The entire Catholic community is affected in one way or another by the coronavirus pandemic raging throughout the world. For many, this is a challenge to our faith and our understanding. How can this be happening? Where is God in all of this? How should we respond as people of faith? We offer these reflections to help Catholics think more deeply from a perspective of faith on the events now shaping our lives in big and little ways. We will continue adding reflections over the coming days.
The opinions expressed in personal reflections do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the pastors or staff members of the Catholic parishes in Waterloo or the Archdiocese of Dubuque.
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By Margaret Renkl
Some time in the last two weeks I stopped finding pandemic jokes funny. All I can think about anymore are the thousands of people who have already died, or the millions who have lost their jobs, or the many others who go to work terrified of getting sick. Domestic violence is skyrocketing. The social safety net is in tatters. No matter how funny the joke, it’s hard to laugh at a time of suffering so widespread, of mortality so close at hand.
I fear for my 60-year-old husband, who doesn’t easily shake a cold, and for my 91-year-old father-in-law, our only surviving parent. I fear for my future daughter-in-law, a hospital nurse, and for my three grown sons. The “children” are all young and strong and fit, but there are no guarantees with this virus, so I worry anyway....
Owing to a catastrophic misunderstanding of Apple’s photo taxonomy, I recently managed to delete all 15,000 photos in my iCloud account, including pictures of every family gathering of the past 10 years. I’ve recovered them since, but while I was still on hold with Apple’s helpline, I felt something in me shift. “I guess I can stop fretting about when I’ll have ever have time to sort through all those pictures,” I thought. As long as my people are safe, I could let the photos go.
I first experienced that feeling of release 17 years ago, in the months after my father died… I remember asking a friend who had lost a child how long that sense of perspective lasts after a tragedy. How soon before I would go back to being irritated by small matters, back to forgetting that every single day is a life-or-death proposition?I first experienced that feeling of release 17 years ago, in the months after my father died… I remember asking a friend who had lost a child how long that sense of perspective lasts after a tragedy. How soon before I would go back to being irritated by small matters, back to forgetting that every single day is a life-or-death proposition?
“Too soon,” he said.
Maybe it will be different this time. Suffering has been unevenly distributed during this crisis, but the collective nature of this terror might mean that we will remember together what we move on from too quickly alone. Perhaps we’ll finally take in what we know but nevertheless manage to put out of our minds: that life is precious and finite, that we cannot know when the end is coming, that what is beautiful and just and true deserves our focus far more than what’s annoying or inconvenient….
John Prine died on the night of a supermoon. As soon as I heard the news of his death, I went outside to look. I don’t know why I thought I might find comfort in a cold rock hanging in a dark sky. Something about its immutability despite the semblance of constant change? Or the way it lights our way though it has no light of its own to give? I couldn’t say.
I hope that bright, bright moon is what I remember of this hard time. Not the jokes and surely not the fear. Just that bright moon, and John Prine, and gratitude for the chance to love everyone I love again tomorrow.
Margaret Renkl is a contributing opinion writer who covers flora, fauna, politics and culture in the American South for The New York Times. Her thoughts appeared there on April 13, 2020 and are available online here.
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By Emily Esfahani Smith
The coronavirus pandemic has not just threatened the physical health of millions but also wreaked havoc on the emotional and mental well-being of people around the world. Feelings of anxiety, helplessness and grief are rising as people face an increasingly uncertain future — and nearly everyone has been touched by loss…. Which raises a question: Is there anything people can do to cope with the emotional fallout of this confusing and challenging time?
When researchers and clinicians look at who copes well in crisis and even grows through it, it’s not those who focus on pursuing happiness to feel better; it’s those who cultivate an attitude of tragic optimism. The term was coined by Viktor Frankl, the Holocaust survivor and psychiatrist from Vienna. Tragic optimism is the ability to maintain hope and find meaning in life despite its inescapable pain, loss and suffering.
But even more than helping them cope, adopting the spirit of tragic optimism enables people to actually grow through adversity.
For a long time, many psychologists embraced a victim narrative about trauma, believing that severe stress causes long-lasting and perhaps irreparable damage to one’s psyche and health…. Yet psychologists now know that on average, anywhere from one half to two-thirds of trauma survivors exhibit what’s known as post-traumatic growth. After a crisis, most people acquire a newfound sense of purpose, develop deeper relationships, have a greater appreciation of life and report other benefits.
It’s not the adversity itself that leads to growth. It’s how people respond to it. …[T]he people who grow after a crisis spend a lot of time trying to make sense of what happened and understanding how it changed them. In other words, they search for and find positive meaning. In modern psychology research, this is known, a bit unfortunately, as “benefit finding.” Mr. Frankl called it “the human capacity to creatively turn life’s negative aspects into something positive or constructive.” …
When people search for meaning…they often do not feel happy. The things that make our lives meaningful, like volunteering or working, are stressful and require effort. But months later, the meaning seekers not only reported fewer negative moods but also felt more “enriched,” “inspired” and “part of something greater than myself.”...
Though it has been only a few weeks since the pandemic started affecting life in the United States, I see people embracing meaning during this crisis. …[P]eople are organizing “help groups” to run errands for immuno-compromised people. They are rallying around struggling small businesses with “virtual tip jars.” Many companies and businesses, nationally and locally, are offering their services free. I’ve noticed people also say they are experiencing deeper connections to others — and feel more grateful to the caregivers, teachers, service workers and health care professionals among us. This certainly won’t be remembered as a happy period in the history of the world, but it may be remembered as a time of redemptive meaning and hope.
