Crossing Over Our Jerusalem

A Palm Sunday Reflection on the COVID-19 Pandemic | 5 April 2020, Rome 

MOST REV. LUIS ANTONIO G. CARDINAL TAGLE, DD

My Dear Sisters and Brothers in Christ:

We once again thank God for bringing us together as one community as we start the Holy Week, commemorating Jesus' entrance into the city, Jerusalem, and we heard St. Matthew's version (cf. Mt 26:14-27:66 or 27:11-54) of the passion and death of Jesus for this year. I would dare say that our generation will not forget this Holy Week. This is the first time in my 38 years as a priest to celebrate the Holy Week this way. And I'm sure, it will remain with me, not just as a memory but as an invitation for us to really enter the mystery of Jesus' passion and death, when all the other rituals and traditions that we have been used to are greatly reduced or even cancelled.  

To my brother priests: we have always been busy during Holy Week. To the sisters, the pastoral workers, the catechists, the liturgists: you have been preoccupied like crazy during Holy Week looking after the many details of the celebration. Now, we have time to reflect, to pray; and maybe for many—for the first time—to really enter the mystery without any of these preoccupations about: "Are the flowers ready?", "Are the candles ready?", "Are the linens ready?" They are all important but now we are reduced to the Word, the celebration itself. So this is also a privileged time. Allow me to reflect on this beautiful day, which ushers in the whole week, with a few reflections linking them to the context that we are in, this pandemic which has hit and has been affecting practically all peoples. 

Jesus enters Jerusalem

The first point is this: Jesus enters Jerusalem, and there He will face His passion and death. This coronavirus pandemic has claimed the lives of so many people in many parts of the world, and no one seems to be exempt; and for some of us, it's coming closer. I have friends who have died. I have a cousin who died yesterday in the US. He had cancer but the virus hit also. And so as we commemorate Jesus' entry to Jerusalem to face His passion and death, I guess the coronavirus pandemic also asks all of us: "How do you face your death?" "Does it even cross our mind?" Iniisip ba natin ang kamatayan at papaano natin haharapin ang kamatayan? (Have we thought of death and how could we face it?). 

Our readings and the celebration today remind us of something fundamental: Jesus did not go to Jerusalem only to face death. It's very clear: Going to Jerusalem was the culmination of His mission. He came, He was born, He lived for a mission, and integrated into that mission to fulfill the Scriptures is His humble death. 

As St. Paul says in the Second Reading (cf. Phil 2:6-11), the humility not only to be a human being but the humility to die, and the humility to die on the cross that was part of the mission. So I suppose Jesus is telling us the best way to prepare for death is to live your mission now and let death be the culmination of your mission. We cannot prepare for death by panicking, by going to the best doctors... they can serve; but in the end, we face death if we know this is the apex of my mission in life. I came here for this mission and because I'm convinced of that mission,  I can bear all the pain, the passion and the dying entailed by that mission. 

To our student priests, if you are convinced that your coming to Rome to study is a mission, then you can survive all the sleepless nights, you can survive all the pains of studying. You did not come here to suffer. You came here to study and if that is the perspective of my mission, you can bear with all the dying. So the question is not just "How to die?"; the question now is "How are you living?", "How are you performing your mission?"

Para sa mga kababayang takot na takot mamatay—at dapat naman talagang matakot: Nakakatakot talaga pero mas nakakatakot na wala ka palang naging buhay, hindi mo pala nagawa ang misyon mo kaya lalong nakakatakot mamatay. Pero 'yung tao na alam n'ya: "Naibigay ko na’ng lahat sa aking misyon" kapag dumating na ang katapusan, may kapayapaan ang puso, kayang harapin, masakit man, nakakatakot man, pero kayang harapin ang kamatayan dahil alam n'ya: "Nagawa ko na ang aking misyon sa buhay." (For my fellowmen who are very afraid to die—and we should really be afraid: It is really frightening but not to live life at all is more frightening. But a person who knew that he or she has given everything in one's mission, when the end becomes apparent, there is peace in the heart, ready to face—though painful and frightening—death because he or she knew that "I have fulfilled my mission in life"). 

Jesus turns Suffering into a Gift of Self 

The second point is this: Many people are asking: "My wife... she's a good woman, a good wife, a good mother... she does not deserve this suffering. She does not deserve to die this way." I suppose this is a question that many patients and loved ones of patients of the coronavirus entertain. Some even ask God: "What have I done against neighbor and against You for me to deserve this?" I know this is  a question that comes to us instinctively, almost naturally when we suffer. We think of suffering as a punishment from God and so we tried to be good in order to avoid any suffering; and when suffering comes, we ask God: "I've been good then why is this suffering coming to me?" I guess, it's part of our human instinct but if we pose that question to Jesus and we read the passion of Jesus and the passion of the prophet, the suffering servant, in the First Reading (Is 50:4-7), I think that is not the right question because the prophet, the suffering servant in Isaiah, does not deserve the suffering, the physical and verbal insult; He did not deserve it; Jesus did not deserve it. And here's Peter telling the rest: "I do not know Him" and Jesus does not deserve that especially from Peter. Jesus showed Peter a singular love even when Peter did not deserve Jesus' recognition. If I were Jesus—and thank God I am not Jesus—Peter would have gone early on in the Gospel accounts and you would not see Peter anymore towards the end, but I am not Jesus. But Jesus deserves better from Peter. Peter, James and John—all the closest friends—what did they do? They slept when Jesus needed them the most. Jesus did not deserve that. Judas who was telling Jesus: "Hail! Rejoice! Peace to you, Rabbi" and then the arrest came. 

