The move comes after about 10,000 officers' and support staff's personal information was leaked last month.

The data was mistakenly released in response to a freedom of information request.

Superintendent Gerry Murray confirmed he told officers they should bring weapons to Mass if they feel unsafe.

And they do feel unsafe.

"The idea is that they should feel safe while entering the Catholic Church and also leaving the Catholic Church, and there's no better way, the issue of the personal protection weapon is for that, for personal protection," Murray said.

Murray, the chairperson of the Catholic Police Guild of Northern Ireland, said: "We have had officers resigning, going from the organisation."

Chief resigns

On Monday, Northern Ireland's chief constable of Police Simon Byrne (pictured) resigned. His resignation followed several weeks of pressure over the data breach.

The pressure was also on Byrne over a court ruling that he had unlawfully disciplined two junior officers.

He had been due to attend Tuesday's House of Commons Northern Ireland Affairs Committee session.

"We are in a dark space. We are in a downward spiral," said Liam Kelly, the chair of the Police Federation for Northern Ireland.

Government criticised

Northern Ireland Police and civilian staff feel frightened, horrified and betrayed by their employer because of the data breach, their representatives told the parliamentary committee.

They want the UK government to help with large-scale funding.

"Despite it being 25 years on from the Good Friday Agreement, we are finding we are having to police against the backdrop of a severe terrorist threat," Kelly said.

He noted morale among police officers had already been "plummeting rapidly". Recruitment had been a challenge even before the breach, he told the committee.

"There is a crisis and I don't think that even if we see the return of a Northern Ireland executive, the money is not there in its coffers. We need Westminster and the UK government to step in here."

Parliamentary Committee investigating

The Northern Ireland Affairs Committee is investigating the data breach. Representatives of the policing board had been expected to appear before MPs on Tuesday.

The board, however, withdrew from the hearing after Byrne's resignation. A public session of the board scheduled for Thursday was also cancelled.

Parliamentary committee chair, Simon Hoare, said he was disappointed the Northern Ireland Policing Board felt it had been unable to attend the session.

It "should be in no doubt" that the Board would have to answer questions before MPs, he said.

Source

• Sky News
• The Guardian

I have spent three weeks at the South Pole Station with the IceCube Neutrino Observatory, which is looking to detect tiny particles called neutrinos which come from cosmic events in deep space and help us learn more about our universe!

The South Pole Station is like a larger International Space Station.

There are only about 150 people here in a single, two-story building, which means you can get to know pretty much everyone and form an awesome community.

The downside is that there is less infrastructure, such as organised religious gatherings.

Holidays like Christmas and Hanukkah are celebrated with fancy dinners from the galley staff, but there aren't religious services, unless you organize them yourself.

McMurdo Station, on the other hand, is more like a small town.

Located on the Ross Sea, McMurdo, or "Mactown", is the largest of the U.S. stations and hosts up to 1,000 people during the summer months.

McMurdo Station boasts more "real-world" amenities like a coffee house, recreation department, multiple bars, and even a chapel.

I got to spend about 10 days in McMurdo Station on my way to and from the South Pole and experience the religious offerings of the station.

On my first trip through McMurdo, I was first struck by the beauty of the continent, and the second was how every high point on station was designated with a cross.

Each cross was a memorial to those who had died on the continent.

The crosses were sobering reminders of the extreme conditions people have and still face here and how lucky I am to be here.

But they were also comforting reminders of faith as I adjusted to my new life for the next month, thousands of miles away from home and anything familiar.

Even from town, I can see the silhouette of crosses against the constantly lit sky and know that someone is looking out for me.

My absolute favourite place on Station is the Mary Shrine on the Hut Point Ridge Trail, affectionately nicknamed "Rollcage Mary" due to the roll cage that attempts to protect her from the harsh winds and weather that unexpectedly sweep across the peninsula she sits on.

It was a beautiful place to chat and pray with my heavenly friends.

One night, I felt overwhelmed and needed to escape the bustling McMurdo Station and my cramped isolation quarters.

I walked up to Mary and just sat in her shelter, cocooned in my parka, watching the skuas float on the windy air streams.

The very first place I went after arriving at the station was the Chapel of the Snows.

It sits prominently at the end of the road overlooking the Ross Sea, with the Royal Society Mountain Range peeking behind on a clear day.

You can't miss it.

Anyone going to or from the dorms, galley, or science lab pass by the unique white and blue building.

The current Chapel of the Snows was dedicated in 1989 after the previous building burnt down.

It is a non-denominational building that serves as a gathering and worship space for all residents of McMurdo Station, as well as the nearby New Zealand Scott Base.

My favourite part of the chapel is the stained-glass window, which features the continent's outline, a chalice, bread, and a penguin!

There are also two cute painted penguins saying goodbye as you exit.

There are chairs, cushions, and lots of books for use by all faith groups residing on station.

