Consider the scene. The Bishop has taken his place at the entrance to the sanctuary. He is prepared to confirm some twenty young people. It is a sacred moment; a Sacrament is to be conferred. The parents are in deep prayer thanking the Holy Spirit, who is about to confirm their children for their mission … oops, they’re not!

Actually, they are fumbling with their cell phone cameras. Some are scrambling up the side aisle to “get the shot.” Others are holding their phones up in the air to capture blurry, crooked shots. The tussling continues in the side aisle as parents muscle to get in place for “the shot.” If “the shot” is gotten—success! If not, “Woe is me!” Never mind that a Sacrament has actually been offered and received; the point was “the shot,” the “photo-op.”

Consider another scene. It is First Holy Communion. Again, the children are assembled. This time the parents have been informed that a single parishioner has been engaged to take shots, and are asked if they would they please refrain from amateur photography. This is to little avail. “Who does that deacon think he is telling me to refrain, denying me the shot?” The cell phones still stick up in the air. Even worse, the parish photographer sends quick word via the altar server, “Could Father please slow down a bit in giving the children Communion? It is difficult to get a good shot at the current pace.” After the Mass, the photographer brings two children up with him; could Father perhaps “re-stage” the Communion moment for these two since, in the quick (normal) pace of giving Communion, their shots came out poorly. “You see, the autofocus wasn’t able to keep up. Look how blurry they are, Father.”

It would seem the picture is the point.

I have seen it with tourists as well. I live just up the street from the U.S. Capitol and it is fascinating to watch the tourists go by on the buses. Many of them are so busy taking a picture of the Capitol (a picture they could easily find in a book or on the Internet) that I wonder if they ever see the Capitol with their own eyes.

The picture is the point.

Actually, I would contend that it is NOT the point. Real life and actual experience are the point. Further, in the Liturgy, the worship and praise of God, the experience of His love, and attentiveness to His Word are the point. Cameras, more often than not, cause us to miss the point. We get the shot but miss the experience. Almost a total loss if you ask me.

At weddings in my parish, we speak to the congregation at the start and urge them to put away all cameras. We assure the worried crowd that John and Mary have engaged the services of a capable professional photographer who will be able to record the moment quite well. “What John and Mary could use most from you now are your prayers for them and your expressed gratitude to God, who is the author of this moment.” Yes, we assure them, now is the time for prayer, worship, and joyful awareness of what God is doing.

Most professional photographers are in fact professional and respectful and know how to stay background and not become a part of the ceremony but rather to record it discreetly. It is rare that I have trouble with them. Videographers still have a way to go as a group, but there are many who I would say are indeed professional.

Pastorally it would seem appropriate to accept that photos are important to people and to make reasonable accommodations for them. For major events such as weddings, Confirmations, First Communions, and Easter Vigils, it seems right that we should insist that if photos are desired a professional be hired. This helps keep things discreet and permits family and others to experience the sacred moments more prayerfully. Infant Baptisms are a little more “homespun” and it would seem that the pastor should speak with family members about limiting the number of amateur photographers and be clear about where they should stand.

That said, I have no photos of my own Baptism, First Communion, or Confirmation. And yet somehow, I have managed to survive this (terrible) lack of “the shot” quite well. Frankly, in the days I received these Sacraments, photos of the individual moment were simply not done in the parishes I attended. Some parishes did have provisions for pictures in those days. The photo at the upper right is of Cardinal O’Boyle at St. Cyprian’s in Washington D.C. in 1957. But as for me, though I do have a photo of me when I was on my way to Church for my First Communion, there is no photo of me kneeling at the rail. And I am alive and well. There are surely photos of my ordination. But, I will add, the Basilica and the Archdiocese were very clear as to the parameters. Only two professional photographers were allowed (my uncle was one of them), and the place where they worked was carefully delineated.

Hence pastoral provisions are likely necessary in these “visual times,” to allow some photos. Yet as St. Paul says regarding the Liturgy, But let all things be done decently, and according to order (1 Cor 14:40).

A final reiteration: remember, the photo is not the moment. The moment is the moment, and the experience is the experience. A photo is just a bunch of pixels, lots of 0’s and 1’s recorded by a mindless machine and then printed or displayed by another mindless machine. A picture is no substitute for the actual experience, the actual prayer, the actual worship that can and should take place at every sacred moment and at every sacred liturgy.

If you missed my post from yesterday on the Extraordinary Form of the Mass as a preservative for culture, I would be grateful if you would click over and read it. For some reason readership was very low on the blog yesterday. I also know that Newadvent did not pick it up for some reason. Here is the article: The Extraordinary Form of the Mass and the Evangelization of Culture

Below is some very rare footage from a nuptial mass. It is of my parents’ wedding in May of 1959. What makes it rare is that it is film, not mere pictures, and that it was filmed from the sacristy. My parents told me years ago that they presumed it was filmed by a priest, who alone in those years could get access to the sacristy and other back areas.