This review is a critique of the liturgy of St. Joseph Parish, not of its laity or priests.
First, I consider this to be a Catholic hybrid, a modernist interpretation of the Catholic tradition. The very first thing you must do as Mass begins is turn to everyone and get to know them, like they are your friends. Shaking hands, how-do-you-do, etc. This is an affront to the dignity of the Mass experience as a sacred, ancient form. The very beginning of the Mass here encapsulates the heresy of formlessness everywhere evident in this Jesuit church's liturgy.
There was zero kneeling during Mass, a reflection, perhaps, of a lack of humility toward the Lord. A woman with a weak trebly voice sang the hymns accompanied by a solo pianist, which all had a slightly Protestant bent. When it came time to recite the Lord's prayer, to my deep astonishment, the woman in the pew in front of me turned and held my hand as we said it. I have never seen this done, this kind of public invasion of privacy.
Here there is no heartening ringing of altar bells when the priest raises the host. When I went to communion, the poor server didn't seem to understand that I wished to receive communion on the tongue, which was standard for, oh, nearly 2,000 years or so, until after Vatican II and the allowance of receiving communion in the hand. He seemed literally taken aback, and it was very awkward for both him and for me.
This gets two stars for the sermon, which was very well done. The priest had enormous charisma and communicated his message sincerely. But again, the form was extremely folksy, with the priest in the aisle amongst the people, as though we were part of a 1970s Cursillo seminar. And the church gets that extra star because it is gay friendly, a Catholic church where gay people can feel truly welcome and free to participate in and serve the liturgy.
However, something that quite alarmed me as a Catholic was the stripping of "men" and "women" from the church's two restrooms. They are "gender neutral," perhaps an influence of parishioner Ed Murray, the Seattle mayor who wishes to erase our identities as men and women in the public square by converting all single-stall restrooms in Seattle to gender neutral ones under the pretense of "transgender rights." In his own church, Murray's cohort have implemented Nietzsche's "transvaluation of all values." But, even if Murray were not registered there, please, let us be perfectly truthful as Catholics. It seems objectively subversive that a Catholic church would attack the complementarity of male and female---the very bedrock of its future---by stripping its own restrooms of sex distinction and identity.
The interior has many beautiful elements. Sadly, its antique statues seemed crowded like afterthoughts to the sides with no breathing room or highlighting, hidden in the shadows, the mournful visages of the icons viewing nothing in particular, as though Jesus, His Mother, and the saints had been figuratively and literally relegated to the sidelines. A once magnificent and grand altar has been replaced by a modernist table, a mere slab. I feel sorry for all the old timers who still walk to church there, as they are being cheated out of their Catholic heritage and tradition, and probably have nowhere else to go.
If you have ever wondered why the Catholic church is now just a shadow of its former self, a wisp of smoke fading away, you need only visit St. Joseph's to witness why it is dying and how the church has failed its flock. There may be other Catholic churches in the area that are even more deliberate in their distortions of the liturgy of the Mass, but I wager you'd be hard pressed to find one. If you are seeking a a more traditional Catholic experience where the order of the Mass is treated respectfully, I suggest St. James Cathedral, or North American Martyrs (which is all Latin all the time), or Blessed Sacrament, for starters. I'm sure there are many more Catholic churches in the area that still honor the grandeur and mystery and sacredness of the traditional liturgy, as much as can be possible after Vatican II, anyway, and as much as can be found in this remote outpost of the West. read more