Does any of this mean the pandemic is a good thing? Of course not. It would be far better had the pandemic never occurred. But that’s not the world we live in…. As much as we might wish, none of us can avoid suffering. That’s why it’s important to learn to suffer well.
Emily Esfahani Smith is the author of The Power of Meaning: Finding Fulfillment in a World Obsessed With Happiness.” Her comments appeared in The New York Times on April 7, 2020, and are available online here.
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By Pope Francis
In today’s Gospel, Jesus says one thing from the Cross, one thing alone: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mt 27:46). These are powerful words. Jesus had suffered the abandonment of his own, who had fled. But the Father remained for him. Now, in the abyss of solitude, for the first time he calls him by the generic name “God”. And “in a loud voice” he asks the most excruciating question “Why?”: “Why did you too abandon me?”. These words are in fact those of a Psalm (cf. 22:2); they tell us that Jesus also brought the experience of extreme desolation to his prayer. But the fact remains that he himself experienced that desolation: he experienced the utmost abandonment, which the Gospels testify to by quoting his very words: Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?
Why did all this take place? Once again, it was done for our sake, to serve us. So that when we have our back to the wall, when we find ourselves at a dead end, with no light and no way of escape, when it seems that God himself is not responding, we should remember that we are not alone. Jesus experienced total abandonment in a situation he had never before experienced in order to be one with us in everything. He did it for me, for you, to say to us: “Do not be afraid, you are not alone. I experienced all your desolation in order to be ever close to you”. That is the extent to which Jesus served us: he descended into the abyss of our most bitter sufferings, culminating in betrayal and abandonment. Today, in the tragedy of a pandemic, in the face of the many false securities that have now crumbled, in the face of so many hopes betrayed, in the sense of abandonment that weighs upon our hearts, Jesus says to each one of us: “Courage, open your heart to my love. You will feel the consolation of God who sustains you”.
Dear brothers and sisters, what can we do in comparison with God, who served us even to the point of being betrayed and abandoned? We can refuse to betray him for whom we were created, and not abandon what really matters in our lives. We were put in this world to love him and our neighbours. Everything else passes away, only this remains. The tragedy we are experiencing summons us to take seriously the things that are serious, and not to be caught up in those that matter less; to rediscover that life is of no use if not used to serve others. For life is measured by love. So, in these holy days, in our homes, let us stand before the Crucified One, the fullest measure of God’s love for us, and before the God who serves us to the point of giving his life, and let us ask for the grace to live in order to serve. May we reach out to those who are suffering and those most in need. May we not be concerned about what we lack, but what good we can do for others.
...The Father, who sustained Jesus in his Passion also supports us in our efforts to serve. Loving, praying, forgiving, caring for others, in the family and in society: all this can certainly be difficult. It can feel like a via crucis. But the path of service is the victorious and lifegiving path by which we were saved.
Excerpted from Pope Francis' homily for Palm Sunday, April 5, 2020. The text of the homily is available online here.
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By Damian Torres-Botello SJ
Dear One,
Thank You for this day. For waking me up. For inviting me to move about as I have thus far. For the way you help me carry on. For the hope of more life to experience tomorrow. You are always generous and loving, and so I offer up my abilities and my shortcomings.
Again, I say thank You. For my successes and failures, thank You. For my wisdom and ignorance, thank You. These all have brought me to You today. I ask, please – listen to my heart, read my soul. For my words fall short, and yet I will try.
I hear news from colleagues, neighbors, friends, and family of their struggle, their sickness, their need for life sustaining resources. I notice parents and teachers and students adjusting to new ways of learning. I witness leaders struggling to comfort their people, to inform them and offer reassurance that all will be well. I recognize that those who have always been in need are now joined by new faces in financial struggle. The ill are united with the newly diagnosed. The table of the hungry is expanding to include more stomachs.
What are You inviting me to discover at this moment? Help me find the good and grace when I’m struggling to understand what is unfolding around me. Help me locate You more clearly Lord, so that my eyes may find You in the fog of this crisis.
I know that from struggle will come new life, because I believe the resurrection is always the new beginning after any heavy cross. And it is with this cross that I come to the altar where Your arms are open wide. I bow down low before You, Lord of Hosts. I come to your altar, Dear One, knowing I’m forgiven and loved.
I bring my sorrows and concerns to exchange them for hope and faith. I sing alleluia, because You will rise, You are risen, and so too will we all be on the other side of all this. For what I need now is patience and trust, strength and courage, a peaceful heart and calm mind to carry me through this time in my life. Amen.
Our Father, who art in heaven…
St. Ignatius of Loyola. Pray for us.
Mary, Queen of Peace. Pray for us.
Live Jesus in our hearts. Forever.
Damian Torres-Botello is a Jesuit who is currently Outreach and Audience Development Coordinator for the University of Detroit Mercy Theatre Company. His prayer was published by The Jesuit Post on April 1, 2920 and is available here.
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By Marina McCoy
1. Pray. God is listening. I firmly believe that God is with us, as close as we are to ourselves, and even closer. When I pray, I wait for God to reply, not always knowing how God will reply, but trusting that God will. When I pray for others, such as my mother who lives in another state, I know that they are with me in the time of prayer, as much as if they were in the same room. In God’s presence, we are all united.