Each summer season, the religious communities of McMurdo Station are supported by chaplains provided by the U.S. Navy, the U.S. National Air Guard, or the Diocese of Christchurch, New Zealand.

Usually, the chaplains work out of the Chapel of the Snows, but we had a rare visit from Chaplain Donny Chamberlin when I was at the South Pole Station.

It was amazing to connect and talk faith over a meal, who was passionate about connecting with people.

Each week, residents of McMurdo Station will organize religious gatherings.

There's Shabbat on Friday nights, an interfaith worship service on Sunday mornings, followed by a Catholic service afterwards.

I got to spend one Sunday on station and I was thrilled to attend service.

There were about ten of us gathered, including two volunteers who led us in a lay service since there was not currently a priest on station.

We said the prayers, read the readings and even had a communion service with hosts consecrated by a visiting priest from earlier this season.

Mass has always been a tricky part of my Catholic faith.

It was one of the things I was forced to do as a kid growing up, and it's the main thing other Catholics will tell you you have to do to be a "good Catholic."

Mass often feels mundane, boring, and disconnected from my spirituality, and the parish community tends to drive my will to attend each Sunday.

However, this time, it was AMAZING to reconnect with something so familiar in a faraway place and unfamiliar in every way.

Ten strangers became an instant community in our shared bond of faith.

Staring past the stained-glass window to the Royal Society Mountains behind the Ross Sea, I felt full of peace; I felt at home on this distant continent.

It was definitely one of the most meaningful services of my life and I was grateful for the experience.

• Elaine Krebs is a Roman Catholic Christian currently living in Los Angeles. She graduated from the University of Southern California with a Master's Degree in Marine and Environmental Biology, and now works as both a science teacher at a local museum, as well as Confirmation Coordinator at her local parish. Elaine was first introduced to interfaith work as a member of USC's Interfaith Council, and continues to be involved, especially surrounding the intersection of science and religion. She also enjoys studying and experiencing diversity within religions, especially the different rites within Catholicism.
• First published in Interfaith America.

It wasn't until a youth minister explained the significance, depth and beauty of the Mass that my eyes (and heart) were truly opened.

Slowly, over time, I began to see the liturgy differently. It was as though, with every fact and insight I learned, the dots began to connect between the history and the mystery — between God's divinity and our humanity, all colliding within the parish walls.

I was given a great gift, a proverbial "pearl of great price", by a soul who not only knew about the Mass but who was patient enough to walk with me as my heart and soul opened up to this timeless, inestimable treasure from heaven.

We all desire for the next generation to develop a deep and abiding love for Scripture and the sacraments, in particular the Eucharist, but how do we develop and "unleash" that love in an increasingly overstimulated, disengaged, and screen-obsessed culture?

After more than 25 years in youth ministry, I have found out the hard way what does and doesn't work to engage hormone-packed tech-savvy adolescents with the Catholic faith.

Here are some of my suggestions to help teens get excited about Mass:

Our teenagers need our time more than our teaching points

It's important to meet our teenagers where they're at, without any expectation of them changing their disinterest (or even repulsion) of Mass overnight. With this patience (that only comes from God), they have the space to grow and encounter God for themselves.

The key to evangelization that many well-intentioned ministry leaders sorely miss is this: If you want someone to care about the "what" (church teaching), they must first encounter the "who" (Lord)." Everything we do in the Mass points to worship and to who God is.

You show teenagers who God is through how you live your faith: The reverence with which you receive the body and blood of Jesus, the time you spend in adoration and Scripture and the way you interact with Jesus in the Mass like he's sitting next to you, arms wrapped around you.

They will see that, undeniably, something beyond this world is transpiring before their eyes and begin to encounter the "who" that is the source of the "what."

Go the extra mile

If you want your teenagers or the teens in your parish to really engage in the Mass, it begins with asking yourself this question, "How far am I willing to go for that to happen?"

Are you willing to be a consistent example to your own kids of what it means to enter into worship?

Are you willing to fulfil your baptismal call and sacramental pledge to raise them "according to the law of Christ and his church" (i.e. take them to Mass whether they want to go or not)? Are you willing to help equip the youth minister with the right resources to aid their catechetical efforts? Continue reading

I can see the local Catholic church from my window, but I haven't been inside it since the brief window, mid-pandemic, of supposed normality in July 2021. From my small town in Oregon, I go to Mass first in Chicago and then in Los Angeles.

Perhaps I should say that I go to services in Chicago and Los Angeles, as no one has yet figured out how to go to Communion via Zoom.

I do miss receiving the Eucharist.

In years past, when I worked for a Catholic parish, I often went to daily Mass.

Back then, I couldn't have imagined going without the Body of Christ for months or years, as is the burden of some communities in remote areas of the world.

I always felt blessed to have the opportunity to go to Mass whenever I wanted.

But I was a different person back then.

I think of my Catholicism now as a fragile little bird that I keep sheltered in the nest of my heart.

My life changed when one of my children came out of the closet.