Jesus does not deserve that, and all the rest especially culminating in that prayer: “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?" He did not deserve it, but maybe we're asking the wrong question. Maybe our perspective is mistaken.  Maybe it's not the question of what we deserve and what we do not deserve, but hearing that final disturbing prayer of Jesus where He does not even call God 'Father', He goes back to the formal address, "My God".  On the cross there is no familiarity, but then that is the cry of the Savior. He does not deserve that but He owned it. He owned it so that we would not be abandoned. He did not abandon us. He took our cries as His own and turned it into a prayer, not a complaint, but the prayer of self-giving. 

So when we suffer, maybe the invitation is how do we turn suffering— if it is in the fulfillment of God's will—into a gift of self. Whether we deserve it or not is secondary, what is primary is: though I associate myself with others who are abandoned and I take into my heart their cry, I make that my own offering of self to God. And it is not abandonment... it is salvation especially when it comes from the Son of God. 

Para po sa mga nakakaramdam na para silang napabayaan ng Diyos, at nagtatanong: "Bakit nangyayari ito? May ginawa ba ako?" Siguro hindi po iyon ang dapat manaig. Manalig tayo. Kinuha ni Hesus ang ating mga karanasan na tayo'y parang pinabayaan. Inangkin N'ya 'yun, pero sa puso N'ya hindi iyon nanatiling pagrereklamo sa Diyos kundi pagpapaubaya, paghahandog ng sarili sa Diyos kaya tayo’y naligtas. Tayo na dapat talagang mapabayaan, hindi pinabayaan ni Hesus, inangkin at iniaalay sa Diyos. (For those who feel that God abandoned them and ask: "Why is this happening? Have I done wrong?" Maybe that must not reign in us. Have faith. Jesus took our experiences of abandonment as His own. He claimed it, but in His heart it was not a complaint to God but letting it be, a self-offering to God so that we might be saved. We deserve to be really forsaken, but Jesus did not abandon us, but claimed and offered us to God).

The Cloak, the Palm and the Silent Hosanna!

And finally, I've been receiving some messages from people who have lost their loved ones, and aside from the pain, the sorrow of having lost someone dear to them, now it is also the pain of not being able to be there beside their loved one because of the quarantine, because of the strict rules. Many people die alone whether in the hospital or in their homes without any loved one beside them. Thanks to the doctors and nurses and other people who care, and I tell Jesus: Look, when You enter Jerusalem to face Your suffering and death,  You had a crowd, You have people to accompany You,  to welcome You at least at the beginning. They even threw their cloaks on the road... this long protective clothing that the people used to protect themselves from the heat or from the rain. Now, they removed this sign of protection to welcome You as though they are telling You: "We will protect You." They welcomed You with their palms, with their branches especially the palm leaves dear to them as a sign the victory over violence and war, a sign of peace. They’re welcoming You, the Prince of Peace with shouts of "Hosanna!", let God be our Savior that God may save us. Yes, but in the end, they will strip Jesus naked and they will give Him a cloak, a military cloak as a sign of ridicule. They will give Him a reed to insult Him: "Hail, King of the Jews!" His friends will leave Him, too. He will be alone. 

To the people who grieve over the death of a loved one and who grieve because they were not there to accompany their loved ones, our faith and our celebration today remind that Jesus had the same experience, and Jesus is definitely is, was and will be with every person crossing to their Jerusalem. No one will cross alone. Jesus will be with you. And you, dear family members, throw your cloaks, your cloaks of prayer and petition; wave your palms of peace to your departed loved ones; shout your silent "Hosanna!" as prayer of salvation, and the event becomes holy. 

Let us celebrate the signs of Jesus’ nearness to us. We can be the cloak, we can be the palm, we can be the silent "Hosanna!" to those who are crossing over to their Jerusalem.

A Final Note

Let me close with something that was really also quite surprising but uplifting to me. A few days ago, a religious priest who belongs to a religious order working in Manila sent me messages about the activity in their parish,  and of their congregation especially to help the poor and the homeless. There are quite a number of homeless people in the territory, the area of the parish. So he said: "Your Eminence, we're doing what we can and we tried to give food to the homeless, those who are on the streets." And I said: "Just be careful because they will congregate and you should observe also distancing. Now, it's good to help but coordinate with the police..." Then he said: "Yes, we are doing that. One homeless person was asking about you. This homeless person was asking where is Cardinal. I miss him." So I told the priest: "When you see that person again, please tell him or her that I am grateful for the greeting and I will pray for him or her. Then yesterday, I got the video from the priest, the video of this homeless woman with a mask and with a bag of food. She said:  "Cardinal Tagle, kamusta na po kayo? Mag-iingat po kayo, ha!" (Cardinal Tagle, how are you? Please take care of yourself). Wow, a homeless woman and she is thinking of her bishop. Thank you... Who am I? She should be worried about herself, she should be worried about her condition but then she wishes her bishop all the good things. This is Holy Week, this is how we accompany Jesus and this is how Jesus accompanies us as we cross to Jerusalem.