2. Stay connected. I was recently in a self-quarantine for 14 days after my husband fell ill with flu-like symptoms after we returned from Europe. (We are all healthy now.) I found that staying connected through video programs like Zoom, Skype, or Google Meet, or texting or phone calls, were all great ways to stay in relationship with others beyond my quarantine. Human beings are social and need connection.
3. Reach out. Not ill or self-quarantined? See what the neighbors need. We can still practice social distancing by starting a group chat with the people on our block. When I could not go out, a friend of mine dropped some flowers and a bottle of wine at our house. Social distancing does not mean the end of service.
4. Be grateful. There is always something for which to be grateful. Always. As I write this, both of my adult children are home with us, and healthy. I am grateful for the shared conversation, the shared meals, and for everyone’s health. Gratitude gives us perspective.
5. Slow down. I have often wished I had more time for contemplation. Be careful what I wish for! In all seriousness, however, more time to contemplate and watch the sun rise or look at a beautiful tree through my backyard window brings me a sense of peace. Baking bread takes more time than buying it but helps me to stay in the moment while also nurturing others. Perhaps slowing down is a hidden gift.
6. Engage in meaningful work. Monks have always known this: we need a balance of work, prayer, and leisure in life. I am a teacher so have been putting energy into teaching my university students through remote platforms, holding office hours, and finding creative new ways to help my students to grow and learn. Even for those who are retired or otherwise not employed, tasks like baking, minor household projects that have been put off, or organizing photos into albums can be meaningful work.
7. Love. Love is contagious. Love, St. Ignatius says, is shown in deeds, not only in words. But it also helps to tell the people whom we love, that we love them. How do you want to share love today?
Marina McCoy is a wife, mohter and an associate professor of philosophy at Boston College, where she teaches philosophy. She contributes regularly to the Ignatian Spirituality blog where this article appeared here.
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By A Network for Grateful Living
In the midst of times of uncertainty it serves us to reflect on how gratefulness might help to calm us, reduce fears and expectations, open us to greater clarity and love, and fuel action grounded in our deep intentions. Gratitude is not a panacea. It may not cure or solve our anxiety or concerns but it can foster ease, connection, kindness, and well-being.... Gratitude cannot save us from sickness or suffering, but it can change how we experience sickness, and it may change our relationship to suffering.
So, what might this mean with regard to how we respond to the immediate concerns of COVID-19?... Here are some possibilities:
• Reflect on Goodness — Reflect with gratitude on the sacrifices of front-line workers and all those who are self-quarantining; adjusting habits and lives; working overtime to do research, make tests and vaccines, and provide important, accurate and timely information. Notice the many ways you can orient your attention to all the ways that people are caring for fellow human beings around the globe.
• Wash your Hands — The 20 seconds recommended to “lather up” offer us an opportunity to slow down to experience gratitude for the gift of hot and cold running water, the miracle of soap, and the wonder of our hands themselves. Consider making a sacred ritual of washing your hands, welcoming the opportunity to meditate on these blessings.
• Stay Connected — If steering clear of events or planned events are being canceled, might this be an opportunity to connect by phone, text or email with family, friends, and neighbors to see how they’re doing? How does it feel to reflect with gratitude on the relationships in our lives and let people know we care about them? Keep in touch and offer connection in all the ways that you can.
• Be Generous — Extend compassion to those whose lives are impacted most by this crisis. Recognize that people’s health and livelihoods are in jeopardy and nervous systems are taxed. Try being more patient, kinder, take a deep breath before responding, offer smiles and gratitude freely. Give to organizations whose operations and fundraising efforts are being impacted but whose services will be needed more than ever. Support local businesses struggling as many of us stay home. Consider making a donation in someone’s honor or buying a gift certificate.
• See the Privileges of the Ordinary — In the midst of a focus on how much is being lost, keep noticing all the blessings that remain. Allow yourself to appreciate and be in awe of what is available to you: phones, electricity, showers, the beauty and resilience of the natural world, all the parts of your body that work, the services and systems that serve your ability to function, and so much more.
• Commit to that which Sustains You — Allow yourself to stay grounded in the things that preserve your integrity and reinforce the beliefs that help you have faith and hope in difficult times. Maintain or increase the rituals, traditions, reminders, and practices that help you to find calm in the midst of any storm. Read, write, or share poetry. Treat yourself and/or others to A Grateful Day.
A Network for Grateful Living is a global organization founded by Brother David Steindl-Rast OSB. It offers online and community-based educational programs and practices which inspire and guide a commitment to grateful living. This article appeared on its blog and is available here.
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By Pope Francis
In his prayer and blessing "Urbi et Orbi" on March 27, Pope Francis recalled the occasion in Mark’s Gospel when the disciples awaken Jesus during a storm at sea and beg him to calm the storm (cf. Mark 4. 31-35)
“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” Lord,...In this world, that you love more than we do, we have gone ahead at breakneck speed, feeling powerful and able to do anything. Greedy for profit, we let ourselves get caught up in things, and lured away by haste. We did not stop at your reproach to us, we were not shaken awake by wars or injustice across the world, nor did we listen to the cry of the poor or of our ailing planet. We carried on regardless, thinking we would stay healthy in a world that was sick. Now that we are in a stormy sea, we implore you: “Wake up, Lord!”.
