Fr Giltus Matias is stranded in Sydney and because of Covid-19 has not been able to get to New Zealand.

Stuff reports Mathias live-streams a vigil Mass each Saturday evening at 5 pm, while the priest in residence, Fr Jacob Kuman helps during the week.

Addressing the parish on the feast of Corpus Christi, Matias describes his situation in Australia as "extremely difficult".

Matias, on Facebook, tells the parish he has been in Australia for more than a year but is unable to work.

"In Australia, I have been unable to do any pastoral work, which I love doing, because of my Visa status."

Matias laments he is unable to greet people in person but says the prospect of being with the people of the Star of the Sea parish helps him to be joyful, and that when he gets to Blenheim he is keen to listen and learn from parishioners.

He says he will be involved with parish committees over the internet and in touch with parishioners through the parish newsletter. He is inviting parishioners to contact him directly or through the parish office.

Matias left New Zealand five years ago and since has ministered in the United States. He is already known to the people of Marlborough.

Star of the Sea Marlborough is one parish with seven communities covering churches in Kaikoura, Seddon, Blenheim and Picton.

A large geographic parish it stretches from Havelock and Picton in the North West, through Blenheim, the Awatere and on to Kaikoura in the South East.

"It's been good for parishioners to be able to see him through the live-stream," Kuman said.

"It's been a bit of a long wait to get him over, but that's no different to anyone else, we're just hoping and praying that it gets sorted soon," he said.

Indicating that Mass over the internet is less than optimal, Star of the Sea parish council chairman, Greg Stretch said the online live streaming services had gotten more popular during Lockdown.

He told Stuff that because of the 50 person 'Delta Alert Level 2' restriction the Archdiocese of Wellington had decided to cancel all masses.

Stretch said the numbers coming to Sunday Mass would even push the normal Level 2 100 person limit, but a 100 limit gives the parish a few more options.

Sunday Masses remain suspended throughout the country after Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern threw what one bishop described as a "curveball", announcing that indoor events are restricted to 50 people under 'Delta Alert Level 2'.

Wellington Cardinal John Dew told priests and lay pastoral leaders that there will be no public Masses or other liturgical events in the diocese until September 21.

"We do not know how long we will be in Level 2 or whether the increased restrictions in this level might be relaxed a little at a later date while still keeping us in Level 2," wrote Dew.

Sources

• Stuff
• Facebook

"We have discovered with online streaming, live streaming of Masses, that we get enormous congregations sometimes," says Archbishop Malcolm McMahon of Liverpool, the vice-president of the national bishops' conference.

McMahon says that as a result of digital effort during the long COVID lockdown, the bishops plan to increase their digital footprint on the Internet and branch out to other more diverse media platforms.

The 71-year-old Dominican archbishop said participants at the Holy Week services were higher this year than at Liverpool's cathedral due to the live streaming.

Thanking all those who give time to keep churches open and as havens of peace and prayer, the challenge is to bring faith to a "still greater expression and strength", the bishops' say in a statement "The Day of the Lord".

The bishops' say that ‘vibrant' is a word that seems to have characterised so many of the parishes throughout the pandemic and they are keen to build on it.

They are full of praise for families, parish communities and those who have worked to face challenges of "ill-health, grief and isolation".

However, the bishops say the pace of emerging from the pandemic "remains unclear" but they remain focussed on the challenge to bring faith communities and the practice of the faith to a still greater expression and strength.

In terms of moving forward post-Covid, the bishops have identified three groups requiring different mission responses.

• The fearful and weary who are anxious about coming into enclosed spaces and who have lost the habit of coming to church and for whom personal contact and sensitive reassurance is needed.
• Those who have reassessed their life pattern and priorities, and who now have widened the gap between the spiritual quest and a communal expression of that journey. The bishops say this group represents a particular focus for outreach.
• The Covid curious; those who have come into contact with the Church through its presence on the Internet and it is the hope that Church will be able to have a continued presence among them through a range of diverse media platforms.

The last two groups represent different and particular challenges and they say they are looking forward to outreachinh using the strengths of the "veritable treasures" of the Church.

They conclude their statement reflecting on the "rightful" place of the Eucharist as being central to the Christian community calling Sunday 'a weekly gift from God to his people' and the 'soul of the week', and the Eucharist as the food for the unique mission with which all Catholics have been endowed.

Sources

• La-Croix International
• Bishops of England and Wales (PDF)

The same TV that allowed us to join hundreds of millions of others in a collective holding of breath, wondering whether the moral arc of the universe would bend the right way, now dropped us into our own, isolated island of grief to live-stream loss in the time of Covid.

My husband's Uncle Mike died in Sydney, where he'd lived with family for the last 23 years, on Sunday November 1.

My mother-in-law, Karen, was the only New Zealand-based family member who travelled over to be with him in his last days. Mike had Down syndrome and Karen was his legal guardian.

If life doesn't come with a manual, it sure as shit doesn't come with a guide to comforting your husband as he watches his mum sit in a chair, spaced 2m apart from everyone else, attending the funeral of a man who helped shape the person he is today.

There is no WikiHow on what to do when a son can't put his arms around his mother at a time when every fibre in his grieving body is crying out to do just that.

I put my arms around him, honouring the promise I made to Karen on the phone to look after him, but I also know it's the very definition of a consolation prize.

Most cultures have evolved practices that, through the breaking of bread and the sharing of stories, pull us out of our isolation and individual grief and back into the collective experience of farewelling a loved one.

It provides a kind of temporary, full stop to the profound intensity of loss.

The service itself was lovely.

Mike was brought into the chapel to ‘Jailhouse Rock'. The Australian celebrant did an admirable job of pronouncing the Maori words sprinkled throughout the emailed tributes.

Someone did a haka and the service ended with ‘Hine e Hine', gently tethering Mike to his whanau watching in the same way we were, back in Aotearoa.

And then it ended. The room emptied out and our last act in the formal proceedings on our side of the ditch was to yank the HDMI cable out of the laptop.

At every funeral I've ever been to, necessary catharsis is often found in what my Irish-Catholic, rugby-loving family describe as the ‘after match'.

Most cultures have evolved practices that, through the breaking of bread and the sharing of stories, pull us out of our isolation and individual grief and back into the collective experience of farewelling a loved one.

It provides a kind of temporary, full stop to the profound intensity of loss. Irreverence counters reverence, jokes replace solemnity and food nourishes both body and soul.

These communal experiences ground us, reminding us of the legacy of love left behind by the person we have said goodbye to.

They exist not as frivolous excuses for a hooley but as a necessary part of moving us through to the next stage.

We are doing everything we're meant to do as players in this collective nightmare and still, we are doing it alone. Continue reading