As the parent of a transgender person, I felt called to advocate publicly for civil rights and equal treatment for the L.G.B.T. community, which meant that I had to leave my paid position at the parish.

The sexual abuse scandal was also swirling around the Catholic Church at the time.

My husband, a cradle Catholic, opted out and became an Episcopalian.

The safe edifice of my Catholic family had crumbled.

Long story short: I fell from being a pillar of parish programs to sitting alone in a back pew.

I think of my Catholicism now as a fragile little bird that I keep sheltered in the nest of my heart.

I'm still here. Even as my trans child felt abandoned and reviled by the faith into which they were baptized, even as my husband was no longer at my side during Mass, I stayed.

I was a Catholic, by God.

I was not going to be driven out.

Rather than throwing up my hands and surrendering, I held on by a fingernail.

The personal criticism, the institutional blindness, the wear and tear of alienation, even the lurking guilt I had for not leaving the church to support my child would not win.

But there were many times I wanted to get up and make a dramatic exit during a homily that, for example, compared civil marriage equality to letting monkeys marry.

I would tell myself that one priest's unkindness did not represent Jesus.

In this age of "traditionalist" rhetoric spouted by some American Catholics in the public square—trashing the pope and pretty much ignoring Catholic social justice teaching—I knew that the call of Jesus was not what I was hearing from those sources.

But Lord, they were loud.

Even as my trans child felt abandoned and reviled by the faith into which they were baptized, even as my husband was no longer at my side during Mass, I stayed.

Then came the pandemic of 2020, when going to Mass in person was not a safe option; in some places it was not an option at all.

Catholics looked for Masses in parking lots or on TV.

Searching the internet brought me to two Zoom Masses far from my home.

One was streamed from a large and vibrant parish in a city. Another was broadcast by a friend, a retired priest who said Mass at his own kitchen table.

I felt protected from the virus by using these opportunities, and my little bird of faith felt protected, too, by the love and compassion that informed the homilies given by the priests and deacons at these Masses.

It's not that I felt safe from controversy, or placated in my own bubble of belief, because these homilies were thought-provoking and challenging.

I wasn't only hearing what I wanted to hear.

But I felt engaged.

I also felt focused.

Sitting alone at my table, nothing distracted me from the Scripture readings or the prayers of intercession.

Seeing the digital grid of fellow Catholics—living, breathing worshippers who were similarly isolated—somehow gave me a stronger sense of communion than I had felt in a church building in a long time.

Several of us sometimes stayed online after Mass ended to discuss the homily.

I was finally grasping the meaning of spiritual communion.

I didn't expect it to be enough, but it was.

To be honest, I'd expected to yearn for the Eucharist with a profound physical hunger.

After all, I'd thought it was exclusively the Eucharist that had kept me Catholic throughout the years of personal doubt and wavering.

When that sense of longing didn't come, it surprised me.

The Prayer of Spiritual Communion, however, has moved me deeply.

I've prayed it intensely: Never permit me to be separated from you.

Although I'm alone, I've felt more connected to God and to the Church than I have in years.

I'm afraid that some misguided homily is going to be the straw that breaks me, the last straw that finally makes me leave this church that I belong to, that I say I love.

Now my local parish offers three weekend Masses.

Now I am vaccinated.

Now the mask mandates are being relaxed as the Covid-19 infection numbers and hospitalizations recede.

We can gather.

From my window, I can hear the bells tolling the start of each Mass.

Every week I plan to go.

Every Sunday I do not go.

Why?

I should be running back to in-person Mass so I can embrace the real presence of the Eucharist.

Here is why: I'm afraid, but not of the virus.

Frankly, I'm afraid of what I will see, of what I will hear when I get there and step inside. Continue reading

• Valerie Schultz is a freelance writer, a columnist for The Bakersfield Californian and the author of Overdue: A Dewey Decimal System of Grace. She and her husband Randy have four children and two grandchildren.

The May 4 survey reflected the views of those aged 21-39 and one of the questions the Truth Data Survey asked was: "What would you like to change at Mass?"

UCANews.com reports the survey was conducted by Radio Veritas and against a background of declining churchgoers among the young professional demographic.

Most respondents said having a good song selection is lacking in many parishes.

"We conducted the survey to know the real needs and potential areas of improvement in celebrating Mass. Many do not go to Mass or abandon religion because they see the Catholic faith as boring," Radio Veritas president Father Anton Pascual said in an interview aired on the station.

"A good choir and song selection are important to many churchgoers, with 24 percent of those surveyed saying that good music is indispensable to worship," Father Pascual said.

They believe that carefully chosen songs would help them connect better, he added.

"Before the pandemic, I went to church every Sunday. I never missed a Sunday even though I really did not enjoy Mass. Music is one way to improve the whole experience and a good sound system will help that," Manila resident Gerald Giuia told UCA News.

"A good choir and song selection are important to many churchgoers, with 24 percent of those surveyed saying that good music is indispensable to worship," Father Pascual said.