“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” Lord, you are calling to us, calling us to faith. Which is not so much believing that you exist, but coming to you and trusting in you…. You are calling on us to seize this time of trial as a time of choosing...a time to choose [between] what matters and what passes away, a time to separate what is necessary from what is not….
We can look to so many exemplary companions for the journey, who, even though fearful, have reacted by giving their lives.... How many people every day are exercising patience and offering hope, taking care to sow not panic but a shared responsibility. How many fathers, mothers, grandparents and teachers are showing our children, in small everyday gestures, how to face and navigate a crisis by adjusting their routines, lifting their gaze and fostering prayer. How many are praying, offering and interceding for the good of all....
“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith”? Faith begins when we realize we are in need of salvation.... Let us invite Jesus into the boats of our lives. Let us hand over our fears to him so that he can conquer them….
The Lord asks us and, in the midst of our tempest, invites us to reawaken and put into practice that solidarity and hope capable of giving strength, support and meaning to these hours when everything seems to be floundering....
We have an anchor: by his cross we have been saved. We have a rudder: by his cross we have been redeemed. We have a hope: by his cross we have been healed and embraced so that nothing and no one can separate us from his redeeming love. In the midst of isolation when we are suffering from...the loss of so many things, let us once again listen to the proclamation that saves us: he is risen and is living by our side….
Embracing his cross means finding the courage to embrace all the hardships of the present time, abandoning for a moment our eagerness for power and possessions in order to make room for the creativity that only the Spirit is capable of inspiring. It means finding the courage to create spaces where everyone can recognize that they are called, and to allow new forms of hospitality, fraternity and solidarity….
“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith”? Dear brothers and sisters,…I would like this evening to entrust all of you to the Lord, through the intercession of Mary.... May God’s blessing come down upon you as a consoling embrace:
Lord, may you bless the world, give health to our bodies and comfort our hearts. You ask us not
to be afraid. Yet our faith is weak and we are fearful. But you, Lord, will not leave us at the mercy
of the storm. Tell us again: “Do not be afraid” (Mt 28:5). And we, together with Peter, “cast all our
anxieties onto you, for you care about us” (cf. 1 Pet 5:7).
The full text of the pope's March 27 "Urbi et Orbi" blessing are available online here.
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"Finding God in the midst of fear"By Rabbi Brad Hirschfield
As a matter of history, telephones became popular, and people said ‘Maybe for business, but we’ll never really be able to talk about deeply meaningful spiritual things on here.’ And before that there was a printing press, people said, ‘You know, books are fine, but if you really want wisdom and spiritual edification, you have to sit at a mentor’s feet.’ So we’ve been here before and it doesn’t mean it’s easy, but it means we have reason, not only faith, but reason to believe we can help ourselves and each other through this if we will simply enter it as fully as we can with as much compassion and care as we can. And over time what felt strange originally will become normal. The truth is every tradition we have started out as an innovation....
Practicing compassion turns out to be one of the most self-caring, healing things we can do for ourselves … I know firsthand when I began to discover this 16 years ago when I had a lung tumor. I admit, I was scared. You never want to hear a doctor say you have a lung tumor … I go to the hospital to get tested, and they have to put tubes down into your lungs. I was scared. My blood pressure was through the roof. I’m literally silently saying Psalms to myself to try and calm myself down. It’s not working. I really was not in a good place. The nurse was standing in front of me, and I noticed that the nurse was wearing a small cross … I said to her, ‘I don’t care what the faith is, it’s actually really comforting to see you wear that. And it happens to be a really beautiful cross.’
She got very quiet and her eyes got very big and she said, ‘Thank you for noticing. I didn’t always wear it.’ I asked her why she started wearing it and she explained that she started wearing it when her son was shipped out to Iraq. I said, “Wow, I can only imagine how challenging that must be for you as a mom.’ She started to cry, and I said, ‘But I also know that faith does things for us and to us that we have no right to expect and could never imagine will happen. But they’re so real. And the only thing I would ask you is would you tell me your son’s name and would it be okay if a rabbi prayed for a nice young Catholic marine?
The doctor interrupted the conversation, saying 'I don’t know exactly what you two are talking about because I’m trying to get set up for this test, but whatever it is, keep doing it because your blood pressure has dropped by 30 points. Your pulse has slowed down, your body is relaxing, and it’s going to make this whole thing a whole lot easier.' The truth is, the moment I began to care about her, my nurse, I began to get healthy. Caring for others helps us to escape our own fear.
Brad Hirschfield is a rabbi, author, and president of the National Jewish Center for Learning and Leadership. His comments are excerpted from an interview with Fr. Dave Dwyer on the BustedHalo radio show, March 25, 2020, and are available here.
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"You can waste this period of social-distancing or make it the best that it can be."By Sr. Mary Catharine Perry
For the past 29 years, I’ve chosen to practice social distancing. Of course, I and the 17 other nuns I live with don’t call it that.
We are formally called cloistered sisters, meaning we never leave our walled-off monastery except for doctors’ visits or perhaps shopping for a specific item. We don’t go to parties or weddings or out to eat with friends. I often go months without leaving our 8-acre home.
As someone who has lived a life of separation, I’d like to share from my experience how you can make the best of it.
First, you need to establish structure.
