Aug 08

CAMERA USAGE AT LITURGICAL CELEBRATIONS: EXPLORATION OF ECCLESIAL DISCIPLINE, PASTORAL DISCERNMENT, AND MEDIA ETHICS

CAMERA USAGE AT LITURGICAL CELEBRATIONS: EXPLORATION OF ECCLESIAL DISCIPLINE, PASTORAL DISCERNMENT, AND MEDIA ETHICS

Today, with the advent of the cellphone, everyone is a photographer, a videographer, a cameraman, or a camerawoman. And everywhere—from street corners to mountaintops—has become a photo studio or video location. Whether in school, on the farm, in the air, or even at sea, photoshooting is on. This wave has not spared the sacred. The liturgical arena—formerly an inviolable space of silence, reverence, and sacramental encounter—has now become the backdrop of countless digital impressions. Sacramental celebrations, the Mass, para-liturgical devotions, blessings, ordinations, funerals, weddings, and even the all-important moment of consecration are now routinely captured on camera. From the sanctuary to the grotto, from the sacristy to the sacred vestments and vessels, nothing is spared. Often, when concerns are raised, the common retort—sometimes even from clergy or ministers—is that “it’s all about discretion” and that “no law is breached.” While such a response is not entirely false, it is by no means completely true either. There is a critical need to go deeper into the subject to unearth the layers of Church teaching, theology, law, and pastoral praxis that inform and regulate the use of cameras at liturgical celebrations.

The first theological concern lies in understanding the essence of the liturgy. The liturgy is not a social event, a show, or a stage performance. It is the Opus Dei, the work of God, where heaven and earth unite in sacred encounter. The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum Concilium, 1963) of Vatican II describes it as “the summit toward which the activity of the Church is directed and the font from which all her power flows” (SC, 10). Its mystery is not to be dissected by lenses or turned into consumable digital content. The liturgy is meant to be experienced sacramentally and communally—not spectated or viewed voyeuristically. When the camera is inserted without pastoral sensitivity or theological understanding, it risks reducing the sacred to the secular, the mystery to media, the Real Presence to mere spectacle.

The canonical framework reinforces the theological perspective. Canon 1210 of the Codex Iuris Canonici (1983) clearly instructs that “only those things which serve to exercise or promote worship, piety, and religion are to be admitted into a sacred place.” While this does not outrightly forbid the use of cameras, it makes their permissibility conditional. They must serve worship, piety, or religion—not ego, entertainment, or record-keeping for its own sake. Canon 1220 §1 adds that “all those things which do not harmonize with the sacred character of the place are forbidden.” This would include the frequent sight of camera-wielding photographers pacing around the sanctuary during Mass, zooming in on people receiving Communion, or flying drones during weddings and ordinations. No matter how subtly done, such conduct alters the atmosphere and psychology of worship. Sacredness cannot thrive in an environment of spectacle.

A closer examination of Church documents shows that the issue of cameras and media at liturgical celebrations is not an afterthought. As far back as 1958, the Sacred Congregation of Rites issued the Instruction De Musica Sacra et Sacra Liturgia, which, though focused on music, also made passing reference to the need for decorum in churches. The 1984 Instruction on Televised Masses, issued by the Pontifical Commission for Social Communications, is even more direct. It insists that any televised liturgy must “respect the nature of the liturgical action” and avoid turning it into a media event. It notes that the presence of cameras should not distract from participation and that care must be taken not to focus on individual participants in ways that violate their dignity or privacy. The document provides concrete liturgical, theological, and technical norms for broadcasting Mass—norms that are rarely observed at the parish level.

This disregard for protocol is evident in how indiscriminate camera usage has become. In many places, once the procession starts or the bishop steps into the church, phones are out. There is often little to no regulation. Those in choir robes, altar servers, extraordinary ministers, and even religious are found with mobile phones and digital cameras. While some of this arises from good intentions—capturing memories, promoting Church events, or preserving moments—it raises difficult questions about reverence, intention, and attention. What happens to full, conscious, and active participation (actuosa participatio) when one’s eye is on the camera’s viewfinder? Who is being glorified—the Lord or the liturgical subject now posed at center frame? Even among celebrants, the temptation is real. Many have succumbed to what Pope Francis calls “narcissistic clericalism,” where the camera becomes a tool for self-promotion rather than proclamation of the Word.

Pope John Paul II’s apostolic letter Dies Domini (1998) reminds the faithful that Sunday liturgy is not private devotion but the public act of the Church gathered in mystery and mission. He acknowledges the role of media but stresses that virtual attendance cannot substitute real, bodily, ecclesial gathering. His point becomes especially salient today when many prefer livestreamed Masses out of convenience. In Ecclesia de Eucharistia (2003), he insists that “the Church draws her life from the Eucharist” (EE, 1), and this life is necessarily communal. The camera must therefore never become a replacement for presence; it must always serve the community’s journey toward the altar.

The thought of Pope Benedict XVI offers deeper liturgical insights. In Sacramentum Caritatis (2007), he reemphasizes the centrality of the Eucharist and urges that all aspects of liturgy—music, gestures, art, architecture, and yes, media—must direct the faithful toward God, not the self. In The Spirit of the Liturgy, he notes that when worship is horizontalized—when it becomes focused on us and not on God—it loses its essence. The omnipresent camera, when misused, contributes to this horizontalization by inserting a performative layer into a rite that is meant to be contemplative and transcendent.

