Health

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Question for reporters: Global coronavirus pandemic is a BIG story, but exactly how big?

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In my 30-year journalism career, I’ve covered more major news than I can recall.

In most cases, I’ve experienced an adrenaline rush as I set about to do my job, which I consider as much a calling as a profession.

A few times, though, a particular story has felt absolutely overwhelming, like it dwarfed me and my ability to cover it adequately.

The first time came on April 19, 1995, when my colleagues at The Oklahoman and I suddenly found ourselves reporting on what was then the deadliest terrorist attack on U.S. soil — the bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City. In all, 168 of our friends and neighbors died that day.

The second time came six years later on Sept. 11, 2001, when terrorist-piloted planes crashed into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and a field near Shanksville, Pa. The death toll that day: 2,977.

Now, the world finds itself grappling with an invisible killer: COVID-19. As I type this, the global coronavirus pandemic has resulted in more than 10,000 deaths. The number of infections approaches 250,000.

In an interview with Poynter.org, NBC’s Lester Holt — whom I respect — said: “I always thought 9/11 would be the biggest story I would ever cover. But this is the biggest story we have ever seen.”

Wow. That’s an amazing statement from a journalist of Holt’s status.

Is he right? Is this “the biggest story we have ever seen?” I’d humbly suggest that we don’t know yet, as massive and, yes, as absolutely overwhelming as COVID-19 seems at this point.

I asked a few respected colleagues for their insights on that question as well as details on how their news organizations are covering this major, major news.


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Thinking about these times: Reporter asks cloistered nun for tips on healthy 'social distancing'

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There are few things in life that I enjoy more than getting to send out a “Hurrah!” message (that would be “Axios!” in the Orthodox world) to a former journalism student.

So that’s what this weekend’s think piece begins.

Social distancing is, of course, one of the biggest stories in the world, right now.

For some of us, that started almost two weeks ago. For others, the hammer fell this last week. There is going to be another wave of news in one or two weeks if and when we all find out that this New Normal is going to need to last until June or even longer.

So, a former student in the New York City reboot of the journalism program that I was part of for 25 years — the old Washington Journalism Center — came up with a great story idea the other day. Reporter Cassidy Grom served as the channel for a fascinating piece at NJ.com (a page for multiple newspapers) with this headline: “I’m a nun and I’ve been social distancing for 29 years. Here are tips for staying home amid coronavirus fears.”

The voice here is Sister Mary Catherine Perry of the Monastery of Our Lady of the Rosary, a cloistered Dominican sister. She talked to Grom, who put this into an op-ed page feature that, frankly, contains some interesting news-related content. Here is the overture:

For the past 29 years, I’ve chosen to practice social distancing.

Of course, I and the 17 other nuns I live with don’t call it that.

We are formally called cloistered sisters, meaning we never leave our walled-off monastery in Summit except for doctors’ visits or perhaps shopping for a specific item. We don’t go to parties or weddings or out to eat with friends. I often go months without leaving our 8-acre home.

The coronavirus is forcing many people in New Jersey and across the world to stay home, limit outside contact — and in a way, start living life like cloistered nuns.


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This is a story: Aging Catholic clergy risk health to comfort the faithful during COVID-19 crsis

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Catholic priests are often called into action through tough times. Whether they work in a local parish or as a missionary, the main duties of a priest is to administer the church’s seven sacraments — which include baptism, confession and holy communion — while also visiting the sick, overseeing religious education programs and providing pastoral care to parishioners. Many nuns fill social-service roles, as well.

How does all that work during the COVID-19 pandemic? In Italy, where the coronavirus has led to the infection of some 35,000 residents and the deaths of nearly 3,000 people, priests have been among the group hardest hit during this epidemic. Ten priests have already died after contracting COVID-19, more than half of time in the city of Bergamo, just outside Milan. In Bergamo alone, more than 20 priests have been hospitalized, with six of them dead as a result of falling ill. They ranged in age from 59 to 70.