Your normal day-to-day lives have structure imposed on them from the outside....Now that you are stuck at home, create a schedule for yourself and your family. At the monastery, we wake up at the same time every day and get fully dressed (no pajamas). We have planned time for prayer, worship, work, eating and fun. Our days usually have a peaceful rhythm. This might take some experimentation; each household is different and for many, it might be the first time they spend an extended period of time with roommates or family.
Second, be intentional and love others.
It is easy to get caught up in making sure you and your loved ones are safe and your needs are met.... However, we should fight against self-centered urges.... Give the gift of your time. Cook meals with your family and play games. Don’t hide from roommates under the guise of needing to work; get to know them and learn to enjoy their company. At the monastery, the prayer bell rings and it forces me to stop working and to focus on why I’m really here. It reminds me to leave the project at hand (whether that is making candles or soap, operating our gift shop, gardening or working in the kitchen), and join my sisters. The projects that I am working on aren’t bad; they are good, but sometimes I can allow myself to be too busy.
Third, use this time for self-reflection and relaxation.
...These weeks are your opportunity for a more quiet, simple life. Every day after lunch, my sisters and I take a 90-minute break of “profound silence.” We don’t move around the building or talk. We stay still. We read, pray or reflect. Sometimes, we will do a hobby quietly. Sometimes, we nap. People say they want peace and quiet [but] when it is thrown in their lap, they panic. They don’t know how to be alone. They are afraid to confront their “shadow side,” the hard truths about themselves that they don’t like. They fill their lives with noise to run away from their emotions. Life isn’t meant to be rushed. Use this time to get to know yourself. Stop. Be still. You can either waste this period of social-distancing and be frustrated, or you can choose to make it the best it can be.
Sister Mary Catharine Perry has been a cloistered nun with the Dominican nuns in Summit, New Jersey for 29 years. Her comments were posted by NJ.com on March 15, 2020, and are available online here.
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By Archbishop Mark Coleridge
There is a serious risk that this virus could divide our community rather than bring us together. The virus of fear is worse than COVID-19. The fear is understandable. We’re facing a pandemic we don’t fully understand and we can’t predict where the danger lies. It’s everywhere but we don’t know where. Nor do we know how long it will last. We may be in for the long haul.
We can be tempted to lash out at others, blaming others for infections. We can hoard groceries, looking after our own interests without consideration for others. We can distance ourselves from people, not just physically as a sensible precaution but also emotionally. Our locked doors can become closed hearts. There’s nothing human about that; and it will do nothing to contain the threat....
There’s a risk that social distancing will mean that vulnerable people are isolated and unsupported. People who live alone, who may be old or infirm and who don’t have family or friends nearby are very much at risk. Precautions like two weeks of isolation will put a strain on anyone, but especially on those who don’t have a regular income, sick leave or a solid social network….
The tendency to shun people who are sick was something Jesus knew well. The Gospel calls us to welcome people, whether foreigners or local, in need of food, clothing or shelter. It urges us to reach out to people who are sick.
To meet these challenges and to calm our anxiety it’s important to think ahead…. Talk with your neighbors about practical things — like checking on one another or asking who will go to the shops to get supplies.... Do the things that give you a sense of calm. If you’re a person of faith, pray to the God of hope, trusting in his care. You will know what helps you. Whether or not you’re a person of faith, simple things like a reassuring smile, a kind word or a touch of humor can make a difference to people who may be struggling in ways that aren’t obvious....
The coronavirus is…testing the human family world-wide. If we can discover our shared humanity more deeply through it all and create new forms of solidarity, then we’ll come out the other side of this ordeal as better people and stronger communities.
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By Dr. Edward Sri
On that first Sunday morning without Mass…our family assembled in the living room to watch on Facebook Live our parish priest celebrating Mass…. When the Mass began, we made the sign of the cross with our pastor. We sat, stood and knelt just as we would have if we were there at the parish with him. We recited all the prayers and responded with the expected “Amen,” “And with Your Spirit” and “Thanks be to God.” All things considered, the kids behaved decently well….
A profound thought hit me at the moment of consecration. A lot of people have been talking about making a “Spiritual Communion” when you can’t go to Mass. This is the traditional practice of expressing one’s desire to be united with Jesus in Holy Communion when that is not possible.... But at the words of consecration, I found myself making what perhaps could be called a “Spiritual Sacrifice.” I was expressing in my heart my desire to still unite my life with the sacrifice of Christ which is made present at every Mass.
This is a basic truth about the Eucharist. When participating in the Eucharistic Liturgy, we are called to unite all our works, joys and sufferings — our entire lives — in union with Christ’s offering of himself to the Father (CCC 1368). We offer ourselves in union with Christ’s total, perfect sacrificial gift of love to the Father. And we desire for Jesus to change our hearts and live his sacrificial love ever more through us. That’s what we should be doing every time we participate in the Mass.
...[O]n this Sunday, I was actually not participating in a Mass. I was just watching a private Mass on a screen. But I still found myself wanting to unite my heart as much as I could with the sacrifice of the Mass at this most sacred moment in the liturgy: “This is my body … This is my blood.” I felt like Daniel, physically separated from the Temple and its liturgies, but trying his best to pray to God in the spirit and rhythm of the liturgy. Even though I was miles away from our parish and not able to participate in the Mass itself, my heart still had some spiritual connection to what was happening, right at that moment, at that same hour of prayer, that same hour of sacrifice.
