A photo that went viral. One that lifts the spirit and gives hope that does not delude, not only to a country most hit by the pandemic, but also to the whole world. At a Texas hospital, on Thanksgiving Day, 26 November, the camera caught a distraught elderly man in the COVID-19 intensive care unit with his head buried in the arms of a doctor who is wearing full protective gear. The elderly in his hospital gown got out of his bed and was trying to get out of the room. The doctor, who has already worked for 252 days straight, approached and asked the man why he was crying. The man replied: “I want to be with my wife”. Dr. Joseph Varon, describing the moment at an interview said: “So I just grabbed him and I held him. I was feeling very sorry for him. I was feeling very sad, just like him.” Varon went on: “Eventually he felt better, and he stopped crying. I don’t know why I haven’t broken down. My nurses cry in the middle of the day.” When asked how he was surviving with no rest in a “depressing” and “prison-like” ambience, Varon replied: “I’m living on adrenalin!”
Scenes like this are not exclusive of any country and culture. Gestures of heroism, of compassion, of mercy, of hope abound in the Internet and in the different media as we navigate through this sea of sufferings. Even we ourselves, in one way or another, have personally seen and experienced them, especially of one who has already experienced quarantine twice, as a “person of interest”, after being exposed to the virus. Mercy can even manifest itself from one who is also infected. When he has to isolate himself because of “being afraid to contaminate others” more than being afraid for one’s life.
Where could one get the “adrenalin”, the much needed “wonder vaccine”, to be the best of himself or herself in the worst of times and places in order to be a presence of mercy and of hope?
The month of December, the month of joyful hope and expectation, is also a time of mercy and compassion. It is a time when we commemorate, even in this plague-ridden common house of ours, the first coming of the Word made flesh. Jesus, our Immanuel, God-with-us and God-for-us, by his life, death and resurrection, has gifted us the “adrenalin” of mercy, of compassion, of hope. Jesus’s word of absolute Truth is not only pronounced in his consoling words, for example, to the widow of Nain: “Do not weep”. As the ultimate source of Life, he called out to the deceased son: “Young man, I say to you, rise!” Compassion moved Jesus’s heart for the widowed mother and, by mercy, he raised the dead young man back to life! By his life and example, Jesus continues to be the Way in every time and space. St. Francis, for example, had the courage to embrace Christ in the person of the leper. Whereas St. Mother Teresa of Calcutta saw and cared for Jesus in the poorest of the poor.
Like the elderly man, many of us have deep longings to be with our dear ones in these most painful times. Like the desire “to see my ailing Mom”, the desire “to be home to bury my two siblings”, the desire “to visit my friend who is sick of the virus”. But with the present unseen evil still devastating the whole of humanity, we simply have to put aside our many desires that connect us with our human family. In fact, Dr. Varon also had a message for people who are not taking precautions amid the pandemic. “People are out there in bars, restaurants, malls. It is crazy. People don’t listen and then they end up in my ICU. What people need to know is I don’t want to have to be hugging them. They need to do the basic things — keep social distance, wear masks, wash hands, and avoid going to places where there are a lot of people. If people would do that, health care workers like me could hopefully rest.”
They are saving and sensible advice that we have to follow. However, we know that virtual hugs and flying kisses cannot replace personal encounter. This Christmas 2020 will be, without doubt, very different. It should not be lived, however, like Good Friday, but instead with a gaze lighted up by the glory of Easter. May our faith continue to increase in the One who, by emptying himself despite his being divine, became like us so that we can “hear”, “see”, “look”, “touch” Him in every person next to us and those far from us. Jesus, I believe, in his varied and mysterious ways, will not rest until we could feel his warmest hug, not only this Christmas, but also during our vulnerable moments throughout the year. Let us watch with ardent longing for his gracious coming into our personal life, so that raising us from the dust of our selfishness and sterilized from the virus of indifference, we may have the grace to “hug” those around us. May our prayer, then, in this season of hope and light, “Marana thà”, be truly born from a humbled and contrite heart.
