An
immediate reaction that I had upon reading this article was to consult the
Catechism and present the official teaching of the Church concerning
euthanasia. But on second thought, I could see that here I could do better than
just dish out a set definition from an important source. Aside from eliciting
the wave of sympathy and support for Jam Sebastian in his bed of pain—something
that he really needs, and which we really should give to him at this moment—his
plight opens a very good opportunity for us to discuss certain important things
related to suffering, death, and the value of life.
I
could really try to understand what Jam is going through. All of us have been
sick at some point; some of us have been seriously ill, and so we could
sympathize and try to understand with what he’s feeling. It’s understandable
that such a young man, at a point where life is full of promise and growth,
could be left to undergo such suffering and pain. His suffering should be such
as to let him ask for death as a final act of mercy.
I
salute the courage with which his loved ones, especially his mother, is facing
this challenge in their life as a family. There is no doubt to the fact that
they also share his pain. I am edified and touched by his mother’s faith and by
the strength of her hope, in refusing her son’s request.
One
of the concrete consequences of our faith in God and in the Christ whom he sent
is our respect for the gift of life, as well as the value with which we hold
for it. It is a love for life in all of its stages—from conception to old age,
in health and in sickness, until natural death. We know that, whatever its
motives and means, direct euthanasia (which consists in putting an end to the
lives of handicapped, sick or dying persons) is morally unacceptable (Catechism
of the Catholic Church, 2277). This is perfectly clear for all of us. A true
Christian understanding of life’s worth would show us that we are not masters
of this gift, but stewards. We don’t have the power to create it, to give
it…neither is the decision to take it away. What is in our hands, though, is
the decision what to make of our life, and thus be able to give an account of
it at the end. In our hands is the power to make of our life something
beautiful, something worth celebrating, something which is full of meaning.
The
issue of euthanasia goes beyond the categorical rejection of thinking that it
is okay to decide when life ends, with the intention of being merciful in
ending one’s suffering. It should allow
us to consider deeper realizations connected with suffering, with meaning in
life, and thus enable us to discover our vocation with regards to the sick, to
those who suffer, to those who have not been as fortunate as us with terms of
good health.
Inasmuch
as we would all choose to be happy, suffering nevertheless is a reality of
life. With eyes enlightened by faith we could see that this is a consequence of
sin; setting ourselves apart from the source of life, we opt for death, and in
choosing to love ourselves than in accepting God’s love, we shrivel up. It’s
very easy for us to think that suffering is meaningless. This is not hard to
understand, considering that we are in a society which seems to place
well-being, comfort and pleasure as its highest goals, the gauge with which
true happiness is measured. But the fact
is, suffering DOES have meaning, and this is something which people with faith are able to see and appreciate.. Faith in God isn’t something palliative; it’s not supposed to take
away the pain. Contrary to that famous statement of Karl Marx, is not supposed
to be an opium, a powerful narcotic used to make one oblivious that life is far
from perfect. Far from closing our eyes to the realities of life (both pleasing
or otherwise), it opens us to see meaning in everything, even in suffering and
pain. For us persons, this is important. It is possible for us endure suffering
in life, to put up with pain, to learn how to live with it, and even embrace
it; however, we cannot live without meaning. We can live with suffering, but
without meaning, our life is worthless. It is precisely because we find meaning
even in pain that it becomes bearable, and even a path to salvation.
Our
faith in Jesus Christ allows us to stand precisely in times like this. Pope
Francis, speaking from the heart to people who are no stranger to loss and
suffering at the Tacloban Airport during his latest papal visit, pointed to the
image of the Crucified saying “Jesus is Lord, and he is Lord on the cross!”
Having undergone that painful experience, and being a survivor myself, one could
just imagine how comforting it was to learn that Christ had gone before us, had
already experienced what we were going through, and so he could save us from a
meaningless existence, which could just have ended up in disappointment and
futility. There is meaning in suffering
because we can never say that we suffer alone. The people whom we love,
healthcare workers may even abandon us, but the Lord who had passed through
suffering and understands what it means to suffer, to be rejected, to be alone,
to be afraid—and even die—will always be by our side.
Furthermore,
when we rest our gaze on the Crucified, we realize that even pain and suffering
could help us get up. Suffering with the Crucified Lord is redemptive: it
always leads us to life. To suffer with
Jesus on the cross means to accept the invitation to open ourself up and
abandon ourselves into the loving arms of our Father. It means rejecting
the temptation to close in on ourself, becoming prisoners of our own pain, a
prison from which no salvation will come.
Another
thing that Jam’s suffering—and those of many others—should allow us to realize
is the important role of those who accompany the suffering: the loved ones of
the patient and healthcare workers. I think those in pain, those who are sick
need to face two fears: that of meaninglessness on one hand, and abandonment on
the other. “Why have you abandoned me?” was the eloquent cry of Jesus on the
cross, addressed to his Father, and this is the same cry that is present in the
heart of those who suffer. The families and loved ones of the sick and the ill,
as well as those who are handicapped, are called to be present to them, to be
with them. Doctors, nurses and other
healthcare workers are asked not to deny to their patients the gift of the human
touch. Inserted with tubes, probed and prodded and subjected to other
indignities, patients also yearn for the balm of the human touch, of sympathy,
of love. The sick yearn not only to be well, to be relieved of their suffering,
but in all things, the deepest yearning
is that of knowing that they are loved, embraced and held. Blessed Teresa
of Calcutta was known for holding the dying in the streets until they gave up
the ghost, embracing them until they died. At least, she reasoned, they died
knowing that they were loved. What gave them real dignity was not that they
were healed (something which was humanly impossible), but that they were loved,
at a time and in a place wherein they were subject to gross indignities. Not
all of the sick could ever hope of being healed, but all could be loved. Pope
Francis once mentioned that more important than bodily healing was the
salvation that comes from God, and salvation is nothing else than being held
lovingly by the Father.
What
a great vocation it is to care for the sick! To be there for them, to be
present with them, to hold their hand! I am fond of telling nurses and doctors
that theirs is the privilege not only of caring for the sick, but also of being
able to touch the Body of Christ in the guise of the suffering. Their work is
very much like that of a priest at Mass: the priest touches the sacred Host
reverently placed upon the white corporal; doctors and nurses touch and care
for the bodies of the sick lying upon hospital linens. Remember: “whatever you
do to the least of my brethren, you do unto me!” (Mt. 25:40).
These
reflections come to me as we are nearing the feast of Our Lady of Lourdes,
which is also the celebration of the World Day of the Sick. To defend, value,
and love the gift of life in all of its stages: this is the way for every
Christian who believes in God and in the Christ whom he had sent; to open our
eyes in faith so as to see meaning even in suffering, and to realize that we
have the obligation to those who suffer, to become real angels of mercy. These
are things which the suffering of Jam Sebastian could very well teach to all of
us.