"Before the pandemic, I went to church every Sunday. I never missed a Sunday even though I really did not enjoy Mass.

"Music is one way to improve the whole experience," Manila resident Gerald Giuia told UCA News.

Young professional respondents also wanted a good sound system so they could hear and participate better.

The survey was conducted in the Philippines.

Source

• UCANews.com

Although many Catholics seek to use this period as "a time of renewal," as one priest put it, a vocal minority are approaching the pandemic with words more suited to culture warriors than to spiritual warfare.

Any Catholic who has spent time on social media has probably encountered members of the faithful who are deeply suspicious of public health precautions.

They will admit that people who are particularly vulnerable to Covid-19 are worthy of special protection. But they resist as overzealous government intrusion any precaution that might impede upon their personal right to celebrate the sacraments.

This mentality of suspicion leads some Catholics to deride those who observe public health precautions as cowards who have capitulated to a spirit of fear.

To support their uncharitable attacks, they point to Jesus' teaching (as in Mt 16:26) that the soul is more valuable than the body.

Some even go so far as to assert that Catholics who refrain from attending public liturgies out of fear of Covid-19 are lukewarm in their faith.

How, then, to respond to those who claim that Catholics who heed health guidance are giving themselves over to an un-Catholic "slavery...by their fear of death" (Heb 2:15)?

I suggest consulting St. Thomas Aquinas. In his Summa Theologiae, St. Thomas offers profound observations on fear and the virtue that remedies it, fortitude. Some points he makes are especially relevant to today's debates.

There is no sin in fearing the needless loss of one's life or health.

A sin is by definition an unreasonable act. But, Aquinas says, "reason dictates that we should shun the evils that we cannot withstand, and the endurance of which profits us nothing. Hence there is no sin in fearing them."

The answer to fear is not defiance. It is fortitude.

Our fear should lead us to ask God for an increase in the cardinal virtue of fortitude.

But practicing fortitude does not mean tempting God by being reckless. Rather, Aquinas says, fortitude strengthens us by "curbing fear and moderating daring."

The words of the Serenity Prayer offer an example of fortitude in action: "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and wisdom to know the difference." Although the "wisdom to know the difference" comes from the virtue of prudence, which directs the other cardinal virtues, the "serenity to accept the things I cannot change" and "courage to change the things I can" are both aspects of fortitude.

And this brings us to our final point from Aquinas: The principal act of the virtue of fortitude is not aggression. It is endurance.

Sometimes it is necessary to attack our fears head-on. A priest I know faces his fear of Covid-19 so that, taking every reasonable precaution, he may bring the sacraments to patients in hospitals who are dying of the virus.

Aquinas grants there are times when one has no other option than "aggression"—taking bold action against that which causes fear. Even so, he takes care to emphasize that "the principal act of fortitude is endurance, that is to stand immovable in the midst of dangers rather than to attack them."

But St. Thomas does not stop there. Continue reading

Catholic churches used to have a common look and feel, but post-COVID-19, the new normal will likely be less familiar, it may even seem a little strange, warns Wellington priest, Pete Roe.

Roe says he thinks that as parishes plan to reopen, the need to contact trace, keep to 100 person limit on gatherings and be socially distant while inside the church, will make the feel of going to Mass very different.

Some parishes are requiring people to book a seat for Mass.

One of those asking parishioners to book is the Palmerston North city-parish area.

Designed by the Diocese "the online booking system serves a dual purpose; government required contact tracking and a way to manage numbers attending each Mass", says the Palmerston parish priest Fr Joe Grayland.

We also encourage those who do not have internet access or need assistance to phone the parish office.

Roe's parish, St Francis of Assisi Ohariu is also requiring people to book a seat for Mass.

The parish normally offers three Masses on a Sunday, however, in its weekly newsletter, the parish says that with a regular Mass count of 1,000 it will not be possible for all parishioners to get to Mass.

"We don't want people standing around outside in the cold wondering if they are going to get a seat", Roe says.

Post-Covid, the Ohariu parish plans to offer two Masses and continue to promote its Little Churches initiative where a separate Mass is live-streamed and towards the end of Mass Holy Communion is delivered to each of the Little Churches by their Little Church representative who was present at Mass.

Trialled last week for the first time, the feedback was very positive.

Without the Eucharist for eight weeks, parishioners expressed delight at the opportunity to once again receive the Holy Communion, says Roe.

Originally restricted by government regulations to just 10 people at Mass, Little Churches 'maxed out' but now with the new limit of 100, the parish is in a position to expand the number of Little Churches.

St Francis Ohariu is also offering Holy Communion to parishioners who for health or other personal reasons are unable to attend Mass in the Church or join one of the Little Churches.

However, out of concern for the people, Roe, compassionately warns "that even for those who can get to Sunday Mass it is going to look and feel different."

For example.

