Twenty-four Catholic churches are to close in the Archdiocese of Glasgow. But the most alarming figure in this report is that the Archdiocese has just ONE priest under the age of 45. Archbishop William Nolan has announced plans to reduce the number of parishes by half, acknowledging that Mass attendance has collapsed and that the number of active priests has fallen by a third in less than five years. These are extraordinary figures, particularly for Glasgow, a city with such a rich Catholic history, where generations of faithful Catholics built churches, established schools and sustained vibrant parish communities, often through considerable personal sacrifice. The Archbishop speaks of pruning the vine so that it might grow. There is certainly a place for prudent stewardship and no bishop can maintain indefinitely a network of churches without sufficient priests or congregations. But pruning only produces growth when the vine itself is healthy and this raises a much more uncomfortable question. Where is the evidence of a serious and effective programme of Catholic renewal capable of reversing this decline? The crisis did not begin with Archbishop Nolan, and it would be unjust to hold him personally responsible for decades of secularisation. But episcopal leadership cannot be judged solely by how competently bishops administer the consequences of declining religious practice. For generations, bishops have been responsible for safeguarding and transmitting the Catholic faith. If successive generations have drifted away, if priestly vocations have almost disappeared, and if churches built by our forebears must now close, surely we are entitled to ask whether the Church's pastoral priorities, catechesis, evangelisation and formation of Catholic families have been adequate to the challenge. Of course, the bishops have not been inactive. There have been initiatives, consultations and restructuring proposals (and meetings, thousands of meetings). But there is a profound difference between reorganising a shrinking institution and rebuilding a missionary Church. Where are the young men discerning the priesthood? Where are the families passing on the faith? Where are the programmes bringing lapsed Catholics back to the sacraments? Above all, what is being done differently today that gives us reason to believe the next generation will not inherit an even smaller Church? These questions deserve serious answers, rather than another exercise in ecclesiastical reorganisation. The Church is not simply a collection of buildings, but neither are those buildings insignificant. They are places where generations were baptised, married, absolved of their sins, nourished by the Eucharist and commended to God's mercy. Their disappearance represents a profound loss to the Catholic life of Scotland. The bishops have inherited formidable difficulties, but they have also inherited the apostolic responsibility to proclaim Christ and make disciples. The question is no longer simply how many churches Glasgow can afford to keep open. It is what the Church intends to do to ensure that there are Catholics to fill them. Because if the response to declining faith is principally to manage the decline, rather than confront its causes, we should not be surprised when the next round of closures eventually becomes necessary. heraldscotland.com/news/2661…