Rev. Mark Murphy, pastor of St. Jude’s Catholic church, says a prayer on the sidewalk nearest the corner of Heritage Specialty Care he believes houses the coronavirus infected residents in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, Thursday. Rev. Murphy began praying outside of the facility five days a week for both the residents and the staff in the facility.

Rev. Mark Murphy prays the rosary while walking around the facility on Thursday. Early on in the coronavirus crisis, Murphy felt drawn to begin praying for the residents and staff. The church is just down the street from the facility and has a number of ties to it, including having parishioners who reside there.

Rev. Mark Murphy prays with Jason Miller of Robins, Iowa, after hearing a confession in his driveway at the St. Jude rectory in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, on Saturday. “It’s not necessarily about being in a church, in the confessional or any of that,” Miller explained, “You are still talking with a man of God who is going to give you the same guidance and encouragement,” he continued. “Even though churches are shut down … to me, they’re essential — having that connection to a church and a priest is essential.”

Rev. Mark Murphy gets his laptop ready to live-stream mass at St. Jude’s Catholic Church in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, on Saturday. St. Jude hasn’t previously relied on recording or streaming mass, so Murphy improvised by placing his laptop on a small table before the altar and connecting his laptop to his phone for internet, since there is no wireless signal in the sanctuary.

Rev. Mark Murphy walks out of the sanctuary back to his office before recording mass at St. Jude’s Catholic Church on Saturday.

Rev. Mark Murphy leads mass as it is live-streamed at St. Jude’s Catholic Church in Cedar Rapids on Saturday.

Rev. Mark Murphy sings to himself during his private morning mass at the St. Jude rectory in Cedar Rapids on Tuesday. Murphy explained that with the lack of a public mass for his congregation, his private masses as home have become even more important in his practices of faith.

Rev. Mark Murphy prepares communion for himself during his private morning mass at the St. Jude rectory in Cedar Rapids on Tuesday.

Rev. Mark Murphy talks with Eva Hutchins, 7, as her older sister, Lizzie, 10, does a cartwheel in the lobby at St. Jude’s Catholic Church in Cedar Rapids on Tuesday. The Hutchins’ five daughters had been homeschooling and had not left the house much since the coronavirus pandemic began. They were especially excited to visit the church, a familiar and happy place for them.

Parishioner Mardean Cook works through a section of pews sanitizing the various surfaces in the church while volunteering after the evening mass at St. Jude’s Catholic Church in Cedar Rapids on Saturday. The church opened up for its first mass since St. Patrick’s Day with a variety of changes and precautions taken to keep parishioners and church staff safe.

Rev. Mark Murphy chats with Tricia Hoffman-Simanek while her kids Thatcher, 9, and Beckett, 7, wait to go back in the church for mass at St. Jude’s Catholic Church in Cedar Rapids on Sunday.

Rev. Mark Murphy begins mass at St. Jude’s Catholic Church in Cedar Rapids on Sunday.

Priest in a pandemic

by Andy Abeyta

On a Saturday evening at the end of May, the Rev. Mark Murphy sat in the front pew of his church after completing the first public Mass since St. Patrick's Day.

It was the first weekend the Archdiocese of Dubuque was allowing its parishes to resume public Mass, after Gov. Kim Reynolds had earlier eased for churches her emergency health restrictions meant to slow the spread of COVID-19.

About 60 parishioners came to St. Jude's Catholic Church in Cedar Rapids that night, a fraction of the regular crowd.

All had gone well as everyone seemed to understand and respect the church's new norms.

Still, Murphy said he felt awkward. Everything was different.

Earlier in his homily, Murphy had described the vision he initially had of his congregation's return to public Mass.

'I thought it would be something like Christmas or Easter,' he explained. 'The place would be packed, the choir would be rockin', we might have a few instruments — there'd be a lot of energy, there'd be great crowd.

'But instead,' Murphy paused, 'we've taped off pews, told people to wear masks. We say 'don't sing,' we say 'don't touch, don't go there,'' he continued. 'Don't even think about coughing.'

Murphy went on to ask his parishioners to think: What could they do in the subdued celebration they found themselves in? What fresh start or change could they bring forward?

Throughout the closure of his church, Murphy and his staff had embodied the latter question in their service to their community.

Among other new practices, masks, service books and meals were delivered; a livestream of his Mass was born; confessions were held outdoors and he prayed for the sick daily at a nearby long-term care facility, Heritage Specialty Care.

As Americans look toward returning into society, faith leaders, too, are discovering a new normal. Many of them, like Murphy, have spent time adapting to serve their own communities.