Small Mission, Big Message
Our shepherd has set out again to visit his flock in the Beaufort Deanery. He started by driving to Walterboro to the smallest community of the entire Pastoral Visit.
St. James the Greater Mission sits quietly in Colleton County, a congregation that traces its roots to 1826 and was once the subject of a national documentary. It is not the largest, most resourced, or most visible community in the state, but it is faithful. That, Bishop Fabre made clear, is everything. From St. James, he traveled just a few miles down the road to St. Anthony Church, where the evening unfolded with Mass and two listening sessions — first with the English-speaking community, then with the Spanish-speaking one that gathered well into the night.
The theme woven through every conversation, every question and every prayer is that:
The Church grows where people show up, stay present and refuse to let fear have the last word.
Presence is Strategy
For decades, St. James the Greater Mission had no resident priest; its lay faithful held the parish together through the sheer love of God and the grace of baptism. The community waited, prayed, kept a Bible study alive and kept the doors open.
The conversations Bishop Fabre encountered were marked by deep pride and honest reckoning. The session opened with Paula, a mother who stopped the room before the questions had even fully begun. She described driving her twin daughters nearly 100 miles a day to attend a Catholic school — through rising gas prices and real financial sacrifice — because she could see the difference it was making in who they were becoming.
“They’re not just reading the Scriptures,” she said. “They’re proclaiming them.” It was the kind of testimony that set the tone for everything that followed.
From there, parishioners raised hard questions about the future of their building, the challenge of welcoming the growing wave of retirees arriving in the Lowcountry and the practical need for a parish website — because when newcomers arrive in town, the first thing they do is search online.
Bishop Fabre listened carefully and responded with pastoral clarity that “presence is the strategy.” Not programs or campaigns, but their continued presence. The bishop challenged every person in the room to go home and, before his next visit, bring just one new person to church with them.
Faith that Multiplies
Bishop Fabre continued to St. Anthony Church, again holding English and Spanish-language sessions that closed out the evening. St. Anthony has known its share of transitions — pastors, missionaries and communities in flux — but weathered each change with fidelity.
In the English session, parishioners raised honest questions about food insecurity, youth engagement and keeping young people connected beyond confirmation. Bishop Fabre’s response was direct: joy is not optional. He challenged the community to open the doors of ministry wide, giving young people real roles as lectors, musicians and leaders rather than asking them to wait their turn.
In the Spanish session, the mood was equally candid. Parishioners and their deacon spoke openly about what Bishop Fabre called “spiritual selfishness,” the tendency in any community to hold tightly to ministry roles rather than forming the next generation to take them on. The choir, lectors and parish councils: all are most vibrant when they become schools of discipleship instead of clubs of the long-committed.
The bishop also celebrated what is already working: a youth group that started with a Christmas pastorela and has grown to more than 20 regular members, with 50 attending the recent retreat.
Reflection
Whether you serve in a city parish or a small mission, whether your pews are full or your building is aging, the questions Bishop Fabre heard in the lowcountry are your questions too. How do we pass on a culture of service? How do we stay joyful when the work is hard and the results are slow? How do we make room for the young without losing the faithful who got us here?
There are no easy answers, but there is a way forward. It’s the way of a shepherd who leaves the office, drives down I-95 and sits with his people to listen. It is the way a deacon works in harmony with his pastor and draws the best out of everyone around him. It is the way a mother named Paula drives 100 miles because she believes the Church has something irreplaceable to offer her daughters.
That way is available to all of us, and it is more than enough to keep building our Church.
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Please credit: Doug Deas/The Miscellany