• People will be spread out around the Church
• People may not be able to sit in their usual seat
• There may be ushers escorting people to their seats
• It will be unlikely that people can sit with their friends
• Health and safety requires no gatherings after Mass
• Throughout Mass, but particularly at Holy Communion, people will need to keep a social distance
• There will be no singing
• People should avoid shaking hands at the sign of peace
• Some people may be wearing masks
• Holy Communion will be distributed in the hand, not on the tongue nor from the chalice
• Holy water is to be removed from the vessels at the church door
• People are asked to keep a social distance entering and leaving the Church.

Roe acknowledges there seems to be a lot of "cant's and not's" in the list but says that it is important to follow the health and safety requirements.

"Throughout the pandemic, the bishops have expressed concern for the safety of people", Roe says.

"Let's also remember the positive, people are able to go to Mass," he said.

In its pastoral letter to Catholics, the New Zealand bishops acknowledge the wonderful work done in parishes during the lockdown and registers their delight with the creative ways parishes have gathered digitally and supported each other.

Larger churches remain shut

Ironically though, with more space to use, it seems the larger venues are the ones who are tested the most.

At Auckland's St Patrick's Cathedral, the only Mass being offered starts on 2 June and is only available on weekdays at 12:15pm. The priests at the Cathedral continue to make the Sacrament of Reconciliation available on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

"We know that this will be a disappointment to all of you but we feel it is unfair at this stage to place a limit on who can and who cannot attend Mass on a Sunday", writes Pa Peter Tipene, Dean of the Cathedral, on the Cathedral's website.

Conscious of the impact of the Cathedral remaining closed, Tipene urges the Cathedral's 3,000 strong regular Mass-goers to not attend Mass at a smaller parish that may be open on Sunday, rather he urges people to continue to watch Mass on Shine TV (Channel 25 or Sky Channel 201), pray at home and listen to Cathedral music via its Spotify page.

In Wellington, the central city church, St Mary of the Angels remains completely closed. Parish Priest, Fr Kevin Mowbray SM wrote recently to parishioners registering his disappointment at the current Level 2 situation.

"The Parish Leadership Team has considered what is necessary for St Mary of the Angels to open for private prayer and the Sacrament of Reconciliation."

"The health and safety requirements required by the Ministry of Health are complex and challenging', says Mowbray.

"Some parishioners would need to be involved in ensuring compliance with cleaning and sanitisation, contact tracing, managing the restriction of no more than 100 people in the building and keeping people at a safe distance from one another."

"This would be a very significant undertaking and is not something that we should ask of parishioners."

"Therefore, St Mary of the Angels must remain closed."

Sources

• Cathedral, St Marys, Our Lady of Lourdes parish
• St Francis of Assisi Parish, Ohairu
• Ministry of Health
• St Patrick's Cathedral Auckland
• St Mary of the Angels Wellington
• Catholic Church NZ Media releases
• Image: Cathedral, St Marys, Our Lady of Lourdes parish

They say the new normal is means the Church's liturgy remains restricted to protect the vulnerable and elderly.

The statement, creatively designed for Pentecost, parallels society's lockdown with the image of the apostles and Mary emerging from their pre-Pentecost "closed room."

The bishops say they share the joy of Catholics all over New Zealand at being able to celebrate Eucharist together, however, warn that at least for a while, the new normal means not everyone will be able to be accommodated at Sunday Mass and that each parish will have to determine how to celebrate Mass and ensure the health guidelines are kept.

They also say that due to the regulations some churches are likely to not reopen immediately.

"We share your joy at being able to celebrate Eucharist together. However, we still have to live under the restrictions that are there for the good of our vulnerable and elderly. Each parish is going to have to determine how it will offer Masses while ensuring health guidelines are kept. This may mean some churches will not open immediately. It may mean that there are more people wanting to attend Mass than can be accommodated" a part of the bishops' statement reads.

In the absence of Mass for over two months, the bishops acknowledge the creativity of New Zealanders.

"We have been delighted by the creative initiatives that have arisen and the way the risen Lord has used these to bestow his graces", they wrote.

However, further acknowledging the new normal will be different, the bishops addressed congregations throughout the country, asking anyone who is vulnerable to the virus, those who are afraid and anyone who is not well to stay at home.

The bishops' pastoral statement, acknowledges those who risked themselves while the rest of the country was locked-down.

"As we emerge from our "closed room" and return to our churches and community engagement we take this opportunity to thank those who protected and supported our sick, vulnerable and, indeed, all of us throughout the lockdown. We thank all those in our faith communities who have worked tirelessly to connect with parishioners offering spiritual support."

The bishops say the dispensation from attendance at Sunday Mass continues.

Sources

• Catholic Media

A protocol allowing Catholic faithful to attend Mass was signed Thursday by Prime Minister Giuseppe Conte; the president of the Italian Bishops' Conference (Cei), Cardinal Gualtiero Bassetti; and the Italian minister of the Interior.

