Spring brings the budding of flowers and trees; preparing and planting; new life and new growth. For us here in Alaska, we, too, hope for a new Spring-time, but we are covered with layers of snow and ice; and break-up, as they call it up here, has yet to begin.
This does not stop Alaskans from enjoying the great outdoors, in fact this is one of the happiest times of the year, for the days are long and getting longer with sunsets at 9 p.m. and the sunrise at 6 a.m. The midnight sun will soon be upon us and the rivers and streams will be flowing full by June. The bears will be browsing, and the geese, swans and cranes will have returned.
Nevertheless, with all this Easter expectation, the Diocese of Fairbanks, along with the rest of the world, are suffering from the pandemic. I returned March 19 from an excursion to Hawaii to give a retreat to the Carmelite Cloister of the Holy Trinity; and of course, to enjoy the sun and see green again. It was here that the impact of the virus became real as Bishop Larry Silva of Honolulu related to me the sadness of his heart: he came to the conclusion that he had to cancel Masses for the diocese, though I could celebrate private Masses for the nuns.
Returning home to Fairbanks, I was asked to isolate myself for two weeks and Bishop Chad Zielinski, Bishop of Fairbanks, had to cancel Masses too and close the doors of the Catholic Church for the diocese. The parish I am pastor at, Immaculate Conception Catholic Church, is a historic church as it was the first Catholic Church in Fairbanks, built by Father Francis Monroe S. J. in 1904. It has a rich history and is the face of Catholicism for many (https://iccfairbanks.org/church-history). We locked our doors and sadly put up the sign: Closed!
Saddened as our doors closed, the four priests who live here in Fairbanks, and live in the same residence, began discussing at our nightly gatherings for dinner and fellowship how to minister to the faithful.
My parish, Immaculate Conception, runs a soup kitchen mainly on the weekends but throughout the week too. We had to train our staff and implement new protocols to keep the directives and social distancing. Because of our efforts, we still serve some 300 bag lunches weekly, and people have graciously been donating food items and money for our lunch program, helping defray the extra expenditures.
With the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, our chancery chapel has a window facing our cathedral parking lot and so every evening the four priests gather and we have a holy hour with parishioners adoring from the parking lot.
Our outdoor walkways are meditation walks with the Ten Commandments and stations of the cross displays. Last Friday, Bishop Chad led the stations of the cross with one of our seminarians and a priest videoing for the people to livestream. Oddly, it was the bishop who fell at the first station – walking through 3 feet of snow. (Actually, his foot broke through the snow-pack).
Daily, one of us priests celebrates Mass; and with our technology, we have been able to livestream them on Facebook. Palm Sunday and the rest of Holy Week will also be livestreamed as Bishop Chad and the three priests concelebrate the Sacred Liturgies at our Cathedral.
One of our priests has been elected to minister to the hospital as he is a nurse. So far he had to anoint one person dying of Covid-19, though there are others. The chaplain at the hospital who understands the spiritual needs of those suffering keeps us informed and calls us to help those suffering, especially asking for prayers. I and another person pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet for those dying. She, like many medical personnel, needs our prayers as they deal with the difficulties of bringing hope and healing to the patients overcoming their own personal fears of being infected.
On April 4, Saturday afternoon, in the midst of drizzling snow, Bishop Chad led an afternoon reflection with adoration and outdoor confessions, concluding with a Eucharistic procession through the parking lot with Josh our seminarian and two priests. It was moving as people stepped out of their cars and knelt in the snow bowing profusely, some weeping.
The lack of liturgies here in Alaska is not uncommon. With 15 or so priests at any given time and 46 parishes with only nine of them accessible by the road system, the others accessible by plane, boat, four-wheeler, or snow machine, many of the faithful do not regularly have a priest come to celebrate Mass.
Two of my mission parishes in Healy and Nenana normally have deacons or lay eucharistic ministers perform a special liturgical service for those areas without the presence of a priest. When I was serving in Nome, I served seven parishes and traveling around monthly meant I spent very little time at each village celebrating Mass, visiting the sick, baptizing, and hearing confessions.
As we all suffer from this pandemic, whether from the disease itself, the lack of our sacred liturgies, taking care of those who are sick, or having to sacrifice and obey these directives, I offer this quote I found preparing for my homily from Catherine of Sienna who herself dealt with many Church problems and an epidemic herself:
“Start being brave about everything. Drive out darkness and spread light. Don’t look at your weaknesses. Realize instead that in Christ crucified you can do everything.”
Father Thomas Kuffel is a priest of the Diocese of Lincoln. In 2016 he was permitted to serve the Diocese of Fairbanks, Alaska, due to their great need for priests.