No one knows for sure when public Masses will resume. But in the meantime, we…should try to make the best of a very difficult situation. We offer our sorrows over not being able to receive Our Lord in these days. We can offer them for all those who are battling COVID-19 and the countless people whose social, economic and spiritual lives are impacted by the dramatic events of the last week. And we trust that God sees our hearts, which long for him, perhaps more than ever before. Whatever trials we may be facing in these days, God can always bring some good out of them.
Dr. Edward Sri is a theologian, author, FOCUS Vice President of Formation and host of the All Things Catholic podcast. His comments were published by the National Catholic Register on March 18, 2020, and are available online here.
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By Fr. Daniel Horan OFM
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By Daniel Amiri
By Fr. Richard Rohr OFM
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By Pope Francis
How can one live these days so that they are not wasted?
“We must rediscover the concreteness of little things, small gestures of attention we can offer those close to us, our family, our friends. We must understand that in small things lies our treasure. These gestures of tenderness, affection, compassion, are minimal and tend to be lost in the anonymity of everyday life, but they are nonetheless decisive, important. For example, a hot meal, a caress, a hug, a phone call... They are familiar gestures of attention to the details of everyday life that make life meaningful and that create communion and communication amongst us….
Isn’t it how we always live?
Sometimes, we only experience a virtual form of communication with one another. Instead, we should discover a new closeness. More concrete relationships made of attention and patience. In their homes, families often eat together in great silence…. They look like monks, all isolated from each other. Here there is no communication, whereas listening to each other is important…. This language made of concrete gestures must be safeguarded. In my opinion, the pain of these days should open us up to this concreteness”.
Many people have lost loved ones, many others are fighting on the front line to save lives. What can you say to them?
“I thank those who give themselves in this way to others. They are an example of this concreteness. And I ask everyone to stay close to those who have lost loved ones, to be close to them in every possible way. Consolation must now be everyone’s commitment….
How can those who do not have faith have hope in days like these?
“They are all God's children and are looked upon by Him. Even those who have not yet met God, those who do not have the gift of faith, can find their way through this, in the good things they believe in: they can find strength in love for their children, for their family, for their brothers and sisters. One can say: ‘I cannot pray because I do not believe.’ But at the same time, however, he can believe in the love of the people around him, and thus find hope”.
This interview with Pope Francis was published on March 18, 2020 in the Italian newspaper laRepubblica and is available online here.
By Brendan McManus SJ
1. Living in the real
The first thing is to accept this new reality which has overtaken us…. The Ignatian catchphrase ‘finding God in all things’, challenges us to find peace in inhabiting this new, unasked for reality. The primary thing therefore is to accept the new reality or ‘new normal’. Different rules apply and all of us are asked to change our behavior to protect ourselves and crucially to protect others…. It’s a no brainer that medical science has to dictate our approach, even given that the medical institutions are also scrambling to get a handle on this too. Now is not the time for private theories, alternative approaches or untested methods….
2. Face your fears
Though fear, anxiety, and worry are normal responses to the current situation, it’s important to not let them take over. Fear is not a good counsellor or guide; taken to its extreme it is crippling and immobilising. …Ignatius is urging us to push back, to be proactive and not to give up. This could be summed up as: ‘feel the fear and do the best thing anyway’. Contemplate your mortality and the fragility of life that this crisis points to. The paradox is that accepting this fact allows us to really live and to act appropriately….
3. Avoiding extremes
Extreme situations tend to bring out extreme reactions. One extreme is to be so overwhelmed that you are almost paralysed with fear and incapable of practicing sensibly the recommended guidelines for dealing with this virus. The other extreme is the temptation to deny or to underestimate the risk involved. You can maybe feel ‘bulletproof’ as a young person or apathetic and demotivated as an older person…. In between the two extremes is the space that most of us are called to inhabit. There we can take all the precautions necessary and find a way of ‘living within the limits’ that has self-care balanced with concern for others….
Focus on the light
One of the central Christian insights is that when darkness is all around, we are called to keep faithful and focus on the light, no matter how dim it seems. Remember the dynamic of the Cross. In moments of darkness and apparent abandonment, God works most powerfully.... The joy of the Resurrection always follows the anguish of the Cross. It’s important to recognise we still have choices here and how we act is important. We need to take responsibility and act wisely, without being paralysed by fear or alternatively, driven by a rash impulsivity (panic buying for example)….
5. Keep yourself in balance
In times of crisis or storm, it is really important to anchor yourself so that you don’t get blown about by the winds. Ignatius recommends keeping your eyes on the path, one step at a time, moving steadily on. It’s the image of a journey...where you attend to your feet and trust in the trail. This means getting all the basics right – rest, structure, diet, exercise, appropriate socialising and keeping oneself busy. The problem with this time of great social upheaval is that…we can get distracted from getting the basics right, taking our eyes off the road to look at the storm….
6. Assess your weak points
Ignatius advises us to shore up our defenses when under attack, remembering that it is our weaknesses or vulnerabilities that are often exploited…. This sort of health crisis stirs up deep fears in us.... It can easily fuel our existing weaknesses of worry, obsession and extreme behaviors…. A useful Ignatian rule of thumb is to work out what your weak points are and to address those first. For example, acknowledging that I am fearful or anxious by nature allows me to address these concerns first. This is empowering. I now have a strategy….