"The protocol is the fruit of a profound collaboration and synergy between the government, the Scientific and Technical Committee and Cei, in which each did his part responsibly," Bassetti said during a news conference after the signing of the document. Read more

The streets were again whitewashed with flashy Sunday best attire.

Inside one church in Apia, there was initial trepidation as parishioners looked around to see who would be the first to observe the two metre social distancing rule, but with more and more arriving it was soon evident this was not going to happen.

The government had banned all gatherings of more than 10 people, including all church gatherings as part of the coronavirus pandemic State of Emergency. Read more

In response, many bishops around the world have taken the difficult but prudent step of dispensing the faithful from their Sunday Mass obligation.

Those decisions are to be commended for the sake of public safety.

Other bishops, however, have gone further.

Some dioceses (including Seattle, Providence and all dioceses in Pennsylvania) have suspended the public celebration of Masses altogether.

If bishops wish to do their utmost to contain the spread of the outbreak, it is my sorrowful conclusion that they must all take this extraordinary step and suspend Masses throughout the United States until the outbreak has been stabilized.

If bishops wish to do their utmost to contain the spread of the outbreak, it is my sorrowful conclusion that they must all take this extraordinary step and suspend Masses.

Please let me be clear: I am not a theologian and do not pretend to possess the competence to make theological claims. I am only a computational biologist alarmed by the spread of the coronavirus.

One week ago I took a leave of absence from my work to volunteer with the New England Complex Systems Institute, which has rapidly assembled a global network of volunteers in science, technology and policy in order to help contain the outbreak.

I am also a catechumen.

But even as one only a few steps down the lifelong path of conversion, I am deeply concerned for the well-being of the Catholic faithful and am cognizant of the church's great potential influence to combat the spread of the infection.

It is my lay understanding that the suspension of public Masses is a measure that bishops may take in the gravest of circumstances.

I simply wish to explain the gravity of the present situation from a scientific point of view and explain how the continued celebration of public Masses makes them even graver.

In recent days, people with ordinary levels of scientific literacy may have heard uncertain and conflicting reports about the scope and gravity of the outbreak.

As a scientist who has been involved in conversations among experts on this issue, I, therefore, wish to first summarize the best understanding of the epidemiological community.

What we know about the virus and outbreak

Covid-19 is the disease caused by SARS-nCoV-2, a novel coronavirus that emerged from Hubei, China, late last year and spread throughout the globe.

As of this writing, there have been over 135,000 confirmed cases worldwide and over 5,000 deaths.

In the United States, the numbers stand at almost 1,700 confirmed cases and at least 41 deaths.

The true number of Covid-19 infections is unknown, due to the difficulties and limited availability of clinical testing.

Several different estimates by different methods all suggest that the true caseload is underestimated by a factor of 10 or 100.

The true number of infections in the United States is therefore now between 17,000 and 170,000.

Covid-19 is not properly comparable to the flu, as is sometimes suggested.

Hospitalization is required in 10 to 20 percent of cases. According to my best estimate (based on current data, calculating deaths as a percentage of confirmed cases), the mortality rate is 3.7 percent (almost 40 times that of the flu), and may rise to as much as 10 percent if hospital treatment is unavailable.

Covid-19 is spreading rapidly in the United States, with the number of confirmed infections doubling approximately every three days.

At current rates, the US will reach hospital capacity in less than three weeks.

Due to the rapid doubling time, every day of inaction at this stage of the outbreak could increase the total toll of the outbreak by roughly 25 percent.

The Covid-19 outbreak can be slowed and stabilized, as China's example shows.

But we must also enact immediate and stringent measures as China did.

Halting the outbreak in Wuhan required radical interventions: quarantining cities, disrupting daily life and restricting the movement of almost 800 million people.

These measures were indeed draconian.

However, because Covid-19 can only be combated by reducing opportunities for transmission, they were also necessary to avoid complete infection of the entire country.

How suspending public Masses can help contain the outbreak

Recently, the bishops of many U.S. dioceses have dispensed the obligation to assist at Mass.

This is an excellent first step and they are to be commended for recognizing the severity of the situation. Continue reading

But not this year.

The media are showing the wrestling tournament taking place in an empty venue. Spectators are banned from the arena.

In various parts of the world, bishops have cancelled Sunday Masses and other gatherings as a preventative measure against the spread of the coronavirus that causes Covid-19, a potentially fatal infection that seems headed to becoming a pandemic.

It is disappointing, but sadly not too surprising, to see how many Catholics are trying to get around that cancellation, intruding into hitherto small-group Masses at convents and religious houses and thereby forcing those communities to either close to outsiders or cancel their own in-house liturgies.

A nursing facility for sick aged sisters where I celebrate a weekly Mass has had to cancel its Sunday liturgies because of the number of outsiders who have tried to come, seeming to think that their being at Mass is more important than protecting the lives of the elderly sisters who are especially at risk if they are exposed to the virus.

I know of a community of male religious in Tokyo who are hosting all comers, reportedly filling their church with people whose own churches are obeying the diocesan cancellation order.

