Every lockdown day is well spent. A good part of it is dedicated to prayers.
It certainly didn’t use to be this way, but we’re in a world war against a virus and, like most seniors, we’re foxholed indefinitely, us in our 125 square meters on the sixth floor. There are no atheists in foxholes, as the saying goes, and some temporary dropouts are back with renewed fervor.
I am myself just making up for lost prayers.
As if perfectly timed, lockdown happens in Lent. Vergel and I not only hear daily Mass with no less than Pope Francis celebrating, in our living room, on Channel 76, at 2 p.m. At 3, we pray as instructed by the Virgin of Medjugorje. At 6, I join my college buddies for the rosary from wherever we are, united in spirit and prayer.
My husband and I also belong to a nondenominational organization founded on revelations in the 1950s to a Japanese. It’s called Sukyo Mahikari. The basic practice is raising a hand to give “light” for spiritual purification to individuals, surroundings, and just about everything. We do it twice a day at the same time with other members from where they themselves are locked down. We’re in our foxholes; we’re taking no chances.
Instructive news
The rest of the time, like, I suppose, everybody else in their own time, we watch the news. CNN is instructive in most useful ways. For local news, Facebook and the rest of social media beat all the other media in speed, although their sources need some checking for reliability.
I envy the intelligent, professional discussions on CNN. Watching them gives me the reassuring sense that the mutually reinforcing press freedom and right to information are alive.
It’s important at this time to hear from experts and about their studies of previous pandemics. After all, we are only now learning about the new coronavirus. Curiously enough, except for the African swine flu and the Spanish flu viruses, most others originated in China, notably H1N1 (swine flu), a virus rumored to have been man-made, which led to a pandemic in 1977, and Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome, in 2002-2003.
Practical point
The practical point, in any case, is for the world to put its best experts and resources together so that it may be able to get through the pandemic together, as it has historically managed to do.
Both houses of Congress have given the President emergency powers, which are mainly about funds he can preside over in the fight against the virus. With that, let’s hope things move faster. The supply of protective gear for doctors, nurses and other health workers is a particular concern.
My misgivings have always lain with the official leadership and been about trust in their priorities.
In the poorest taste, indeed, a mockery, I thought when I saw members of the House and some guests coming on TV with the Speaker himself in front holding one end of a placard announcing they, too, like the health front-liners, are out working for us. How can they even remotely compare?
But the true ethical picture is revealed in the way Alan Peter Cayetano and other officials prioritized themselves for testing for the virus.
The latest case involved Sen. Koko Pimentel, who risked other people’s lives by defying self-quarantine.
Deeper mystery
In our own self-quarantine, my husband and I have had time to think hard. From a spiritual perspective, we see this as a wake-up call, as God demanding the best of ourselves at a time when nobility of spirit is gravely lacking.
We resolve, in our own little way, that, when life goes back to normal or whatever might be the next new normal, to be more responsive to the less fortunate in our community. The clergy we know seem to have always done so and are doing it with even greater fervor. Just thinking about it makes me feel better already. Why, indeed, wait to be put through this crisis to be inspired to think about doing something godly?
Surely, a deeper mystery lies in the coronavirus. There’s no dispute that God works in mysterious ways and knows what He’s doing. There’s no dispute either that what He’s doing, He’s doing for everyone’s good.
How, then, can something good not come out of all this?