In the long, cold and dark shadow of Covid, the Readings and the Gospel examine the two inter-related realities of life and death in man’s experience. Even though they are both existential facts but when shrouded by anxiety, despair, and panic, it becomes almost impossible to peer beyond this massive wall of fear. On the one hand, fear reflects a healthy sign of respect for the gift of life. On the other hand, it could also expose both society’s acute attachment to life as well as hide its compelling distaste for death. Fear or not, our reaction to these existential realities begs the question of what we understand to be living and dying.
To say that we are materialistic is not really saying much. Perhaps what is closer to experience is that we are not as materialistic as we are in denial of it when facing the pivotal concern of this cursed pandemic—and it is not physical death even though it is staring us in the face. The point is physical death is part and parcel of who we are and whether we accept or deny it, it remains a certainty from which we cannot escape. Thus, in this global and coordinated endeavour to prevent physical death, what we may have failed to contend with is what comes after. Does physical death flag the end of everything? Or have we overlooked the point that far more “deadly” than dying is the possibility of spiritual death.
Today, the 1st Reading draws our attention to this concern that we may have missed out. The author of the Book of Wisdom highlights that God in creation has meant us for eternity. Immortality is a share in the life of God. Within this scheme, death entered into human experience not because of God’s will but through jealousy of the devil. Nevertheless, physical death is not total annihilation. Instead it has become the only gateway to life everlasting as promised by God.
The goal of life on earth is eternity. But it is not an eternity on earth. The 2nd Reading can shed a light on how one can attain endless life. Giving away wealth or money is more than just divesting ourselves of our attachments. It is also a form dying, a way of letting go of life’s temporal arrangement so that we may enter eternity. We speak of the “accidents” of birth. Race, rank or riches are but accidents of birth and rightfully, they belong to life’s temporary arrangement. One could be Indian, of a high caste and born with a silver spoon in the mouth and that is accidental because one could have come from a Chinese family living in the interior of China and whose parents have to eke out a living in a parched farm threatened by an encroaching desert. All we have does not belong to us for we are merely custodians. Hence letting go is the proper disposition of stewards. The lighter we are, the easier it is to rise to the top. The less we possess, the freer will our choice be for heaven.
Hence, the healing in the Gospel provides an understanding that both life and death must be lived in connexion to eternity. Firstly, it must be noted that the relationship between life and eternity is not articulated in the language of “either/or” meaning that the current efforts at life’s preservation implies a disdain of heaven. What the pandemic may have uncovered is the unspoken “either/or” attitude towards death meaning that our natural recoil has taken on an unhealthy distaste. What is proper to both temporal existence and eternity is that one is ordered towards the other and falling within this continuum is physical death. Life is a gift to be appreciated and the 1st Reading, even though it highlights the immortality that we have been created for, it does not in any way repudiate earthly life.
Secondly, it is within this context of life flowing into eternity that allows us to grasp the message of the Gospel where both death and life are held in tension. In the eyes of a puritanical society, the woman with the haemorrhage was as good as dead. There was no place for the likes of her. To touch her would be to court death itself. Hence, in her simple comprehension, she believed that just by touching the fringe of Jesus’ cloak, she would not contaminate that much of Him but would draw enough of His power for healing. She was spot on, not in the area of tainting Him, but rather that His entire person exuded healing.
Then, there was also Jairus’ daughter who was already dead as Jesus’ intended visit was delayed by the attention paid to the haemorrhaging woman. Yet, Jesus did not allow death to take centre-stage as He proceeded to draw the child back to life. In this simple action, He demonstrated His mastery over death and life. Through the healing of the woman and restoration of the young girl, we are challenged in the way we approach life and death. In other words, how should we live and die?
Firstly, the idea of eternal life is not gained by disparaging earthly life for that would be to spit on the face of God. A reckless endangerment of others through irresponsible social behaviour is not an act of faith. Indeed, one must take reasonable precautions, and this is where the tricky balancing line comes into play. The boundary between prudence and paranoia is thin. Secondly, what can help is to recognise that the preservation of life at all costs is not tantamount to eternal life. Here we are brought into the domain of “quiddity” which for many Catholics has become rather bewildering. The question is, when is a sacrament “sacramental”? In the case of the woman with a haemorrhage, touching the fringe of Jesus’ cloak is reminiscent of the sacramental act.
Sadly, our situation has taken on such a frightful turn because a clearing of the throat, a sniffle, not to mention a hug or a touch, evokes a self-doubting speculation. Have I been infected? Will I infect others? Both the miracles of healing and restoration involved a degree of touching. Our predicament is that what is necessary for sacramental efficacy is now throw into suspect. Every contact is a potential contagion. This is a crisis that we are facing as Church. It does not help that we can easily escape into virtual reality.
The days will come when we need to return to sacramental worship. For now, any conversation regarding the celebration of the Sacraments is bound to stir up strong reactions for or against. Perhaps in the calm after the pandemic storm we might find the opportunity to reflect on the question of how we should live which is at the same time a question on how we should die. In this, we are challenged by Jesus in Mark’s Gospel: “For what does it profit a man, if he gains the whole world but loses his soul”. It was the same gauntlet thrown at the vainglorious Francis Xavier by Ignatius Loyola when they were in studying in Paris.
There is a “promise” or “threat” of a 5th (or 6th or 7th, whatever) wave to come. Many have adapted well to this “new normal” of isolation etc but for some the dilemma is “How much are we to stop living” that reduces us to basically breathing but not living. Again, this is not an advocacy for abandoning precaution. Despite this numbing paralysis, this Sunday holds up clearly for us the Christian meaning of death. It must be noted that eternal life is predicated upon living temporally and dying. Let us not crown death as the greatest catastrophe because it is not annihilation. Christ has already transformed perpetual death into eternal life. Therefore, we are prompted to live life to the fullest, to the best of our abilities, but always holding in front of us, the need to prepare the soul for its eternal destiny. Lodged within our hearts is the inescapable longing for the higher life which can only be satisfied in and by Jesus Christ. Our life here on earth should always be a happy preparation for the hereafter. Let us live in Christ and for Him alone.