This abets the disobedient, the thoughtless, the selfish and the stupid while endangering society at large. But it presumably fills the coffers of the religious through augmented collections that will probably not be earmarked for epidemic relief.

Those people show no concern for the rationale behind the cessation of large-group Masses nor obedience to leaders of the Church and civil society. They selfishly feel that their private piety is more important than the health and safety and even the lives of their sisters and brothers.

Some have even disputed the authority of their bishops to issue such cancellation orders.

For the record, bishops have that authority, regardless of what people who seem to consider themselves super-Catholics might think.

In fact, given the present state of the epidemic and the uncertainty about its likely course, to not cancel church gatherings would be irresponsible on the part of bishops in affected areas.

Apart from those who consider themselves exempt, we Catholics in virus-affected areas have in effect been forced to give up Mass for a major and not-yet-clear duration during Lent.

The challenge and opportunity for us is to see how this deprivation might deepen our faith, hope and love in preparation for renewing our baptismal commitment at Easter whether we are able to gather then or not.

Of course, the cancellation of parish liturgies does not prevent our using the time we would usually spend taking part in the Mass to read and reflect on the prayers and readings of the day.

We may find, in fact, that we are able to develop better personal "homilies" than those we may endure in normal circumstances.

We can even have a "collection," putting aside money to be later contributed to our parishes because though Masses have been cancelled most major expenses have not been.

Salaries must still be paid, and at least in Tokyo the electric company has shown no indication that it will cancel charges to churches that are not gathering each Sunday.

Our Lenten fasts and sacrifices are meant in part to increase our awareness of the situation of our brothers and sisters who must do without not by choice, nor for a limited time, but because of enduring poverty, famine, oppression or lack of opportunity.

Might not our "fasting" from Sunday Mass give us a closer communion with our sisters and brothers who must do without Eucharistic celebrations for months or even years at a time because there are no priests available to join their gatherings?

Such is the case, for instance, in the Amazon region of South America, and at their recent synod the bishops of Amazonia declared that ordaining married men should be considered as a means of alleviating that enforced "fast" from the Eucharist. Pope Francis is apparently waiting for one or more of those bishops to say he will take that step.

What is true of Amazonia is going to be true of the rest of the Church as well.

The epidemic of priestlessness will spread. In much of the world, most of the leaders of Eucharistic celebrations are white-haired if they have hair.

That is not a good augury for the future.

Perhaps the temporary Eucharistic fast imposed by the coronavirus will give us all a sense of urgency in preparing to head off Eucharistic poverty.

Then, if we — all of us — search out creative answers to the problem, we may find that just as fasting can improve our physical as well as spiritual health, our giving up Mass for Lent will have improved our Church's health.

• Father Bill Grimm is the publisher of UCA News and is based in Tokyo, Japan.

Her hand went to her head, to her chest and completed a toddler's awkward sign of the cross.

My husband and I were horrified by the slobbery dog-water blessing.

But we were also awestruck: We had never seen her cross herself at church before, and we had not yet tried to teach her.

My now 18-month-old comes to Mass with my spouse and me about twice a week, on Sundays and on Thursdays with my school community at work.

Mass has always been part of the rhythm of our life together, and her existence has shifted that rhythm in every way possible.

Nothing about having a kid is easy, and navigating worship and prayer with our daughter has not only been a challenge but has required a real assessment of what our commitment to our faith and the church really means.

On Good Friday last year, my daughter struggled during the evening service, crying more than she ever had in Mass.

I bounced and cooed at her, hoping to avoid any stares or grumbles.

I looked up to see my spouse giving me the very stare I was trying to avoid.

Stunned and angry to feel shamed by my own husband, I booked it to the back of the church to try to soothe her tears on my own.

Pacing at the back of the church with her, livid with my husband, I could not help but keep thinking, "Why did I even bring her?"

Caught up in my own shame and anger, I just wanted to go home.

Navigating worship with our daughter has required a real assessment of what our commitment to our faith and the church really means.

As I tried not to cry, another parishioner went out of their way to come up to me and simply thanked me for bringing her.

That moment of encouragement reminded me that I knew why we brought her.

My husband and I had a quiet moment of reconciliation that night and reaffirmed why our daughter was at Mass that evening and every week.

This was the promise that we made at our wedding and again at her baptism: to bring her up in the faith.

Bringing her every week risks crying or blowout diapers.

But this is also where she will learn the sign of the cross and the creed and what it means to pray and serve in community.

Kids learn through repetition, and they imitate what they can see. My daughter insists on holding a hymnal and "singing" along with everyone else. Continue reading

• Image: Aleteia

The Lutheran Church of Sweden has offered the cathedral as a temporary place of worship to the Catholic parish of St Thomas.

St Thomas's will be closed for major renovation for several months. Read more

Titaenua was hit about 7 am on Idlewild Ave, Mangere, last Thursday.

She died in hospital at 8.30pm on Friday.

