“A church of pagans who still call themselves Christians but actually have become pagans.” This was Joseph Ratzinger’s description of the church in the old Europe already in 1958. To many, it sounded too radical: vocations were abundant, and the Catholic faith was still politically and socially fairly relevant in the continent. His prophecy about the future was also quite bold: “The real crisis has scarcely begun.” And when in 1970 he was asked what the Church would look like in 2000, he did not hesitate: “She will become small and will have to start afresh more or less from the beginning…. Men will discover the little flock of believers as something wholly new.” Once more, he was rebuked from all sides for pessimism. Today it is difficult to deny the accuracy of his forecast. The Church in Europe has become a minority and in some countries is almost disappearing. If anything, he fell short.
Ratzinger, however, was not just talking about numbers and decadence. His was not a description of the sociological fallout of the secularized Church in Europe, but rather a way to point out something essential and permanent in the Church. As he explained in 2009, “the Catholic Church must be understood as a creative minority.” How could an institution with more than a billion faithful define itself as a minority? Because “creative minority” was not for him a sociological term. It did not refer to the Church’s numbers but to her nature and mission. The Church was not a minority simply as a result of a crisis, but of her very essence. Jesus Christ, its founder, called her the salt of the earth, the light of the world, leaven in the mass, a little flock, and a mustard seed. All these images talk about something small but powerful called to engender something bigger.
But are not minorities a source of confusion and division? Will describing the Church in this way not lead us to the little-heartedness of the current identity-politics war? The Church is not a minority in this sense. Because it embraces men and women, black and white, rich and poor, young and old, it is not a destructive minority. It is not for a few but has a universal—“catholic” —vocation. It speaks all the languages of all the continents and of all times. It is not Babel but Pentecost. Like Noah’s Ark, it is a minority called to become salvation and blessing for all humanity and for the whole cosmos. Its liturgy is cosmic and universal. It is based on creation, on the truth written on the human heart.
Therefore, Ratzinger’s forecast for Europe is not pessimistic. “The destiny of a society always depends on creative minorities,” wrote Joseph Ratzinger in 2004. As such, the Church is called to renew Europe. When believing Christians think of themselves as one such creative minority, they can become the source of renewal. Thus, in the challenging situation of the Church in Europe, Benedict XVI discovered an opportunity to better manifest her essence and missionary dynamism. After the end of centuries of Christendom and social and political relevance, the Spouse of Christ can and should still fulfill her mission as poor and patient ferment, through meekness and self-denial, despite the sociological fallout of Christianity.
Can This Work in America?
Benedict XVI was thus showing the path of renewal of the Church in Europe. Now, is this question also relevant to America? At first glance, our situation seems to be completely different: religious attendance is higher than in Europe and some seminaries are thriving with vocations. Thus, when an American Catholic visits Europe for the first time, he may be shocked because of the great disparity between the beautiful ancient churches and their empty pews in most places. But if we look deeper, we see very similar patterns between the European and the American Church. Secularization has different forms and shapes but leads to the same place: silent apostasy. Many Americans may still go to church on Sundays, but they live their faith as an option among many others. A break during Covid is enough to make them stop going to Mass and increase the growing contradiction (not a paradox) of “believers who do not practice.” Consider the lack of faith in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist among so many Americans who profess to be Catholic. In other words, many call themselves Catholics but live “as if there is no God,” like pagans. Ratzinger’s prophecy for Europe in 1958 is also valid for America today.
America seems to be following Europe in her apostasy of Christ, only a few steps behind. The New World is imitating the bad example of the Old. The signs are clear: there is no longer an American moral majority as before. While we all rejoice in those few who enter the Church during Easter, hundreds of thousands are falling away from the Church every year. Christians live in America as “strangers in a strange land.” What can come out of these ashes?
Talking about our present situation several decades ago, Ratzinger identified two temptations which we see today in the Church. First, we have “those who accommodate themselves merely to the passing moment,” to the world, and take the “easier road.” Conversely, we have the reaction of those who want to remain faithful and follow the narrow way, but merely criticize others and assume that they are infallible standards, building a protective minority.
Compromise with the world gives salt that has lost its flavor. Separation from the world can become a light hidden under the bushel. The first option lives with the fear of losing members and political power. The second option lives with fear of the world. Between these two options, a creative minority keeps its strong identity while embracing courageously its missionary vocation. As a creative minority, the Church does not make accommodations or compromises with the world. At the same time, it overcomes nostalgic temptations of seclusion and self-centeredness. It fights the battles of tomorrow, not those of yesterday.
Renewal in America
From its beginning, our nation has struggled between individualism and the tyranny of the majority. Individualism leaves the person isolated; the majority transforms it into an instrument for power. Creative minorities overcome this dilemma by embracing the richness of each person coming from and being called to communion with others.
To talk about creative minorities is to talk about freedom, and America was built upon liberty as the inalienable right given by the Creator to every human being. Neither the denial of freedom by the totalitarian demands of the state nor the affirmation of liberty by the isolated and weak individual is the place of genuine freedom, but rather the creative minority: freedom received and cultivated in the communion of persons.
