Bravest Thing (He Ever Did)

102 days. From back in March until now, it was exactly 102 days in between Masses at my local parish. It was about as I expected. As I frequently say, “expect the worst, and you won’t be disappointed.” We arrived the mandatory 15 minutes early to avoid being locked out. The church was allowed up to 30 people (technically more, but I won't get into that). Some people were spaced out, gasp, with one pew separating themselves from others. They were promptly told to move to a gap of two pews before Mass could start. That was pretty awkward. Mass was 55 minutes long. Approximately 26 minutes of that was chatter about COVID-19 and regulations. At the last second, we discovered that for those wishing to receive Holy Communion on the tongue, the priest was to wear gloves (to go along with his mask). They were super cheap hospital gloves that crinkled and touched the side of the mouth (without the priest knowing it). That’ll have to be the last Holy Communion we receive t

JP hits it out of the park with this one:

Sometimes words are hardly necessary. Behold Bishop McElroy's 2020 Pentecost Mass for all Cultures. He is head of the diocese of San Diego. Procession Reading Virtual Prayers of the Faithful Setting the Table... Incensed yet? How about now? Let's Zoom over to his view A touching photo Jammin' To quote Susan from the Parish Council: "Bless and Amem."

Friday, March 13 I remember going to the grocery store that night. It was during the days of the great toilet paper hoarding. Remember those days? As I walked through the store, empty shelves everywhere, I overheard one woman telling another person how much she hated teachers. The lady then looked up and glared at me – I think I taught her niece last year. Later at the checkout I met up with another teacher whom I work with. She was somewhat frazzled. The upcoming coronavirus shutdown, coupled with the anger delved out by so many people in town, was taking its toll. Quite frankly, we were the most hated people in town, and we knew it. At the time the provincial teachers’ federation had announced sanctions on teacher work time. There was a contract dispute, and this was the response. For me, it meant I had to stop doing recess floor hockey with the students – a hurtful occurrence for the poor students (and myself). The sanctions were tone deaf to the max. Bickering over a contrac