7. Real prayer
This is a time for prayer. Prayer is a natural response to uncertainty and loss of control. It allows us to be in communication with the divine. It empowers us to act and live without fear…. The key is to bring the whole of ourselves to God, including all our fears and worries, and ask for help and guidance. Give it all to God, all the fear, worry, and concern…. There is something else going on here in these extraordinary times. The precariousness of life is being revealed to us. Our inter-connectedness and need for community is becoming clear. There is a call for us to embrace our limited humanity and our need for a higher love….
8. Focus on what you can do
While there are many things you clearly cannot do without contravening official guidelines, there are many other things that you can do safely. See this crisis as an opportunity to improve yourself, be a better person and help others….
• Keep yourself fit and well, watch your diet and keep a healthy balance, get out in the fresh air
• Make good use of your time, take up new hobbies.
• Use this as an opportunity to build or strengthen relationships with family and friends.
• Figure out what you can offer to this situation
• Everyone has a gift or talent, something to offer to others.
9. The greatest good
… Acting selfishly by stockpiling and protecting only oneself is a limited strategy. Everyone knows that the only way this will work in the long term is if people cooperate…. This is sobering but true. We all need to hold our nerves and cooperate in order to make good use of food and medical facilities. We need to cooperate and support each other for what will probably be a long haul over some months. Reaching out and doing something for others takes the focus off ourselves and benefits both the giver and the receiver….The impact of a word, text or prayer for another in these exceptional times cannot be underestimated.
10. Making good decisions
Now more than ever we need to be sure we make good decisions. Some of the key aspects of the health advice we are given require good decision making. We note if we are showing certain symptoms for example and decide about getting appropriate medical help or testing. Also, crucially, we have to protect others by our responsible behavior and even through our absence in some cases. Some of the Ignatian rules for discernment are helpful here: gather as much information as you can; make good, unbiased judgments about situations and people; and act in responsible and socially ethical ways….
Brendan McManus SJ is an Irish Jesuit and former missionary who now conducts spiritual renewal retreats. His comments were posted on the website of the Irish Jesuits on March 18, 2020, and are available here.
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By Fr. Justin DuVall OSB
Across our country, and throughout the world, Catholics are facing a Lenten fast that they could not have imagined on Ash Wednesday. With the suspension of public Masses in more and more dioceses, the faithful are temporarily deprived of the celebration of the Eucharist.
Reactions to this preventative action by the bishops who have instituted this suspension have varied. Some Catholics have expressed anger, and others have expressed gratitude. The suspension affects all, no matter what an individual’s opinion. We have this imposed “fast” in common.
But I think there is a way to remain in communion with Christ and with one another at this extraordinary time for our world and our Church. If we can accept the “fast” imposed on us by circumstances beyond our control, we can unite ourselves to Christ in his fast – not in the desert, but in the glory of his resurrection.
Our celebration of the Eucharist is, as a rule, preceded by a fast. It is not merely out of respect for the Eucharist, but also an act of faith in what the Eucharist promises for our future. In the Divine Office for the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ, the Magnificat antiphon sings of the “Holy Banquet … in which a pledge of future glory is given to us.” The Real Presence includes our real future, which is yet to be fully realized. Our small Eucharistic fast acknowledges that gap in that pledge.
In the glory of his resurrection, Christ now fasts until he can drink of the Fruit of the Vine with us in the Kingdom of God. His desire for communion with us is so intense that he wills to make it an unsatisfied hunger in himself, until he can sit down with us at the banquet of heaven. It becomes a longing for that unity foreshadowed in the Eucharist and awaiting us in the fullness of the Kingdom.
Several commentators have referred to the practice of spiritual communion when the Eucharist is unavailable to us. We also have the opportunity for this spiritual fast that can keep us in communion with Christ and with one another. The pledge of future glory still holds good. When the Eucharist once again becomes possible, it will renew the pledge that our fasting has kept alive.
Father Justin DuVall is a monk and former archabbot of Saint Meinrad Archabbey. He currently serves as vice-rector at Bishop Simon Brute College Seminary in Indianapolis. This article was posted on the Pray Tell blog on March 16, 2020, and is available online here.
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By Matt Stewart SJ
In a moment like the present one, we can rely on our faith and religious formation to help us. Here are a few concrete ideas:
God Speaks Words of Calm.
This may be the most important bit of spiritual wisdom St. Ignatius has to offer in his “Rules for Discernment.” He tells us that…God never uses fear or anxiety to get our attention…. The crippling fear or anxiety that you might feel, though it is real and needs to be recognized and named, is not coming from God…. God speaks words of peace, calm, expansiveness, open-heartedness, and magnanimity. Ignatius calls this feeling “consolation.”
Love Your Neighbor. Wash Your Hands.
This might seem like a bizarre suggestion for living out our faith, but stay with me. I might think that I am at low risk of getting the coronavirus or even if I get it, it won’t be so bad for me and that is probably true. That perspective might lead me to dismiss the recommendations of epidemiologists…. But when I’m quick to dismiss these cautions because there is no harm to me, I am taking a fundamentally anti-Christian approach to the world.... We need to remember that there really are people who are at risk in our communities: elderly family members, the person next door with a respiratory illness, a pregnant friend, a coworker being treated for cancer.... It seems that right now part of “love your neighbor” means washing your hands.