That members of the clergy are suffering in such high numbers isn’t a surprise given the advanced age of so many priests.

This is, after all, an emerging story that is linked to a much older, familiar news story that has been making headlines for several decades — the declining number of young priests in America and many other lands. With fewer young priests, the church depends heavily on the service and skills of aging priests, bishops and nuns.

Here in the United States, where fears about the deadly bug’s spread has grown over the past week, the average age of a priest is 63. The number puts priests in the high-risk bracket for people who can die from contracting COVID-19.

Priestly vocations has been trending downward for years, especially in Europe and the United States. These two places, where the need for clergy to comfort the sick is at its highest while officials call for social distancing, find themselves with no pastoral care. Instead, priests are relegated to streaming services via the Internet as part of social distancing in an effort to stem the outbreak’s growth.

How can priests around the world give pastoral care and comfort to the sick and panic-stricken without putting themselves at risk?


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Holy Week, Easter, Passover, Ramadan are coming: Will they vanish this year? #NoWay

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Holy Week, Easter, Passover, Ramadan are coming: Will they vanish this year? #NoWay

Forget the cancellation of the Easter Egg Roll at the White House.

Right now, many journalists need to focus, instead, on what the coronavirus crisis is about to do the Easter, Passover and Ramadan observances around the world. That’s the story, right now — even if we don’t know the precise details of that story, right now. There are really three options for what is ahead.

First, there is always the chance that something stunning could happen — some major breakthrough in COVID-19 treatments — that would let these tremendously important religious seasons proceed, if not in a normal manner, in a way that is something close to normal. Hardly anyone thinks this is possible.

Second, almost everything could be cancelled and we are left with a few “virtual” events, with religious leaders and skeleton crews doing versions of rites that end up being carried online or in major broadcasts.

But there is another option, one that host Todd Wilken and I discussed at length in this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in). Most of our discussion focused on Holy Week and Easter, since these are the traditions that Wilken (a Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod pastor) and I best understand.

What if religious leaders found some new way to downscale and “re-symbolize” the events of Holy Week in some way that specifically connected their messages to the astonishing times in which we are living right now? It’s also possible — let’s take the Vatican, for example — that testing may take a leap forward and make it possible for congregations (much smaller for sure) of priests and believers to gather who have tested negative or who have never shown any symptoms at all.

What if they took part in rites — perhaps outdoors — in which it was easier to keep people at a distance?

So why am I speculating about this? In part because of of this recent headline on a Crux report: “Vatican backtracks on Holy Week coronavirus statement; situation still ‘being studied’.” Perhaps you missed this development?

ROME — After a Vatican office announced … that all Holy Week liturgies would be livestreamed rather that celebrated publicly amid Italy’s coronavirus crackdown, a day later their communications department walked part of that back, saying the method for celebrating Holy Week is still being studied.


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Atlantic feature on Francis Collins covers lots of COVID-19 territory, but gets the faith angle, too

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One of the most important religion stories in America right now are the tensions inside many religious organizations — usually between high-ranking clergy and laypeople in the pews — over the extreme forms of “social distancing” that are shutting down worship services or, at best, sending them online.

Ironically, these tensions would fade, to some degree, if American Christians were willing to listen to some of the coronavirus lessons learned by believers in other parts of the world, especially Asia. Click here for a recent GetReligion post on that topic.

Like it or not, these arguments are also being shaped by politics, more than theology, as political scientist and mainline Baptist pastor Ryan Burge has been demonstrating in some of his recent work dissecting some older poll information. See the recent post entitled, “Faith in quarantine: Why are some people praying at home while others flock to pews?”

At the same time, the pew-level arguments about COVID-19 and congregational life may contain themes that are common in many arguments about faith and science. One way to address that divide — as Clemente Lisi said the other day — is to focus on people of faith whose work in labs and hospitals is helping shape the global response to this crisis. See his GetReligion post: “The quest for religion and science coverage of COVID-19 — in the same news report.”

