The challenge of a virus curfew

We’ve been on curfew since March 16 and this will continue at least until April 12, Easter. The new regulations prohibit travel on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays. The other days, access to supermarkets, banks, and other places to get supplies is limited to one day a week, dependent on your identity card. I can stock up on stuff on Fridays.

It feels strange to be confined at home, especially when I want to minister to those who are ill or bed-ridden.

Even for me, an introvert, it's not easy. But I have what I need - as well as the beauty of creation around me.

I have gone out two days – last Wednesday to Santa Rosa to get medicine for a person with severe depression who lives in a remote village and to transport a woman from the local health center to the hospital for surgery; the next day I delivered the medicine and then went to pray with a family in Plan Grande and bury a newborn who died a few hours after birth. Praying in the house beside the tiny coffin was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do recently.

But I stay at home, read, say hello to neighbors (with at least two meters between us), pray, clean, wash clothes, cook. I don’t have many concerns – only wondering if the gas for cooking will last.

I watched Pope Francis’ prayer and blessing on Friday, but I cannot get into televised Masses.

The remarks of a Spanish bishop are pointed:

“All this bombardment raises many questions for me. Aren’t we treating believers as if they don’t know how to pray and should depend on the clergy to do so? What have we done so far, have them as spectators?

“Don’t you think that so much Mass on screens keeps people in the passive role of spectators? Or is it that we want to justify our priesthood? Is it that the religious services already on television and radio stations aren’t enough? So far they have been.”

The challenge for the Church is to pray as the Church, wherever we are.

As for me, I’m trying to spend more time on the daily readings and need to pray the Liturgy of the Hours more slowly. I’ve prayed the rosary more than usual. I am also reading a lot and I may just have to work on that book on the diaconate I’ve been trying to write for at least two years.

But I still feel somewhat “useless.”

This feeling is connected to my desire to help – and, in a less noble sense, my desire to not be seen as one who is doing what needs to be done.

So I need to practice patience and put aside the desire to control.

But I think additional challenge for me is to be ready for the aftermath of this pandemic.

      What will we do, as a community of faith?

      We will console those who lost family members or friends.

      We will help rebuild community in our liturgies.

      We will resume the religious formation which we have put on hold.

In our parish, we will baptize 15 young adults, celebrate the sacrament of marriage for more than 20 couples, and celebrate close to 200 confirmations.

My guess is that many people here will also feel even more the trauma of daily life, with poverty, insecurity, and the isolation of more than a month of curfew.

But what can we do then in the face of the economic and social breakdown that has come upon us?

I pray that we do not return to the normal of the past – with inadequate health care, with a culture of individualism enhanced by poverty, where people just think of themselves and not their neighbors, especially those most in need.

I pray that we not return to a political and social system where the poor have little or no voice and authorities lord it over them, offering them hand-outs that are highly politicized.

I pray that we do not return to a clericalized church but have learned to pray as the Church in our homes and our places of work, while nurturing a deep hunger for the Eucharistic assemblies with the whole people of God – where we can share the Bread of Life.

I pray that I do not return to the normal of trying to control everything, to look good – while not opening myself to the needs of those around me.

I pray that God opens our hearts, transforms our live, and make of us a people.

And now I will close with some very controversial remarks.

The cardinal archbishop is taking the image of our Lady of Suyapa, the patroness of Honduras, over the country in an Armed Forces helicopter, to bless the country.

I have three major problems.

First of all, this feels like an appeal to magic. I believe in the power of prayer – to change the world and to change people, first of all ourselves. Secondly, this seems to be a very costly endeavor, when there are not enough ventilators and other medical supplies in the country. In addition, I object to the use of a military helicopter. Yes, the Virgin of Suyapa is the patroness of the Honduras Armed Forces. But, in the midst of a militarized country with police and military abuses of power, we need a disarmed Virgin to bless us. We need the vulnerability of Jesus in the Eucharist to bless us. We need hospitals, not helicopters.

I know this feat will make some people feel secure – but is this the type of security God wants?

Let’s continue to pray. Maybe this is the time to take seriously what Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew 6:6:

But when you pray, go to your inner room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you.