A minority can also become destructive as an accumulation of individuals demanding recognition and power. Today we witness the rise of identity politics: minorities based on sexual orientation, racial identity, and ethnicity dominate American politics. These minorities divide the population into small pockets fighting for attention in opposition to others.Against destructive minorities and the “identity politics” war we live in today, creative minorities are the source of communion among persons in the truth of love: families, schools, associations, churches.
America does not need to follow the Old Continent’s missteps. It does not need to wait to be where Europe is now to rediscover its roots. Creative minorities—the Church, schools, families—are called to be the main actors of a new beginning.
How will creative minorities renew the Church and America as a society? Here we suggest seven concepts we need now.
1. The place where the gift is received and cultivated. A “creative minority” is a community of persons where the gifts of the Creator—life, freedom, and happiness—are best received, cultivated, and put at the service of the common good. Its beginning is not just human initiative, but a gift received which calls for a grateful and generous response. The family, the school, the parish, and other associations are called to become creative minorities where we all learn how to receive the gift of life and cultivate our relationships in the truth of love.
2. A minority centered in Christ. Families, schools, and parishes find their origin and goal in Jesus Christ, the beginning, the end, and the center of history and of the world, the one who knows us and who loves us, the companion and friend of our life. The Church, the creative minority established by Him, recognizes him as “the king of the new world, the secret of history, the key to our destiny, the mediator, the bridge, between heaven and earth. He is our Savior, our greatest benefactor, our liberator,” in the words of Paul VI. Away from him it ceases to be creative. The Church finds her essence afresh in that which was always at her center: “faith in the triune God, in Jesus Christ, the Son of God made man, in the presence of the Spirit until the end of the world.”
3. A universal minority. Minorities tend to be exclusive and particular. They demand rights and privileges. Because they are rooted in Christ, center of the world, creative minorities do not separate. They are not an ethnical minority, but they have a universal vocation. A few receive a gift so that—through them—many be saved. A family is creative when it is open to other families and neighbors of every age and race.
4. Eucharistic minorities. The Church is born at the foot of the cross from the gift of self of Christ: “This is my body… for you.” Its origin is not a protective but a eucharistic election. It does not live by entitlement, rights, or fear of losing power, but with gratitude, duties, and desire to serve. The Eucharist is its source, center, and goal. In faith and prayer the Church is called to “recognize her true center and experience the sacraments again as the worship of God and not as a subject for liturgical scholarship,” wrote Ratzinger. From the sacramental stream that flows continuously from the heart of Jesus, the creative minorities of families and schools are regenerated.
5. Missionary minorities. Because the Church knows the human heart and lives in a eucharistic election, she is unafraid of opposition. It is not so much about protecting her members but about strengthening them in their spiritual battle. The Church, an essentially missionary minority, is not run by fear and is ready to offer the supreme witness ofmartyrdom.
6. Cultural minorities. A missionary minority is not worried about retaining political or social power but about engendering culture and transforming it. St. John Paul II’s option was clear: Culture first. A creative minority cultivates what is human and generates good soil around itself, a healthy atmosphere where human life can flourish. It is not worried about losing privileges or possessions from the past, but about transmitting the faith to the future generations.
7. Laboratory and home of freedom. A creative minority is not simply a mass of individuals. In it, each person is relevant, not dissolved in the ocean of the majority. As a result, the history of civilizations does not follow a determined biological path but depends on the freedom of human beings.
What we need now are families, parishes and schools centered in Jesus Christ and nourished by the Eucharist. We need families open to life, devoted to prayer, and active in the world. We need parishes refreshed by the sacrament of confession and strengthen by adoration. We need schools creating a culture for families where virtue and knowledge are fulfilled in Christ.
Ratzinger’s description of the Church as a creative minority is not pessimistic or optimistic. It is a message of Christian hope. The Creator has endowed all men with the inalienable gift (right and duty) of freedom, that is, the ability to choose the true good. The future of the Church will be reshaped by saints, by men and women who will use this gift well, led by the Holy Spirit, those “whose minds probe deeper than the slogans of the day, who see more than others see because their lives embrace a wider reality.”
Fr. Luis Granados, DCJM, is a fellow professor at Franciscan University of Steubenville, adjunct professor at St. Joseph Seminary, Dunwoodie, in Yonkers, NY, and Headmaster at Stella Maris College Preparatory School in Stamford, CT. He earned a Doctorate of Theology from the Pontifical John Paul II Institute for Marriage and the Family in Rome.
Fr. Ignacio de Ribera-Martin, DCJM, is Associate Dean for Undergraduate Studies of the School of Philosophy and Associate Professor at the Catholic University of America. His areas of study include Aristotle, Philosophy of Nature and Life, and Metaphysics.
This essay was adapted from Creative Minorities: The Leaven of Christianity, which was originally published in Spanish in 2011. In December 2024, an updated English version was published by Cluny Media. You can purchase the book here.