IS Covid-19 a curse?
If one TV network is to be believed, it is a curse, a sumpa.
A series of typhoons or a long, deathly drought has always, in the past, created a belief that something higher than scientific experiments is causing a disturbance in Nature. In the past, also, whenever a pestilence has affected regions, there are always religions rising to protect human believers.
When was it that a drop of kalamansi would be our own protector against a deadly wind coming from somewhere? I was in Naga when this happened and the text message came from an educator warning me that at 3 p.m. of that day, a toxic wind would soon envelop the city and poison us all unless we had the tiny lemon with us.
For several decades, the end of the world was always a threat foisted on us, humans. It was as if we were created to live with a general, non-negotiable deadline in our lives. But the creatives or the deadly and ardent believers in us had ways to combat that threat. There were always the prayers. Or there were rituals and artefacts for the rites conjured to face any existential cut-off from the living universe.
Black candles were favored over the white ones whenever a threat from the Divine was announced. You might think there are no black candles. Be surprised: they exist. Commerce always exists side by side with religion. In churches, there are candle vendors displaying said products in varied colors. Blue, brown, red, yellow—each one is a shield or, in some case, a plea or a petition for good health, passing an exam, recovery from illness, a protection from evil eye.
The said candles are sold in front of Catholic churches. I wonder if priests believe in them. I never get a clear answer about them.
What is clear is when the pandemic was declared, the Catholic Church clearly and some other religious denominations agreed that all services will be stopped. In their place, a ceremonial will be performed without the crowd present. Will it be the same? Of course, it will not be the same. As in healing rituals, the community assenting around urges the cure to take place.
Did the institutional Church examine the implications of their concession to the demands of health and science? Did it diminish their power at all?
In the history of epidemics and plagues, territories were altered and battles were stopped. Some stories are told how the plague reaching Athens in the early fifth century B.C. weakened the soldiers of that city-state and contributed to its morbid defeat by the Spartans. In what is now known as the Antonine Plague, Marcus Aurelius became one of its most significant victim. Starting in 165 A.D., the plague ended in 180 A.D. There were waves in the afflictions with the plague surfacing after nine years. It was toward the end of the plague that Marcus Aurelius Antoninus was killed, his death giving the plague the name.
Plagues therefore are not new in human histories or to the lives of empires and tyranny. In 541 A.D, the Justiniani Plague spread from Palestine to Byzantine. The great ruler Justinian would give the name to this pandemic. History books would narrate how there would be thousands of deaths everyday. There are also journals saying the numbers were exaggerated, which is not surprising how historians and chroniclers can be experts in distortions. What remains as factual is the perception of the people then that everyone was dying and that was enough for them to believe that the world was coming to an end. It was written that the deaths and uncertainties created an apocalyptic period. This apparently contributed to surge in converts to and the rise of Christianity.
Christianity, as we know it, has always been presented as a last refuge. In the plagues of the ancient world it was this character that made it what it is now today.
Look where it is now in this age of pandemic?
A few days ago, a bishop in Manila complained about the government efforts stopping big gathering of people, a condition given in churches when there are Masses, novenas and other events. This statement which was posted online was not well received by many who demanded the bishop assume responsibility if people did gather and positive cases of Covid-19 arise from that congregation. There were other stronger words uttered. What made sense was what many said about how one could pray anywhere, or alone anywhere.
For many, this desire to pray alone and directly communicate with God or God has been present in evangelicals and other Christian groups.
Is Covid-19 changing our religions?
Many more things are happening around and in us as the pandemic goes on. There is no historian yet writing about the actions of men with regard to the virus and there are no accounts yet as to what this virus has created in communities, other than death. The historians will be there at the end of the pandemic, after 20 or 50 years articulating, dramatizing, arguing.
It is us ordinary people, the keeper of the days of the quotidian, who will need to write down the day-to-day of each week. We should list down the number of wakes we were never able to attend. We should count the many times we wanted to hug our child or grandchild but a voice from something like Hell warned us not to. We should listen to tales of neighbors who walked miles and miles to the boundary only to be told they could not leave the city or town. Let us not forget those who stood in front of city and town halls begging, waiting. Let us not forget those who died not of the virus but of hunger.
Each morning, we should calibrate the hopes in our hearts. Each noontime, we must pause and be conscious how we are almost worshipping the new growth of herbs from our old pots. Then at night, when we gather to pray—the rosary or a set of prayers—let us be conscious of one thing—that very hardheaded refusal throbbing in our mind not to give up even as we know now that things will never be the same again. Before we go to bed, we should contemplate: what name shall this pandemic bear? In whose honor and in whose memory shall the sad 2020 in all its lapses and bad governance be offered?
E-mail: titovaliente@yahoo.com
Image credits: Ed Davad