Notebook
It’s all very ironic, isn’t it? For years, right-minded people, I among them, have condemned the way in which social media was taking over our society. And yet here we are, in a virtual lockdown, utterly impotent but for the same social media.
I have been both a denouncer and one deserving of denunciation. I have often advocated screen-free meals, when families sit down together with no screen in sight, not even parents’. I have raised eyes to heaven when a mobile phone rings during Mass (though all the while wondering, “Is it mine?”). And I have prominently displayed a fridge magnet with the folksy message “Put away dat feckin’ phone” (a sign invariably pointed to when I am the culprit).
Temptation
Because, yes, I am also a social media fan. My smartphone is rarely off, though I have resisted the temptation of viewing emails on it, for fear it would make me ‘never off duty’. And Facebook is in my life for years. I realise it is addictive – that’s why I give it up for Lent, only breaking for St Patrick’s Day.
However, that was the day on which my Lenten fast ended in 2020, as Facebook now provides some distraction from the blanket coronavirus (Covid-19) coverage.
Despite parish reservations about social media, we do have three things going for us here in Newcestown & Farnivane. We have a parish text service to which over a quarter of parishioners have signed up. GDPR requirements have taught us that people can only have their numbers added when they request this themselves. This service delivers church and parish news (lately, mainly cancellation of church services) but also news of parish events and of the loss of parishioners to death, and requests for prayers and support.
We have had a parish website for years (www.murraghtemplemartin.com), now mainly a storehouse for parish rotas and for an archive of the most recent newsletters. This latter has proved very useful lately, as with the churches closed, we have no longer any means of distributing a printed newsletter, however the website archive keeps parishioners in touch.
Those who read the newsletter there are invited to print out two copies (if they have a printer, many people don’t) and give at least one to neighbours who may not have internet technology.
The parish Facebook page has really proved its worth since the virus closed our churches and made public Masses impossible.
Every Sunday morning now, I clear my kitchen table and position my iPad at the top of a small stepladder before streaming the Sunday Mass live, with the help of a Minister of the Word who reads via Facetime from the other side of the parish.
Mass is on the parish Facebook page (‘Murragh and Templemartin’); it’s at 10.30am every Sunday morning, and posted thereafter – some view it at a time that suits them better.
Feel free to pray the 30-minute Mass with me there. And witness the humbled priest, denouncer of social media no more.
A pandemic prayer
May we who are merely inconvenienced
remember those whose lives are at stake.
May we who have no risk factors
remember those most vulnerable.
May we who have the luxury of working from home
remember those who must choose between preserving their health or making their rent.
May we who can care for our children when their schools close
remember those who have no options.
May we who are taking precautions to protect ourselves
remember those who are risking themselves to protect and save others.
May we who have to cancel our trips
remember those that have no place to go.
May we who are losing our margin money
remember those who have no margin at all.
May we who settle in for a quarantine at home
remember those who have no home.
We ask you, Lord, to bless those we remember in this way
With your unequalled love and protection.
During this time when we cannot physically wrap our arms around each other,
Let us find ways to be the loving embrace of God to our neighbours. Amen.
– Originally from Fr Larry Tensi (St Columban Parish, Cincinnati) supplemented by an Uibh Laoire parishioner in Inchigeela, Co. Cork.