If GetReligion readers want a strong summary of some of this material — viewed through the lens of science — they can turn to a strong Peter Wehner feature at (#NoSurprise) The Atlantic. Here’s the double-decker headline:

NIH Director: ‘We’re on an Exponential Curve’

Francis Collins speaks about the coronavirus, his faith, and an unusual friendship.

This long, long interview is worth reading — top to bottom. It’s packed with newsy material and how Collins views what is going on. Note, in particular, the reference to remdesivir and the tests that are underway to see if this drug is as effective as it appears to be in fighting, even curing, COVID-19. Can you think of a bigger potential news story right now than that?


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This big-think story theme befits both the Lenten mood and the COVID-19 crisis 

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The Religion Guy had planned an off-the-news story proposal appropriate for the reflective moods of the Lenten season, Good Friday, Passover and Islam’s holy month of Ramadan that soon follows.

At issue: why do people lack or lose faith?

As it happens, this now fits into the media’s necessary All-COVID-19-All-The-Time mode.

Perspective. The worst-case coronavirus scenarios floated this week are trivial compared with the Black Death in the 14th Century, when sanitation and biological knowledge were primitive. These were mostly cases of bubonic plague with its wretched suffering. The World Health Organization says unstoppable disease killed off some 50 million victims in Europe alone (starting in Italy!) and within just a matter of years. By some accounts, a third of the world population perished, and it took two centuries for numbers to recover.

Unimaginable. The spiritual angst must have been beyond belief, so to speak. Fears that this was somehow divine punishment led to extreme acts of penitence and fear-fed persecution under the Inquisitions.

While people talk about turning to “foxhole faith” in times of trial, the opposite can also occur. Did the plague years underlie in some way the massive attack upon the old church in the 16thCentury Reformation, and then the religious skepticism of Europe’s “Enlightenment”? Does that history tell us religious faith could confront serious challenges following the current, vastly less devastating, outbreak?

A prime thinker to ask is Britain’s Alec Ryrie, a Durham University historian who specializes in that era. His book “Protestants: The Radicals Who Made the Modern World” (Viking, Penguin paperback) was an ornament of the 500th anniversary observance of the Reformation.

Ryrie’s recent “Unbelievers: An Emotional History of Doubt” (Harvard) has direct bearing on our present moment.


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A priest is a priest is a priest: Do editors need to include church labels in headlines?

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If you know anything about how newsrooms work, then you know — as your GetReligionistas often stress — that reporters do not write the headlines that top their stories.

Now, add to that fact another sad reality: Many readers never make it past the headline when they are scanning a newspaper. Then there are readers who struggle to make sense of a story that — in their eyes — seems to clash with the contents of the headline.

All of this underlines the importance of copy-desk pros writing good headlines.

This brings me to a recent story here in East Tennessee that ticked off a GetReligion reader. I mention this topic because the “mistake” made in this case is one that readers ask me about rather frequently. At the heart of this issue is a simple fact: When most Americans (and some journalists fall into this category) see the word “priest,” they automatically assume that this is a reference to a Roman Catholic priest.

In this case, the headline pointed toward events that could have painful and even fatal consequences. Thus, the stakes were high in this particular headline, which stated:

Infected Chattanooga priest may have exposed others to coronavirus, church says

Now, if you read the actual Knoxville News Sentinel story, the confusion was cleared up quickly — by the second paragraph.

A Chattanooga priest who has tested positive for COVID-19, the disease caused by the new coronavirus, may have inadvertently exposed others when he officiated a wedding, served communion and led a staff meeting, his church announced. …

Father Brad Whitaker, rector of St. Paul's Episcopal Church in Chattanooga, fell ill shortly after returning from a conference held by the Consortium of Endowed Episcopal Parishes, the church said in a statement. At least six people who attended the conference, which ran from Feb. 19-22 in Louisville, Kentucky, have since tested positive for COVID-19, according to the consortium.

So the basic question is this: How many people read that headline and assumed this was a Catholic priest?


