Not every city is as Catholic as New Orleans

It may not seem like a strange question, but it serves as a reminder – to me anyway – that I am not living in a familiar city.
New Orleans is overwhelmingly Catholic. There’s no shortage of churches and Catholic tradition. St. Louis was similar. 
 

Those similarities probably had a lot to do with the cities’ backgrounds – their identities as French settlements and their founding along the banks of the mighty Mississippi.
 

Montgomery is different. Where do you go to church?
More often than not, the person asking the question is trying to place you in the overwhelmingly Protestant majority. 
 

Unbeknownst to me, the first time I answered with my parish affiliation, there was a look of confusion. The church didn’t seem to ring a bell. When the same thing happened a second time – and continuously registers with either confusion or a blank expression followed by an invitation of fellowship – I wondered what was going on.
 

About 86% of Alabamians consider themselves Christian, according to Pew Research. Of those 86%, the majority are evangelical Protestants. A mere 7% identify as Catholic. 
 

This makes sense given the vast number of Protestant churches lining the streets on my way to work. I should count them one day, but just in my direct line of sight, I pass a number of Presbyterian, Anglican, Methodist and Baptist churches. There are only seven Catholic churches in the city.
 

Imagine that. Being able to count the number of churches on your hands. It’s an adjustment. For the past few weekends, we’ve had neighbors come to our doors (welcome back, Southern hospitality!) to check in on us – and invariably invite us to their church gathering.
 

Hospitality and the evangelical Protestants seem, moreover, to run together – at least in this city. One of the largest differences that I’ve noticed in my new parish is its relatively few opportunities for mothers and children. There are no Catholic day cares, for instance. There are no “mom groups” – gatherings for moms with childcare provided. But both of those opportunities abound in the other denominations.
It makes me question the reasoning behind these lost fellowship opportunities. In a state that confesses itself Christian, what draws people to other churches? 
 

One of my neighbors admitted to being raised Catholic but ultimately converted – if that’s the right term – to the Presbyterian faith, primarily because she felt a greater sense of community. In a world of increasing individualism and isolation, community seems to be the one thing that people desire in their religious experience.
 

It’s an interesting phenomenon. I had always heard about the different “flavors” of religion based on state or region. I never truly knew what that meant until I moved into a city that is not professedly Catholic. 
 

Dr. Heather Bozant Witcher can be reached at [email protected]