The first week my parish reopened, I attended the Saturday Vigil. Normally I sing in the Sunday choir—but alas, singing’s now discouraged. Our music director was at the organ, and he played some pieces that didn’t even tempt us to hum under our breath. Those aerosol droplets that travel up to fourteen feet when singing didn’t stand a chance under these conditions.

I saw the new guidelines in force even before I arrived at the church. An appropriately distanced line formed at the doors. An usher, holding a clipboard, asked each of us if we were feeling well three different ways. I resisted the urge to clear my throat in responding. 

Once inside, I was greeted by a friend stationed at a table. She invited me to purify my hands with the supplied sanitizer. She offered masks to those who hadn’t brought one. Then I was handed off to another usher, who noted I was a “party of one.” He led me to a pew into which I was inserted, like a puzzle piece, into the rightly distanced space.

Our pastor, recently recovered from COVID-19, popped out of the sacristy in a mask. As a chaplain at the local hospital and former patient, he’s sensitive to modeling the right behavior. Contradicting liturgical protocols, my pastor wore his mask throughout the Mass. I won’t tell if you won’t.

Mass began with no procession. No servers or lectors were in the sanctuary. Father handled all the readings. The credence table had been moved to the sanctuary with the offertory gifts—which should not be overly handled at this time. Subtract singing, lector movements, offertory procession, and the collection, and Mass gets slimmer. Fear not about the collection: I failed to mention the ushers received our envelopes in a secure tube before we were seated. 

The dismissal came quickly after the Eucharistic Prayer. Protocols encourage distributing communion after Mass is ended. Those who were not receiving departed with an usher escorting them out, one seating at a time. Those receiving were invited forward by seating, spaced apart. Communion was offered in cupcake papers pre-filled before Mass began, arranged on cookie sheets. A wastebasket ten feet away collected discarded papers.

Outside the church, many parishioners removed their masks and massed near the doors, greeting each other with enthusiasm after so long a separation. All the care that had gone into keeping us distanced and protected inside was undone in the parking lot.

Materials the USCCB recommends for preparing diocesan guidelines:

Road Map to Re-Opening Our Catholic Churches Safely – Ad Hoc Committee of Catholic Doctors (May 2020), 9 pp.

Reopening a parish isn’t as simple as it may seem from the perspective of the pews. It’s more than opening the doors and firing up the organ. Health guidelines were prepared at the request of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB). Liturgical values were established by theologians as well. But the USCCB declined to set a national policy for when and how to reopen, leaving those decisions to regional bishops. Most bishops, in turn, delegated when and how to their trusted pastors. Your question is: why not just create a blueprint for the country or, indeed, for the Catholic world?

Regional distinctions are a huge factor in determining when to reopen. Is the virus controlled in your town and surrounding areas? Mass-goers don’t hail from one place. When a church reopens, Catholics may drive a distance to be there. If numbers are out of control the next town over, opening your church presents a more significant risk.

In addition to infection rates, a pastor must consider his community. One pastor reports how, each month since the pandemic began, parishioners have stomped into the parish office refusing to wear masks or maintain appropriate distancing, demanding that Mass be resumed. The pastor concludes his parishioners aren’t ready to assume responsibility for each other’s safety. Even if most observe the protocols, it would be contrary to the spirit of the Eucharist to forbid or remove others who won’t. Whether he refuses them a seat, or permits them to remain unmasked, it divides and endangers his assembly. 

In addition, the very meaning of a sacrament weighs heavily for some pastors. After reflection and prayer, they conclude that the reopening guidelines compromise the sign value of the very sacraments they seek to make accessible. Taking reservations, discouraging the elderly to attend, or turning people away at the door perplexes them. One pastor noted: “Jesus didn’t say, ‘Take this, some of you, and eat of it.’”  Another decided: “Until we can all assemble, none of us will assemble.” Community is challenged by sitting apart, forbidding touch, and denying any gathering after the service. The spirit of celebration is dampened without singing. Unity is threatened by the specter of fighting over protocols. It diminishes the sacraments to offer an unworthy expression of them, they conclude.

Only when local conditions, parish attitudes, and sacramental viability come together will a pastor be likely to reopen for worship.

Materials the USCCB recommends for preparing diocesan guidelines:

Road Map to Re-Opening Our Catholic Churches Safely – Ad Hoc Committee of Catholic Doctors (May 2020), 9 pp.

COVID-19: Guidelines on Sacraments and Pastoral Care – Working Group on Infectious Diseases Protocols for Sacraments and Pastoral Care, Version 1.2 (May 7, 2020), 24 pp.