Celebrating Easter online – worshipping via the web
REPORTER FOUND PRAYERS AND RITUAL ON THE INTERNET WHEN HE CRANKED UP HIS COMPUTER AT HOME. THE PANDEMIC MAY MEAN THAT CONGREGATIONS ARE BARRED FROM THE CHURCHES – BUT THEY CAN STILL PARTICIPATE
THE voice on my computer says ‘ Thank you for joining Father John and me.’ It is a disembodied voice – no sign on screen yet of Father Gerard or of his colleague. Instead, Good Friday viewers are treated to an unmoving view of the compact altar in the Holy Rosary church. Though the picture is perfectly clear and the sound quality is fine, the production values are far shy of Hollywood blockbuster standard.
No one logs on to the webcam of Greystones parish church expecting tracking shots or special effects.
This is broadcasting at its most straightforward, simple yet effective, offering a few minutes of normality in a world gone Covid-19 crazy.
‘ Thank you for joining Father John and me’: yet of course we are not joining them at all, not in person.
The rules of social distancing mean that the two priests are alone in the church for 10 o’clock prayers on Good Friday.
And they must be careful not to breach the two metre rule as they go through the prescribed ritual of one of the most important dates on the Christian calendar.
The photos on the Greystones Parish website include one of pews packed on the happy past occasion of a first Holy Communion service.
The contrast with the echoing acoustics which characterise religious observance in the midst of a pandemic is obvious.
The recorded choir sings a Good Friday ‘Gloria’, with a psalm and a lesson from the Book of Isiah following in due order.
Only when the time comes to venerate the simple wooden cross which has been erected in front of the altar do John and Gerard appear in front of the camera.
Keeping their proper distance from each other, they drape their red cloth over the arms of the cross.
They are both robed in full vestments as they follow the rituals of the ceremony.
They pray for those suffering poverty, war, loneliness and broken hearts.
But this is corona time, so there are prayers too for those affected by the virus – the patients, their families, the deceased and the frontline health workers.
The blessing is delivered for the benefit of the un-seen watchers before the priests leave the stage – ‘Word without end. Amen’
Talking to him afterwards on the phone, it is clear that the irony of the line from the liturgy ‘We Stand Together’ in such circumstances is not lost on Father John Daly.
The streaming of services from Holy Rosary is by no means a new phenomenon but the lockdown means that people are clicking on in unprecedented numbers.
And the parish has added another string to its virtual bow in response to the crisis, with evening prayers now shared on the web-conferencing app Zoom.
Around 70 worshippers have been taking up the invitation to join in each day, using technology doubtless devised originally with business meetings in mind.
Greystones has a team of internet savvy volunteers ready to assist parishioners – most of them cocooning – who may struggle to set up such software on their phones or computers.
‘Zoom is a way of connecting people,’ declares John – who could have imagined him saying that a few months ago? ‘It’s a different way of being in church.’
Different, certainly, and also growing. He has been monitoring volume of interest in the webcam broadcasts since the pandemic broke.
He reckons that the Palm Sunday Mass had 2,000 viewers, or followers, or worshippers, or whatever they should be called.
He was intrigued to find that by no means all of these were in Greystones.
He is quick to dismiss the notion that it is the power of his homilies which attracts interest from London, the Netherlands or Spain, not to mention Sligo and Dublin.
It turns out that, unable to hug each other in person, families are coming together over the world wide web, knowing that they are all watching the same Mass at the same time and saying the same prayers.
With only 10 mourners permitted to attend obsequies, the web-cast recordings of funerals are providing a service which is not only popular but also valuable.
As he works in one of the biggest parishes in the country, with so many his colleagues out of action, Father John Daly has found himself very much on the front line.
Four of the six priests in Greystones are self-isolating, leaving him and Father Gerard Tyrell as the men out in the field in nursing homes and hospitals.
The self-isolators recorded Easter messages for their flock at their front doors for internet transmission, of course.
Meanwhile John and Gerard are the ones who deal with families face to face in their times of grief, whether Covid-19 related or not.
The pandemic protocols which remove the personal, physical touch from their sacred ministry are tough for all concerned and John admits: ‘We are learning as we go along.’
The internet is proving to be Christianity’s most powerful learning tool in the midst of the
ZOOM IS A WAY OF CONNECTING PEOPLE. IT’S A DIFFERENT WAY OF BEING IN CHURCH. WE ARE LEARNING AS WE GO ALONG
collective misfortune.
While Father John has more than 800 boys and girls on his list for first Holy Communion or confirmation this year – when the postponed ceremonies will take place is anyone’s guess – Reverend Cathy Hallissey is at the helm of a much smaller ship.
The Church of Ireland rector in Enniskerry has been in charge of the churches of Saint Patrick in Powerscourt (in the village) and Saint Brigid’s in Kilbride (the one beside the N11) for a year.
A few weeks ago, as the extent of the health threat became apparent, orders from the diocese dictated that they must both be closed.
Her response to the shutdown is surprising: ‘ This is a godsend to me.’
At time of writing none of her parishioners has succumbed to thee coronavirus, leaving her free to develop her mission to become a virtual vicar.
She has been working away on her MacBook Air computer, turning the rectory kitchen into a film production studio.
Reverend Hallissey was already familiar with the programmes needed for the work of being what she calls ‘ being creative in our out-reach’ – making iMovies.
She has developed a puppet character called Copper Pot who speaks to the children of the parish school.
Now the terrible circumstances afflicting the world mean that this work, formerly a sideline, has become her principal connection with the parish.
Her out-reach is attracting hundreds of ‘ looks’ on Facebook or on the Enniskerry parish website, at a rate which is far in excess of the usual.
‘ The last few weeks have given me the time to go back to the drawing board and create – I love the fact that it is creative,’ says Cathy who has become adept at incorporating slides and music into her social media offerings.
She has an easy and engaging manner, naturally at home in front of the camera as her ‘Reflections from the Bench’ series of short movies illustrate.
The cleric makes full use of the pretty surroundings of the Powerscourt church, where the bench of the title is offered to those seeking rest and perhaps contemplation.
She suspects that what she has learned will not prove wasted once the world returns to normal: ‘I hope the church will continue to reach out in this way.’
But she has found too that the internet is not the answer to everything. When restrictions were introduced, she considered assembling a team of people to keep in contact with anyone who might be lonely or in need of practical support. It was heartening to discover that this was happening informally anyway …
Click on Easter Sunday to the bright and airy Catholic church in Blessington where morning Mass is led by parish priest Father Richard Behan.
With plenty of space available, it is possible to have a small choir and a photographer present, as well as the three men in vestments on the spacious altar, without breaching the current protocols.
The readings and prayers are more or less as usual for the day that is in it, though without any of the excitement and the chocolate eggs that children would bring to the occasion.
Guest celebrant Father Joe Connolly has travelled from Ballymore Eustace to be present as his parish does not have the webcam which allows the ceremony reach out beyond the walls of the church of Our Lady.
‘An extraordinary day,’ says Joe as he looks out across pews which would normally be well populated for the festive service. ‘Happy Easter everybody’.
After the priests and the musicians and the photographer have left, the image from the altar eventually fades, to be replaced by a message: ‘ This camera is currently offline but please say a little prayer for the nurses, doctors and all healthcare industry workers. They need all the help they can get. Amen.’
We can all say amen to that.