Perhaps you’ll glimpse yourself in the following “semi-autobiographical” scenario. 
 
A Catholic couple gets married. Soon after, the gift of their first child arrives. And suddenly, their backs are against the wall with little sleep—and lots of joy and stress that come in the months and years to follow as they build their family. 
 
In a fundamental and sacramental sense, their parish is there for them: with the Eucharist, the “source and summit of Christian life,” the other sacraments, liturgy, religious education, and more. But in another sense, this growing family feels a bit unseen and unsupported by their parish community.
 
Yes, they were blessed soon after the birth with a meal-chain overseen by the parish mom’s group. They felt supported in those first weeks of bringing a new life into the world. But as time passed, they wondered how to process all that life was throwing their way? Where was the setting or context in which to “do life”—and yes, discipleship and raising children in the faith—together with other couples and families? Besides Sunday Mass, where could their child see and get to know other on-fire Catholic families?
 
Life unfolds for this family. They faithfully go to Mass, but slowly—like the proverbial frog boiled by incremental increases in water temperature—they invest in a vast universe of prudential goods—work, school, sports, and extracurriculars—even as they grapple with the garden-variety effects of original sin that afflict us all (woundedness, distraction, addiction, pride, etc.).
 
Instead of enjoying a “thick community” of Catholic friendship in these pivotal years, they find themselves increasingly alone. Yes, they have all kinds of “thin community”—with fellow soccer parents, school parents, band parents, work colleagues, et al—but their kids seem to be drifting from God.  
 
Newly-announced social science data—which we touched on in our last Heaven in Your Home Letter—allows us to see the key drivers of adult religious practice in a fresh way. In his take on the new data, JD Flynn, co-founder of The Pillar, summarizes the key factors which contribute to our children embracing their Catholic faith into adulthood:

1. “Parents are married and have the same religious identity.” 
2. “Parents demonstrate that the demands of faith are important to them.”
3. “Parents talk with their children about the spiritual life.”
4. “Parents provide warmth and structure, promoting healthy attachments.”  

In addition to what we might call the above “big 4,” Flynn notes other factors (though less pivotal, per the statistics) that surface in the research, including “attending Catholic high school, having Catholic friends, and engagement with a congregation.”
 
Then, Flynn steps up to what he acknowledges is his “perennial soapbox” to preach a powerful and much-needed “sermon to the choir,” a fervorino that we enjoyed deeply. We’ll quote it at length here:  

“But there’s one predictive factor that strikes me as especially important to recognize and consider: That ‘when children grow up with many supportive Catholic adults in their lives, that increases their likelihood of remaining Catholic, even holding all the other factors fixed. Grandparents, friends’ parents, mentors, youth ministers and other non-parental adults can make a big difference.’
 
In short, the researchers demonstrated with data the Church’s own theological self-understanding: That the Church herself is the mystical communion of the baptized in Christ — and that salvation is not a single-player sport.
 
In fact, while being a faithful and devout family is good, it seems insufficient for the actually meaningful and enduring transmission of the faith to children.
 
The same researchers found something which most of us have experienced first-hand: That Catholics do not experience Christian community in their parishes, and that seems to contribute to diminished Mass attendance….
 
I grew up mostly in a small evangelical Christian community in New Jersey, and I can say with certitude that even while I have since taken up the practice of Catholicism, that small Christian community — Garwood Presbyterian Church — is a major reason I remain a Christian as an adult.
 
That little church was a thick community. Members of our ecclesial communion were expected to socialize with each other, to regularly be in one another’s homes, to be responsible for one another in sickness, or during job loss, or when families experienced crisis.

And because of that community, I can name a dozen adults whose own Christian faith was influential to me as a child — people who were not my parents, whose Christianity was palpably the animating force of their lives, and who were invested in my life. No matter how good our parishes, I’m not sure we replicate that very often, which is what contributes to the decline in Catholic religious practice or identity.
 
The truth, it seems to me, is that we just haven’t figured out very well what parish life really can look like in the wide open spaces and suburban dystopias of modern American life. There are exceptions, but for the most part, it is possible to be completely anonymous in most American parishes, or to be detached except in the most surface ways from other parishioners….
 
The little and tight knit communities of ecclesial movements, charismatic communities, and TLM parishes provide the kind of thick Christian community we have an intuitive sense that we need.
 
Addressing the crisis of thick Christian community seems to me the most pressing issue for the Church today…”  (here is JD Flynn’s unabridged reflection).

To pick up the thread of the Catholic couple we began with: here they are in Flynn’s reflection, raising a family “in the wide-open spaces and suburban dystopias of modern American life,” “anonymous,” “detached” from fellow parishioners. They yearn for thick community. At some deep level, they lament the fact that their children cannot name a dozen adults whose Christian faith is influential to them.
 
Bravo to JD Flynn for mounting his soapbox—and helping to further tease out the foundational role that thick community plays in giving our children the gift of faith.
 
The kind of community Rota, Bullivant, and Flynn are pointing to isn’t theoretical to Trinity House Community—now active at parishes in 15 states. In a survey of Group participants we conducted in just the past two months, we heard the following: 

• “The fellowship, conversations, and relationships are such an encouragement to my family.” 

• “We love it! It’s a great place to meet other Catholic families and learn from each other on how to raise children to love God and the Church.” 

• “We love the community.”

• “The sense of excitement about the domestic ‘things of God’ within a like-minded community is rejuvenating, inspiring, and motivating.” 

Where are you and your family at when it comes to finding, strengthening, or building “thick community” at your parish? Are you investing in a community where your children will have access to the “dozen adults” they arguably need to witness living out their faith? 

Wherever you are at in this journey towards thick community, be at peace. Do not be discouraged. Pray for patience. Thin community is instantaneous; thick community takes time. In a fundamental way, the Lord builds thick community. It is He who sends these “dozen adults” into our children’s lives. While it may involve a lot of intentionality, time, and effort on our parts, it is not, at the end of the day, our “project.” Giving our kids the gift of faith is ultimately the work of the Holy Spirit.  

So in faith, hope, and love, let us each ask the Lord for His guidance in taking the next small step towards community!