By Carrie Gress

An article caught my eye this week at Food & Wine explaining how long-shuttered scotch distilleries are reopening. The "ghost distilleries" that dot the untamed Scottish countryside are firing up their stills again and producing the liquid gold that never quite went out of style. Despite shuttering in the 70s, labels like Port Ellen and Brora, saw their reputations increase instead of erased. Labels long believed to be unprofitable are now making a comeback.

There is something similar happening in the Catholic Church. We are slowly figuring out that it is okay to get involved again in the culture. The Church isn't merely papal prognostications, brick and mortar church buildings, or daily homilies. The faith, when lived properly, splashes out into the broader culture. The elements of the faith well-lived become embodied in poetry, music, theatre, literature, architecture, wine and spirits (like the aforementioned scotch), jewelry, and art. Think of Europe. Millions of tourists still flock to Europe, not to visit the ugly communist blocks of sterile concrete buildings, like in Nova Huta just outside of Krakow, but to tour the medieval churches that boggle the mind with their beauty and innovation. 

Gratefully, Catholics have been making strides in these areas, trading in saccharine music and childish felt banners of the 70s for something that requires the maturity of artists and craftsmen. True expressions of Catholic culture have the incredible capacity to draw in not just the faithful, but also the unfaithful.

There is a new act in town: The Hillbilly Thomists. They are a bluegrass band made up of Catholic priests - Dominican friars, to be more precise. This unlikely crew play well-known musical instruments like the guitar, fiddle, piano, bass, mandolin, but also the accordion, washboard, dulcimer, and bodhrán, a kind of a drum. Their lyrics feature hardscrabble wisdom, timeless story telling, folksy allegory, and the clear message of the Gospel, with titles like "Bourbon, Bluegrass, and The Bible," "Holy Ghost Power," and "Poor Wayfaring Stranger."

This unlikely boy-band, or friar-band, are going places few evangelizing Catholics can scarcely dream of reaching. They have been featured at the Grand Ole Opry and The Zac Brown Band recently included them in their concert at Providence College.

My favorite instagram clip of their wide reach is of the band at a gas station in Indiana while on the road. Somehow, during the time it takes for a fill-up, the friars connect with a man in his souped up 80s muscle car and everyone else at the station. The video features one of their songs blaring from the muscle car speakers. 

The Hillbilly Thomists' musical effort somehow crosses that barrier between what people think they know about Catholicism and what they see in front of them which doesn't fit into that mental box. Their music evokes joy, mirth, creativity, and faith through compelling rhythms and rich lyricism. In their distinctly Catholic expression, they are doing incredible evangelical work. Like redeemed pied pipers, their joy and mastery of music are doing what few catechetical program can do - allowing the masses to see the faith afresh with new eyes and ears.

The best part of The Hillbilly Thomists is that no talent scout or agent could have thought them up. "Let's create a band of Catholic priests who perform in centuries-old habits that look out of place just about everywhere. And then, let's have them play bluegrass infused with Catholic themes. Their name will blend a derogatory term for an uneducated man and a relatively obscure philosophical tradition, coined Flannery O'Conner." You can imagine how well this would go over among well-heeled c-suite elites.

And yet, this unlikely collection of men, faith, and music all come together for something charming, healing, and just fun. The Hillbilly Thomists are a reminder that Catholic culture has the capacity to reinvent itself in fresh and compelling ways that captures friend and foe alike.

Thirty years from now, when The Hillbilly Thomists have their own "rockumentary" it won't be about men blindsided by success, surrounded by groupies, money, and fame. Instead, it will feature the scapular-clad fangirls in tees that say "A Good Band Is Hard To Find," young men in trucker hats that say "Bourbon, Bluegrass, and The Bible," asking if the band will "sign my Summa," and the spiritually uninitiated caught up in the band's lively and holy spirit. And there will be stories of conversion, transformation, and wonder - all the things that happen when the faith well-lived comes alive in culture.