Before all this, I worked at a hardware store. When they laid me off, I took three weeks to write and be with my family; then, at the urging of my wise and beautiful wife, I signed on as a security guard at Leominster hospital. The other day at work, as my partner and I were escorting a Corona corpse to the now-full morgue, one of the nurses muttered, "I could make more on unemployment, and I wouldn't have to put up with this shit." How very true. It's what the Shepherds of Christ's Church have done.
Now, I've heard cogent arguments on both sides. I get that by assisting at a public Mass, we put not only ourselves in danger but everyone else that we encounter, and everyone they encounter, and so ad infinitum. My objection to the episcopal decision to shut down every Sacrament they could think of (the average bishop would probably need to consult a Catechism to list all seven) is less that the thing was done at all, and more that it was done so rapidly and with such gusto. The Belgian bishops closed the churches before the government started closing businesses. Bishop Rozanski of Massachusetts has forbidden priests from administering the Sacrament of the Sick, adding magnanimously that, should they run out of Holy Oils, "you may bless the oils to replenish your stock." How could they possibly run out? Tripping over croziers in his haste to slap away the consolations of religion, the man even tried to implement the flagrant heresy of having nurses apply Holy Oil while the priest muttered blessings from behind reinforced glass.
Maybe it's prudent and/or charitable to suspend the Mass for now. I don't even want to enter that debate. I'm just shamed and sickened with contempt for the extreme and systematic cowardice of our bishops, freshly emerging from the abattoir of the sex scandals, snatching so avariciously at a chance to bar the Tabernacle door.
My wife recently went to Confession (a few priests still treasure the notion that staying alive is the not the sole and ultimate purpose of life), and she used an app from the American Bishops' Conference to aid in her examination of conscience. One of the questions it asked was, "Have I had angry thoughts toward my bishops? Have I donated money to my bishops?" What's worse, the obscene crassness of the cash-grab, or the cartoonishly pathetic attempt at slyness? A moot point, as we will be giving not a penny from the gutter to those half-painted sepulchers. Ellie summed it up perfectly when she said that the laity and episcopacy are now in a classic abusive relationship, with the bishops continuously and genuinely baffled when we express interest in not being slapped around the kitchen anymore.
The timing. This virus came so swiftly on the heels of the sex scandals that I'm reminded yet again of how not subtle God can be. They were given a chance to show some kind of resolve, some kind of courage, something other than lascivious flab in their backbones. Instead they scrambled to get away from the Eucharist the instant they glimpsed an opportunity. Remember when Frodo tried to give lembas to Gollum? "Ach! No! You try to choke poor Smeagol. Dust and ashes, he can't eat that." Our Church leaders, ladies and gentlemen.
