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.
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?