enabling the abusive people who were using the name of God to promulgate a doctrine that was a lot more draconian than what I seemed to believe."
• Damon Linker, a columnist at The Week, has resolved to leave behind the "unbearable ugliness of the Catholic Church".

All of these writers are following a trail blazed by Rod Dreher, who left the Church after covering the abuse crisis in 2002.

Angry ex-Catholics

It is not an easy road, as Dreher has since observed. "The Protestants I've known who became Catholic were not angry at the church they left behind," he writes.

By contrast, "The ex-Catholics I've known tend to be angry."

Their anger suggests the disappointment of high ideals.

These ex-Catholic writers have not, to my knowledge, pulled their children out of primary schools, which according to some studies have higher rates of abuse than the Catholic Church.

Nor have they announced that they no longer watch NBC since the Matt Lauer scandal.

Dreher has acknowledged that the Orthodox Church, where he currently worships, is far from immune to financial and sexual corruption - but he can tolerate in the one Church what he could not in the other.

This reflects a truth acknowledged by both Catholic and ex-Catholic alike.

The Church proclaims a higher, more demanding teaching than any other religious assembly. Because Catholic aspirations are higher, Catholic sins are always more shocking.

Corruptio optimi pessima - or as DH Lawrence put it, "The greater the love, the greater the trust, and the greater the peril, the greater the disaster."

No other religion could produce villains on the scale of Marcial Maciel or Archbishop McCarrick, because their crimes mock the most beautiful creed.

Linker is eloquent on this point: "When I converted to the Catholic Church 18 years ago, I did so in large part because I was deeply moved by the act of self-sacrifice that the church places at its heart."

Because he sees the beauty of Catholic claims, he is repulsed by the brazenness of Catholic sin. Continue reading

• Image: Our Lady of Joy parish

You have your reasons.

Perhaps you are rock solid in your faith.

Or perhaps it is more of a hunch, that Catholicism is where Jesus is calling you.

Conviction or hunch, you suspect that being Catholic is going to involve going to Mass.

But here's the thing: When you go to Mass, you do not get anything out of it.

You know no one, the preaching is boring, the music is worse, and whatever is happening on the altar does not make sense.

And come to think of it, it has never has made total sense to you.

So now what?

Discouraged, you could just forget the whole thing and get back to your life with Netflix, while your spiritual life withers away.

You know no one, the preaching is boring, the music is worse, and whatever is happening on the altar does not make sense.

Or you could do something about it—something more than showing up twice a year and getting depressed all over again.

You could make the local parish your parish. Imagine being part of a community of people who know and love you.

Imagine a place to worship the living God together with your fellow man and woman. Sounds good, sounds ideal really, and it can be done.

The choice is yours: Will you be a consumer or an investor?

Here are five steps to try as you move toward investing in your local church.

These five steps will help you move from being a dissatisfied consumer to a living stone in the holy Catholic Church. Continue reading

Sources

• Jack Bentz in America Magazine
• Image: America Magazine

Earlier this month, the annual meeting of the Catholic Theological Society of America grappled with the issue of the "sensus fidelium" or "sense of the faithful" of the whole Church.

The meeting opened with a presentation that sought to describe the faithful, but also raised the question of whom should be included in that group.

"We do well to pay better attention to those who are now absent," said Jerome P. Baggett, professor of religion and society at the Jesuit School of Theology of Santa Clara University.

Professor Baggett challenged theologians to be "absence-minded", to take note of those who once counted themselves among the faithful and are now missing from parishes.

According to research by the Pew Research Center on Religion and Public life, one in ten adult Americans today is an "ex-Catholic".

And a soon to be published study from the Center for the Study of Religion and Society at the University of Notre Dame will show that one-half of US youth who self-identified as Catholic as teenagers no longer identified as Catholics 10 years later.

Professor Baggett also noted two other absences: an absence of understanding of the faith among those still in the pews and an absence of public-minded conversations.

The latter is a kind of "civic silence" in which people in parishes avoid difficult conversations, not only out of a fear of conflict, but to somehow preserve the sacredness of Church communities.

Franciscan theologian Fr John Burkhard discussed the need for reception of teachings by the People of God as a counterbalance to a modern need for certitude.

"In some situations the real question is not ‘Is it true?' but ‘Is it life-giving?' " he said.

Sources

• National Catholic Reporter
• National Catholic Reporter
• Image: The Telegraph