Take the Extra Step. Reach Out to the Vulnerable.
Here, I mean the vulnerable...who’s already sick, who’s most at risk of getting sick, and who is afraid of getting sick…. It’s possible that some of you reading this know someone with the virus…. But also, think of all the people you know who are worried about getting this virus…. Take the extra step. Reach out and ask how they are doing. Give a word of comfort. Remind them that you are praying for them and thinking about them.
Gather in Groups of Two or Three to Pray.
For some of us, we suddenly have a lot more free time on our hands.... That can certainly give us some time for catching up on Netflix, but we shouldn’t forget that Jesus tells us that “where two or three are gathered together in my name, I am in the midst of them.” (Matthew 18:20) Find a couple of friends and pray the rosary together; read some scripture like the daily readings and talk about it; pray the Liturgy of the Hours. Be together in the name of Jesus.
Turn to the Sacraments.
…If you are in a place where the Sacraments themselves aren’t currently being celebrated communally, or if you find yourself in quarantine or simply in a place of marked social distancing, then let your sacramental imagination reconnect you to Christ and the Church. Even though holy water fonts might be empty, let your morning shower help you commit yourself to your baptism; offer your morning toast to God as a sacrifice of thanksgiving; tell someone you’re sorry in order to reconnect with them. This is what it means to live a sacramental life.
Matt Steward SJ has degrees in theology, philosophy and music and is currently studying theology at Boston College. His comments were posted on The Jesuit Post blog on March 13, 2020, and are available here.
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By Brian P. Flanagan
One thing unnerving about this virus and many other illnesses is that it can feel like our bodies are betraying us. This is true of our physical bodies but also our social and ecclesial bodies. Assembling for the Eucharist, that is, becoming the body of Christ, with the people we love now carries risk for ourselves and others. Receiving the body of Christ through bread and wine is now potentially dangerous.
So how can we continue to be the body of Christ as this crisis unfolds? How do those of us who need the body of Christ like we need bread and water continue to receive it?
...[W]hile the Eucharist may be one of the clearest places to encounter Christ and receive his body, it is not the only one... We also can venerate the body of Christ in countless ways in our community. One way, paradoxically, is to protect the body of Christ by fasting from the Eucharist and avoiding physical contact with each other.
...[T]here will be plenty of other opportunities to encounter the body of Christ in the vulnerable in the coming weeks, even if from an appropriate distance. Jesus teaches us in Matthew 25, “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.”
I have the privilege of being healthy and at low risk for complications from the virus. How can I use my time to support those in my community who are more biologically vulnerable? I have the privilege of being able to earn a salary as I work and teach from home. How can I use my resources to support those in my community who are economically vulnerable? I have the privilege of not being incarcerated, not being undocumented, not being a refugee or asylum seeker. How can I visit Christ in prison through creative forms of care? How can I welcome the stranger and support policies that will not turn our detention centers and prisons into death traps for the body of Christ in our midst?
St. John Chrysostom, preaching on Matthew 25, famously taught us to honor Christ’s body not only in the Eucharist but also on the streets: “Would you honor Christ’s body? Do not neglect Him when naked; do not, while you honor Him here [in the church] with silken garments, neglect Him perishing outside of cold and nakedness.... For what is the profit, if His table indeed is full of golden cups, but He perishes with hunger?”
In this time in which we are not able to encounter Christ in the assembly or the Eucharist, we always have the opportunity to encounter Christ in the vulnerable, even in ways that protect ourselves and those we wish to help from further risk....
Brian P. Flanagan is an associate professor of theology at Marymount University in Arlington, Va. This article was published by America magazine on March 17, 2020, and is available online here.
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By the Dicastery for Laity, Family and Life
The life that God has given us, the source of every other good, is precious and fragile at the same time. We experience this richness and this limitation each day, but especially when life is exposed to a threat to its spiritual and bodily dimensions, and to its individual and societal dimensions. At this time, we are catching a glimpse of a shadow which is rising over the horizon and which covers up some of the reflection of the divine life which shines forth in our life. The fear of falling into danger assails us, and our hearts become disquieted. But how can we forget the words of Jesus? He reassures us saying: “Not even a sparrow falls to the ground without your Father’s knowledge. Even all the hairs of your head are counted. So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows!” (Mt 10:29b-31)
Human life has the greatest of worth in the eyes of God. If, in certain circumstances, something poses a hazard to the health and life of many men and women—and perhaps even to ours as well—we must not feel that we are alone in the face of this enemy….
We are all called to face this international health emergency with seriousness, calm, and courage, readying ourselves for some sacrifices in our daily lifestyle for the common good: our good and the good of all. Each of us is called to do our own part, but we are not alone—we have the protection of God, who watches over each one of us with a Father’s love, and men and women who share with us the journey of life and solidarity in this present time and in what is to come….
In these difficult circumstances, the communion of love between spouses and [between] parents and children is a most precious resource, for all of society and for each individual person at risk of experiencing isolation…. Truly in these circumstances, the family can become a resource, a driving and sustaining force in everyone’s sense of responsibility, in their sense of solidarity, in their sense of strength and prudence, and in their sense of sharing and reciprocal help in difficulty.
Excerpted from “Message to the Laity and Families” issued by the Vatican’s Dicastery for Laity, Family and Life on March 6, 2020. The full text is available online here.
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[Last Update: 04.06.20]