Church of the Resurrection issued the following announcement on May 13.

I grew up a farm field away from the backwaters of the Mississippi. While in Wisconsin you are never very far from water, I got used to the seasons being reflected in the river. In March you started watching for the breakup of the winter ice. For months, the river was just like everything else—a solid (and eventually, ugly) expanse of frozen whiteness. Hungry for signs of spring, by March you would start waiting for signs of the breakup. The first was the disappearance of fishing shanties. Sometimes there would be spots where water would pool, turning the ice surface yellow. Then fissures would start darkening the surface, and all of a sudden, it would happen … and the ice would be gone, as if instantaneously, and on sunny days the water would turn a brilliant blue, a welcome sign of spring.

Something like the eagerness with which I watched for the ice break-up is happening as we count the weeks that we have been living “Safer at Home.” There’s a sense of restlessness around, more traffic on 6th Street, more welcoming signs as some businesses get the “green light” to re-open, more comments about people needing haircuts. And, of course, the “all-coronavirus, all-the-time” newspeople have made “When will this all be over?” the question of the day. Every day.

Bishop Callahan called for a virtual meeting of the Deans (of which I am one) last Thursday. We had all seen the Milwaukee Journal piece announcing the return to Sunday church services in the Archdiocese on May 31st, and the clergy grapevine has been filled with rumors about what would happen here. Think of it as “priests pulling their shanties off the ice.” The minutes of the Deans Meeting describes the conversation as “spirited” (which is a word used in church circles to signal considerable disagreements).

The Bishop was, in the end, quite clear about holding firm for now to the policies he’d set in mid-March. All public Sunday and weekday Masses are suspended; daily non-public liturgies at non-announced times, funerals, baptisms, and weddings with nine or fewer in attendance are permitted. No parking-lot Masses, outdoor Masses, or parking-lot rosaries at this time. First Communions to be delayed until the Governor lifts restrictions on larger gatherings. No Confirmations until after June 26. So, unlike news from Milwaukee, there was no announced date yet about returning to Sunday Masses. The next step, perhaps to be introduced in a couple weeks, will be an effort at making the Distribution of Holy Communion more widely available in small groups during a block of time on Sundays. Then again, with better news from the health department and a word from Madison, more cracks might appear in the ice.

I came across an op-ed piece by a Catholic columnist, Simcha Fisher, that makes me wish she had been invited to our “spirited” discussion with the Deans: “I’ve heard more times than I can count, that ‘Catholics who are content to stay home from Mass’ simply don’t love and want Jesus enough; that those who willingly forgo the Eucharist because   of the pandemic are doing so because they are lukewarm. I’ve heard over and over that Catholics who truly understand what an incredible thing the Eucharist is will be willing to go to Mass and risk catching the virus because they are not cowards… 

Since I keep hearing these things, I’ll say it: If the thing you call “love” is voluntary and makes other people suffer, then that’s not love. That’s something else. 

A pandemic is, by definition, a shared risk. Very few people are so radically isolated and independent from other people that they can take on a personal risk that isn’t also a risk to someone else. An asymptomatic person may feel his heart burning with love for Christ in the Eucharist, and unknowingly pass on the virus to the priest, who goes on to infect everyone he touches, in and out of Mass. Or a healthy person may catch the virus from the priest, and then pass it along to the next three people they meet at the grocery store. 

We know this can happen. We know this is exactly how it happened, causing hundreds of thousands of people to suffer and die. Taking steps to avoid the transmission of the virus to others isn’t cowardice. It’s not lukewarmness. It’s not a sign of weakness or fear or selfishness. It is the very thing that people do when they love each other: They make sacrifices. They forgo good things. They take care. They wait. This is what love sometimes looks like. And we are commanded to love one another. If we’re truly willing to suffer for love, then we should be willing to choose the suffering of waiting.”

I appreciate Ms. Fisher’s take on current times. When I conceive of it as a gift, rather than as a limitation of my right, it becomes easier to bear the pain of waiting. Remember that Jesus is always a gift, and in no way something we deserve or are entitled to. Recall that we are called to love. So, out of love, be content to wait.

Msgr. Mark

Original source: http://eastsideparishes.org/east/pastors-letter-may-17-2020/