It seems that former common religious activities are now forbidden, for fear of the spread of some deadly virus. And yet, even the “permitted” version of worship is something of a disappointment: on entering, the churchgoers dutifully go through the fetish of sanitizing their palms, having already attached their masks to their faces. Of course, there is zero singing, and then there is some bizarre waving act instead of clasping palms to express peace. (Interestingly it could be that the Prophet Anthony Fauci (director of the NIADI in America, and the main voice behind current US Covid policies) was spot on in his chilling prediction back in April 2020 when he said that, in the face of such a dreadful, lethal scourge as Covid, we should never shake hands again. Thus speaketh the man of god).
Finally, and worst of all, we arrive at communion. In the seminary we were taught that the Eucharist (the Mass) was “the source and summit” of our faith. That’s a quote from the Catechism (# 1324), and indeed, the Eucharist has been just such a source for me, and for those with whom I have ministered over the years; and for untold, countless believers down the centuries. In the good old days, communion was something of an especially sacred part of the Mass: it was once looked upon as a serious offence to actually bite into the host, such was the perceived sanctity of the “sacred species”, as it’s called. Now, I sometimes think that the rite of communion has approached the sacrilegious: not, indeed, that any of the churchgoers is deliberately engaging in any blasphemy or irreverence; but the whole ritual looks so utterly unsightly, devoid of any dignity or decorum.
The churchgoers, mostly elderly, line up, obediently keeping whatever distance has been decreed by our controlling health chiefs; they listen to instructions as to where they should pass, instructions which may be needed at a kindergarten, but not for rational adults; then, receiving the host, the mask is deftly pulled down or pushed up, the host ingested, the mask replaced. For those using a walking stick, that final piece of facial acrobatics is not an option. So instead, they walk back to their pew in the church, bringing the host in their closed hand. The whole performance looks absolutely ridiculous, a truly holy show, worthy of a Monty Python skit.
Other preposterous stratagems devised to outwit the ferocious virus include this gem from the Philippines: while still standing at the altar the priest solemnly says the words “Body of Christ” into the microphone, so that he won’t have to utter any words to the individual worshippers as they receive communion – thus successfully avoiding a possible super-spreader event. Then there are the churches where receiving communion resembles nothing so much as a drive-thru fast-food outlet, where the burgers and fries are handed out through a window. A stand is wheeled out, the priest stands on one side, a sheet of Perspex between him and the communicant, and the host is handed out through a gap in the screen. All these are surely examples of worship gone awry.
Now when it comes to liturgy, I am no purist or legalist, but this kind of behaviour I consider unworthy of worship of the living God, who “did not give us a spirit of fear, but of love, power and self-control” (2 Tim: 1:7). Would that we had some celebrant who would announce before communion “please lower your masks for this part of our celebration, and proceed with due dignity”.
But that will never happen, because the Catholic church surrendered in 2020. It is noteworthy that the above quote is from the catechism of the Catholic church: the word “catholic” means “world-wide” or “universal”. Indeed, the Catholic church is one of the very few trans-national bodies which has the wherewithal to question or challenge any or all sovereign states, or even international bodies (U.N., WHO, etc.), or indeed the behemoth which is the current media machine.
The church Catholic is well-organized on all levels: from global to national, diocesan to parochial. Think of the potential if at any, or all, of those levels, the Church had spoken out to question our current dystopia. Alas.
The Master from Nazareth would be turning in his grave, if he hadn’t risen from the dead and his Spirit so inspired his first followers that they suffered threats and even violence from the powers of the day, took pride in their resistance and said “We must obey God rather than human beings!” (Acts 5:29). Those words and sentiments seem like a fairy tale now.