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Autism and the mysteries of the Mass: Holy Communion is not 'home food'

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Autism and the mysteries of the Mass: Holy Communion is not 'home food'

Ever since the Last Supper, Catholics have pondered what happens during the Mass when they believe the bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Jesus.

"Because Christ our Redeemer said that it was truly his body that he was offering … it has always been the conviction of the Church … that by the consecration of the bread and wine there takes place a change of the whole substance of the bread into the substance of the body of Christ our Lord and of the whole substance of the wine into the substance of his blood," proclaimed the Council of Trent, after the Protestant Reformation.

"This change the holy Catholic Church has fittingly and properly called transubstantiation. The Eucharistic presence of Christ begins at the moment of the consecration and endures as long as the Eucharistic species subsist."

Believers approach this mystery with the greatest care and respect. This may be hard for children to grasp as they prepare for First Communion.

Now imagine trying to teach this core Catholic doctrine to persons -- young and old -- who have mental and physical disabilities that make it hard, or impossible, for them to acknowledge what is happening in the Mass.

"Because we believe Holy Communion is the Body and Blood or our Lord, we want to be very careful about this," said Father Matthew Schneider, who is known to his Twitter followers as @AutisticPriest.

"This isn't a theology test. No one needs a theology degree to take Holy Communion. We simply need to make sure that they know this is an act in a church rite -- that they are not eating ordinary food like at home. We're trying to find out if they have a basic understanding of what's happening."

Under Catholic canon law, children can be given Holy Communion "if they can distinguish the body of Christ from ordinary food and receive communion reverently."


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Faith in quarantine: Why are some people praying at home while others flock to pews?

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To state the matter bluntly, the question of the day is: Who went to church-temple-mosque this past weekend and who did not?

The related question: “Why?” Why did believers make the decisions that they made?

This is one of those cases in which it is impossible to write a story that captures the whole picture, since we are talking about one of the ultimate local, regional, state, national and international stories of our news lifetimes.

Journalists can try to produce a news-you-can-use list that hints at the whole. Check out this Religion News Service feature: “Coronavirus shutdowns disrupt America’s soul, closing houses of worship.” That list of bullets is so limited, because producing a representative national list would be impossible.

Thus, others will focus on the larger story by looking at the symbolic details. With the resources of The New York Times, that looks like this: “A Sunday Without Church: In Crisis, a Nation Asks, ‘What is Community?’ “ This is a fine story, although, yes, its anecdotes and examples seem mainline and limited. But, again, the true picture is too big to capture.

Journalists do what they can do. Here is the thesis statement, in magisterial Times voice, free of attributions:

This week, as the coronavirus has spread, one American ritual after another has vanished. March Madness is gone. No more morning gym workouts or lunches with co-workers. No more visits to grandparents in nursing homes. The Boston Marathon, held through war and weather since 1897, was postponed.

And now it was a Sunday without church. Governors from Kentucky to Maryland to North Carolina moved to shut down services, hoping to slow the disease’s spread. Catholic dioceses stopped public Mass, and some parishes limited attendance at funerals and weddings to immediate family. On Sunday morning the Vatican closed the coming Holy Week services to the public.

The number of Americans who regularly attend a church service has been steadily declining in recent years. Many have left the traditions of their childhood, finding solace and identity in new ways. But for the one in three adults who attend religious services weekly, the cancellations have meant a life rhythm disrupted. And for the broader country, canceled services were another symbol of a lost chance to be still, to breathe and to gather together in one of the oldest ways humans know, just when such things were needed most.

For a similar take from a smaller newsroom, consult this multi-source National Catholic Reporter piece: “Worshippers go online, those at services keep a distance.”

My friend Rod “Benedict Option” Dreher stayed home (as I did) and watched a live stream of the Divine Liturgy from his Orthodox Church in America parish in urban Baton Rouge, La. In other words, one computer screen stands for legions of screens elsewhere. See: “View From Your Pandemic Online Church.”

But I was haunted by one passage in one story — another example of how The Age of Donald Trump has infected everything, when it comes to news. The fact that the story was valid only made it worse.


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