Titaenua went to her Catholic church every day. Read more

"

Violent demonstrations and attacks since the end of March have seen 92 people killed and over 1,500 injured.

The new change in Venezuelan people's attitudes began with a Medical Mission Sister. Seeing the need for people to see each other, share their our emotions and console one another", she suggested the people from her parish host an activity to encourage, strengthen, and bring hope to their community.

"We are going to walk with Jesus through the streets. We are going to celebrate Mass where there is only debris, sadness, and death. Our God is the God of life, and the only one that can give us strength in these hard times.

"I proposed instead of having Sunday Mass in the chapel, we have it in the street."

And so began what she says was a "healing public celebration" beginning with 250 people processing to the recently destroyed market at the center of the city. As they set out, a torrent of rain fell - but instead of rescheduling, a woman in the crowd persuaded the organisers to think again.

The rain is "the blessing of God," she said. "He wants to clean us, to purify us; He wants to show us that he is the God of life. Rain is a sign of hope, which fertilizes and prepares the earth."

The rain cleared by the time the procession arrived at the central market, the where nearly 800 people had gathered.

The Medical Mission Sister says the penitential rite was the catalyst that allowed a broken community to heal. It had been organized by young people who "made it so beautiful with drama and music."

"We realized that this penitential act should be a significant one, due to all the sin that we have committed. The saddest part ... has been the fight among the people, neighbor against neighbor....so many wounds...

"The Mass was so beautiful, you had to be there to feel the incredible power of God. … In the end, we saw the fruits of the celebration ... all the community has committed itself to reconstruct what has been destroyed [regardless of politics].

Source

• National Catholic Reporter
• National Catholic Reporter

Faith continually evolves. How we understand aspects of our faith today is different from a year ago or five or ten.

We grow in insight (cf. Dei Verbum, 8) because our faith is alive in us (not sealed in a box); because the Holy Spirit is at work in every generation; and because our human understanding of God is never be complete.

This Lent I experienced one of those new insights: the first reading of the first Sunday of Lent from Genesis (2:7-9; 3:1-7) struck me in a way I had never thought of before.

It's the Garden of Eden story: the devil tempting Eve to eat the forbidden fruit. Usually the story is used to explain the presence of sin in we human beings: Adam and Eve give into temptation, they eat the forbidden fruit and thus we are a fallen people in need of salvation through Jesus.

That interpretation or focus is of course valid. But this year I found myself asking: why did God say that fruit was forbidden? Why did God not say go ahead, help yourself, after all it was a good thing?

If we widen our focus we come to understand that the reason it was forbidden is not about the fruit itself but about the two trees from which it came; they were reserved to God.

God alone could distribute from them. So while the story certainly explains sin, more widely it explains God's desire to be at work, and remain at work, in the garden of our lives.

Some might think that the focus on God's activity, rather than on our sinfulness, is a softer option. But I think that misses the point.

God reserved two trees to himself because Gods' work among us - as distinct from our good works for each other - is essential. Continue reading

• Bishop Charles Drennan is the Bishop of Palmerston North.

As citizens of late modern life, we seek to avoid boredom. We alleviate the stillness of a quiet moment by turning to our smartphones.

We delight in the arrival of new emails, fresh stories and notifications from social media. Abiding in a world in which the "novel" is considered normative, we divinise disruption.

This approach to boredom has a negative effect upon religious practice among Catholics. In Catholicism, our liturgical life is unavoidably a bit boring (at least by the standards of the age).

We pray the same (or similar) Eucharist Prayers from Sunday to Sunday. We hear the same Scriptures from year to year. We sing along to the same hymns and chants. The gift of the liturgy is this same-ness.

Now some liturgical boredom is not praiseworthy. This "bad boredom" is a matter of kitschy art, poor music, bland architecture, flavourless preaching and general apathy that infuses both priest and assembly alike.

Our parishes should shun this bad boredom.

Likewise, bad boredom could simply be the case of an impoverished private prayer life. We may find the Scriptures dry and the Eucharistic Prayer banal, but not because they are.

Rather, we're the problem because we have ceased to savour the narrative of divine love revealed in Christ.

But even if we got rid of all this "bad boredom", we would experience tediousness in our life with Christ. For there is a good boredom that is intended to draw us more deeply into union with the triune God.

This positive sense of boredom is evidence of a desire to enter more deeply into encounter with the Word made flesh. This is the boredom of a restless heart that longs to rest in God alone. Continue reading

• Timothy P O'Malley, PhD, is director of the Notre Dame Center for Liturgy in the McGrath Institute for Church Life. He is also professor of theology at the University of Notre Dame, Indiana.

It is the first time such a Mass has been celebrated.

The Society of Catholic Scientists is a recently formed group of American Catholic scientists as well as undergraduate, graduate or postdoctoral students pursuing research in a natural science.

The society says it exists to "witness to the harmony between the vocation of scientist and the life of faith." Read more