Cardinal Robert Sarah, in his many addresses as Prefect of the Congregation for Divine Worship, decried the invasion of technology into the silence and solemnity of liturgy. He warned that the sacred is being drowned in noise, and that modern man, obsessed with visibility, forgets that the greatest realities—grace, redemption, the Eucharist—are invisible. In his words, “The liturgy is not a time for experimentation or entertainment. It is a time for adoration.” Cameras, when poorly managed, obscure this adoration. They encourage distraction, self-consciousness, and a loss of inwardness—especially among the faithful who are constantly aware of being watched or recorded.

Nevertheless, a balanced approach is required. The Church is not opposed to the use of media. Inter Mirifica, the Vatican II Decree on the Means of Social Communication, states in paragraph 2 that “the Church welcomes and promotes the media as gifts of God.” But it also cautions that media must serve the truth, uphold moral values, and respect human dignity. This includes liturgical media. The document insists on ecclesial oversight and ethical grounding for all media activities in the Church. Unfortunately, many liturgical celebrations are filmed without episcopal knowledge or any liturgical direction. The result is often a chaotic blend of devotion, distraction, and performance.

From a media ethics standpoint, serious concerns arise. The dignity and privacy of worshippers must be respected. Children, penitents, the sick, “those under anointing or unction”, and the grieving should not be involuntarily exposed to public scrutiny. Beyond media ethics, natural law and pastoral ethics demand that sacred moments not be exploited for social media virality or institutional branding. The Church is not a media house, and her rites are not content to be monetized.

There are, however, noble uses of cameras within the liturgical context. Papal Masses, canonizations, episcopal ordinations, priestly ordinations, religious professions, nuptial and funeral Masses, cathedral dedications, and major diocesan events merit proper documentation. These serve not only memory and catechesis but also missionary outreach. Properly produced liturgical broadcasts can evangelize, educate, and inspire. The Vatican’s own media arm, Vatican Media (formerly CTV), follows rigorous protocols when filming the Pope. Their practice involves fixed cameras, minimal movement, avoidance of close-ups during moments of prayer or Communion, and collaboration with liturgical experts. This demonstrates that liturgy and technology can coexist when guided by wisdom, reverence, and ecclesial discipline. This same approach could be adopted and adapted for diocesan or parish celebrations.

Further solutions lie in regulation and formation. Bishops could enact clear diocesan policies on camera usage during liturgical functions. For instance, in the Diocese of Uromi, photos are never taken on the sanctuary—either during or after the celebration—and each parish has a designated spot for ceremonial group photographs.

Parishes should designate trained and liturgically-aware personnel to handle documentation and maintain a parish social media handle where photographs can be made available to parishioners. The sanctuary must never become a free-for-all. The use of phones during Mass—especially by ministers—should be strongly discouraged. Photographers, even at weddings and ordinations, should remain outside the sanctuary, avoid disrupting processions, and never capture the moment of consecration without ecclesiastical permission and proper theological disposition.

The laity, too, must be educated to understand that not every moment of grace needs to be digitized. Sometimes, reverence is best preserved in silence—not in selfies. Each parish should have a media team, and priests must keep in mind that it constitutes a gross liturgical aberration to assign a parishioner—who has no alternative Mass to attend—the task of recording the priest every Sunday just for social media purposes. The Catholic Church’s position remains: “The substance is to be promoted, not the spectacle.”

The use of cameras at liturgical celebrations is not intrinsically wrong. It can be pastoral, pedagogical, and commemorative. But its legitimacy depends on the depth of theological understanding, canonical obedience, liturgical discipline, and ethical sensitivity with which it is applied. The Church must neither idolize media nor fear it. Rather, she must consecrate it—subject it to the logic of the Cross and the grammar of mystery. The lens must serve the Lamb. The record must never replace the reality. And the liturgy must always remain what it is: heaven on earth—not content for the cloud.
The sanctuary is not a stage. It is the threshold of eternity. Let the camera never forget.

Thanks for reading.

Fr. Dr. Okhueleigbe Osemhantie Amos is a priest of the Catholic Diocese of Uromi and a Lecturer with specialization in Interpretive Journalism and Media Studies at CIWA, Port Harcourt, Nigeria.

About The Author

Rev. Fr. Okhueleigbe Osemhantie Amos (Ph.D, M.Ed, M.Sc. M.Ed., M.Sc.,.PGDe, PGDc, B.Th., B.A. DSW) is a Catholic priest, scholar, Orator and prolific writer from the Diocese of Uromi, Edo State, Nigeria. A Doctor of Philosophy in Interpretive Journalism and Media Studies, Fr. Okhueleigbe lectures at the Catholic Institute of West Africa, Port Harcourt. He is the author of multiple acclaimed books and peer-reviewed articles, with special interests in Interpretive Journalism, Media Studies, Education Management & Administration, Guidance and Counselling, Peace Communication and Applied Communication. He combines priestly ministry with academic excellence and ecclesiastical journalism.