Microsoft Teams is the Devil’s Tool
“This is no way to pray. This is no way to send our loved one off to the Great Beyond. To Heaven? I don’t know. I’m not sure anymore. I’m not even sure I was ever so sure at all.”
Typical Fr. Harrington. Always starting his sermons with a sense of existential dread and confusion. Topped off with a sprinkle of self-doubt. He’s the Woody Allen of Catholicism. He even had a questionable relationship with an ingénue at his old parish in Portland, Maine. That’s how he ended up here. In my church.
By morning, he had decided he needed somewhere nobody cared about theater, someplace where the name Chekhov was more likely to be mistaken for a rifle than a playwright.