Berkley Center

Since my arrival in Salamanca nearly three weeks ago, it has been easy to recognize the religious tenor of Spanish life. My host mother continually tells me that she loves Holy Week, with its parades and festivals, but that she can’t remember the last time that she went to church. Similarly, on a stroll through the town the other day at noon, I saw mothers, fathers, and grandparents scurrying into church for Sunday Mass. However, blatantly missing were their children and grandchildren; the elder Spaniards made little or no effort to bring them into the church, leaving them free to play soccer in the plaza outside the church or to spend the hour in a cafe.

In a word, religion in Spain is confusing. Long a stalwart Catholic nation where the state and church were irrevocably intertwined, Spain now charts a distinctly secular path, albeit with resistance from a mostly older, more conservative section of the population that sees the Catholic Church as fundamental to Spanish life. Most Spaniards that I have talked to about this phenomenon seem to agree that those above the age of 50 years old generally attend church religiously and those below this magic age do not.

To understand the transformation in church attendance, it is important to briefly discuss the history and culture of Spain. Culturally, Spain is a nation where community and family are of the utmost importance. Hence, the tradition of the siesta and the midday meal (where families return from work/school to eat the major meal of the day together at home) has endured. Once, the church provided a similar level of community, a place where Catholics in both small villages and large cities nationwide could gather every Sunday to worship with their fellow Spaniards. This faith community could be seen in nearly all facets of life–the major Semana Santa (Holy Week) celebrations, the mock battles commemorating the Catholic triumph over the Moors, and the closing of nearly all stores on the Sabbath.

However, Spanish history did much to diminish the sense of community that the Church once provided. General Francisco Franco and the Nationalist forces were victorious in the Spanish Civil War. The Catholic Church supported Franco and his dictatorial regime that lasted until his death in 1975. This date takes on additional significance if one is inclined to believe the thesis that those under the age of 50 are much less likely to attend church. Spaniards who were in high school or university when Franco died are the same Spaniards who now regularly skip Mass. Witnessing the opening of Spanish society post-Franco, while associating many of the ills of Franco’s regime with the Church, these Spaniards embarked on a different course–a course in which religion plays a decidedly secondary role.

Of course, it is worth noting that a similar decline in church attendance has been seen among the younger generations worldwide. However, in Spain, the decline has been especially pronounced and rapid. I walked into church here the other day to find a flock of grey- and white-haired Spaniards. As foreigners in Spain, it is often obvious that we are not natives of this country; our hair, our clothing, and our sometimes clumsy language skills all mark us as outsiders. However, church is perhaps the place where I feel most out of place, most like a foreigner in Spain. As I am surrounded by only the oldest segment of the Spanish population in church, it is clear that religion no longer serves as a unifying force in Spanish society. Rather, it now divides the nation. It is quite obvious that the young have little interest in the faith community that is so important to their elders.