A very natural reaction to the situation at hand is one of questioning. The magnitude of the change in our lives and the sense that the world is locked up and under attack may direct our search toward God, which is no unreasonable thing. Why does this pandemic and all its consequences exist? Is it an act of divine punishment? Before attempting to answer this question, we must first remember that suffering has plagued the world since its very origin, and evil has corrupted it since the beginning of mankind. This is not a new question, and certainly it is a difficult one. I can try to affirm the core of the issue, however, in saying that suffering is a consequence of the fallen state of the world (of Original Sin), and that evil is simply the human act of the will that rejects God’s love. So neither is authored by God. However, it is worth asking whether one or both could be used for a good purpose. For example, would God use suffering as a means to a good end?
The example of a father and a child might help answer this. When a child misbehaves, his father may verbally rebuke him with a raised and abrasive tone. A reprimand is unpleasant, and in the case of a child, it would cause fear or sorrow. Consequently, the child might change and not repeat the same behaviour in the future, partly out of fear of the same consequence, but more importantly because he realizes that because his actions caused his father to react so unpleasantly, they must have been in some degree wrong. Further, the father’s purpose of the punishment or chastisement is nothing but love: to will the good of his son, which sometimes requires unpleasant methods.
In our case, perhaps the most rational answer to why things are the way they are is that God allows this suffering to take place, but He does so with a clear and good purpose. To suffer means to open the eyes and see with renewed clarity the blessings imparted on us, the first of which is the gift of existence – one that, if we choose so, can be spent in its eternity with God. To suffer means to have the luxury to be deprived of our luxuries: for only this way can we reaffirm where lies value in life, and reassess the relative importance of material and spiritual possessions. To suffer means to share in the pain of another, to experience the profoundly human emotion of empathy, which we cannot achieve by sharing pleasure or happiness. Most importantly, to suffer means to share in Christ’s Passion, to bear the Cross with Him, to trudge painfully with Him toward Golgotha, to be crucified with Him, and in the midst of all this suffering, to receive the glorious gift of redemption. These things can be thoroughly difficult to enact, and neither I nor anyone else should pretend to have achieved them. But it is worth remembering that redemption does not necessarily require an immense amount of suffering; rather, each and every moment of pain or sorrow, little or large, can be cherished with Christ and amassed, at the end of our lives, in a collective heap of suffering that has since turned into a vast expression of love of God. Sometimes, it is the little things that matter most.
This being said, it would do much good to the human race to profit from such reminders – be it war, famine, natural disaster, economic difficulty, or sickness – by looking to itself and its plagues and wrongdoings. I am not saying the world is an entirely evil place; but correcting its corruptions requires just as much attention as maintaining its virtues, if not more. Secularism, human objectification, ignorance, the collapse of the family, pornography, consumerism, abortion, and modernism are examples of what society now labels normal and continues to encourage. It is no coincidence that today, we as a society also happen to be far better off, in terms of quality of life, than all our ancestors since the beginning of mankind. Perhaps our privileges and luxuries have become cloaks over eyes and left us unable to see past these comforts… Perhaps they are blindfolds that have left us walking in the wrong direction. And I do not say this from the position that I do not wear this blindfold: we all do, at least thin ones. Further, it is no easy task removing them, as they are tied down by the knots of our flawed consciences. But the act of using the ears is not impeded by any blindfold: once we listen, it is easier to become aware that there is in fact a knot to be undone. In short, I think our current plight is not limited to negative consequences, and it offers striking opportunity for awakening and change.
For many, something that comes to mind during times of trouble is prayer. However, it seems to me that this particular time of confinement especially prompts an increase in prayer and growth of interior life. Firstly, we now reside far more in the confines of our homes, and this can entail many different things: some families face domestic problems, others endure cramped conditions, and others are simply breaking apart. We must keep them in our prayers. While most of us, hopefully, do not face these struggles, I think a general sense of mental and moral lethargy does exist. One manifestation of this is decreased focus and drive for work. As a student, I used to have the privilege of being in an environment suited for education, of changing classrooms for each subject, and of leaving school and coming home on a daily basis. These last two things were key in resetting my mindset and renewing my ability to focus on the task at hand. Now, unfortunately, we are deprived of this; and we have no choice but to work in the same environment the whole day. If you feel more distracted, if you feel the temptation to avoid work is all the greater, you are certainly not alone – many of us are the same. This is where prayer is so essential – and I have given a relatively minor example. The importance of prayer only grows when it comes to more serious sorrows and sins. By its nature, prayer is an act of vigilance, of renewing one’s guard against all the looming temptations we encounter. However, as I found through experience, prayer is not something to be done only when we decide it opportune – that is, when we feel we need it. Why should our emotions be reliable indicators of when to speak to God and when not to? In my opinion, it is better not to assume that we can predict future temptations or determine our current state being, and from there decide if prayer is necessary. A very easy thought to have is “I do not need prayer at the moment, I am better than I was yesterday” or “I don’t need it because I feel more at peace right now.” While it is true that prayer, if sincere, also provides emotional relief, encouragement, and calmness, one should not go to it only when he feels that he needs these things. You can be quite content and still be in desperate need of it.
This is why I believe that habit is key. Just as repeated sin makes it more and more difficult to avoid it in the future, habitual prayer makes it more and more easy to enter into conversation with God. Personally, I would have more conflict with my conscience if I neglected habitual prayer than if I decided not to pray based on my emotions. This is because a habit, in my view, is a sort of contract with the self, and thus produces guilt when infringed. Picture a child and his father again: if the latter reads stories to his son every night, and one time did not do so because he was not in the mood, would the son not feel some form of neglect? Naturally, one could argue that this sort of habit implies different obligation than the one a person makes with himself, such as in the case of prayer. But my point is not in showing why the obligation for prayer is greater than others, my point is that habit can be a valid and useful tool for doing good things. At its core, when used correctly, it is a method of inscribing a mark in the conscience, a lasting mark, which will sometimes come into disagreement with the will, and in so doing is more likely to prompt change for the better.
In closing, I leave you with meditation on the two major points I discussed. The first is to adopt a different outlook on the world currently: to ponder on the goodness that can come out of suffering, as well as the many chronic wrongs that torment our world – aside from what you see on the news and in the media. I wish to also encourage you to pray, whether this means starting something you have never done before or simply deepening an established practice. If you do not believe that prayer has any value, it will take far more than a few paragraphs to convince you that you are wrong, and I am not the person whom you should debate. If you do think prayer has worth, or if you are merely doubtful, I can but urge you to at least try. Try to form a habit. Do not be worried that you know not what to say, what to pray for, who to pray for… these will come. For the least and the most experienced, it is the Holy Spirit that nourishes the act of prayer, not your knowledge or wisdom. The prayer of a peasant is no less than the prayer of a scholar. After all, Jesus told us to have the hearts of children and the minds of adults, and prayer relies far more heavily on the former. And through it, you will also receive the emotional comfort that perhaps cannot be found elsewhere. As the ever-applicable St. Augustine reminds us, happiness relies not on our circumstances but on our interior life.
“Bad times, hard times, this is what people keep saying; but let us live well, and times shall be good. We are the times; Such as we are, such are the times.” (St. Augustine)