Tekst van de 8ste HN lezing door Kevin Dowling

Last modified: 17 September 2021 13:39:24

AIDS AND THE GOD OF HEALING

“Nothing in this pandemic works in a vacuum….everything is inextricably linked to everything else……That’s why I appeal to you to enter the fray as advocates……It’s a Herculean task……but in this battle no-one is exempt…….We can subdue this pandemic…..but it will take the collective and uncompromising voices of principle and outrage to make it happen….” (Stephen Lewis…. United Nations Envoy on Aids).

I remember one day sitting in a wood and zinc shack in the heat of the day in one of the many informal settlements or “squatter camps” around the mines near where I live. A young mother sat before me and the home-care nurse, the perspiration and tears running down her face, the pain in her terribly thin body so evident. I looked into her eyes which spoke much more than her few soft words. Next to her, her infant also dying of Aids. I saw desperation, loneliness, and a fear as she looked at her infant – would she die before he did, and if so what was going to happen to him?

Last Sunday, a granny was buried in one of our communities. She was caring for a little girl, Thato, the child of her own daughter, but the mother is sick with Aids. The little girl was absolutely distraught at the funeral and ran over to one of our religious sisters with whom I work in our Aids programme; the little girl just cried and cried, and asked why had they put her granny into that big box, and why was the box going down into the ground?

I have looked into the faces of the grannies who at this time of their lives have to take over caring for the children of their children and other orphans in such settlements – a burden far too great for them as one recognises the sadness, the sheer weariness and pain on their lined faces. I see the emptiness in the face and eyes of a young girl who was raped by her father and whose baby next to her has Aids, and was told to leave the family house and go, and who has just been told that she must also leave this shack where she found refuge, and in which we were sitting listening to her story. It goes on and on, and indeed, as Stephen Lewis remarked with such passion… ”it will take the collective and uncompromising voices of principle and outrage…” to turn around this HIV/Aids pandemic.

Outrage – yes! Because the feeling of outrage at the poverty and suffering of our most vulnerable sisters and brothers, and the children, can be a God-given stimulus to get involved, and not to let despair and the sheer enormity of the task discourage us from taking action. It may indeed need different forms of advocacy, as Stephen Lewis called for, to deal with all the issues that make life so, so problematic for these fragile human beings. But outrage can also be destructive; it needs to be “accompanied” by principle, as Stephen Lewis said, that is by a spirit and vision that will motivate the response we are called to make in the face of this human catastrophe.

Outrage and principle come together, become one at a point which can be termed - compassion. But compassion is a word which can be used all too easily! As Henri Nouwen expressed so clearly: “Compassion is hard because it requires the inner disposition to go with others to the place where they are weak, vulnerable, lonely, and broken. But this is not our spontaneous response to suffering. What we desire most is to do away with suffering by fleeing from it or finding a quick cure for it. As busy, active, relevant ministers, we want to earn our bread by making a real contribution. This means first and foremost doing something to show that our presence makes a difference. And so we ignore our greatest gift, which is our ability to enter into solidarity with those who suffer………” And he then identifies where that ability is to be nurtured: “It is in solitude that this compassionate solidarity grows….” (The Way of the Heart, pg. 34).

It is this spirit and vision which is at the heart of my address this evening; or to put it more succinctly, a spirituality which can only be discovered and grow in solitude; a spirituality called for in those who care for the suffering, and a spirituality we must strive to build up sensitively within the poor and sick in the Aids pandemic - so that their experience of Aids may in their time become an encounter with the God of Healing.

Is that possible? Is it possible that Aids can become a spiritual encounter with the God who reaches out to heal above all the spirit of one who feels alone, marginalised, rejected, and faces the stark truth that this sickness is weakening me in body and spirit, and may kill me – is it possible that right in the midst of such profoundly personal suffering a God of Healing can be present? I believe so………but it is by no means easy to even begin and then grow towards that ideal. The invitation from God is this: that mystery of healing presence has to be incarnated, has to take flesh in our flesh and spirit so that the hurting, lonely person can experience God’s reverence for them through our reverence for them - a reverence which can help them gradually take the risk to trust and have faith; our reverence that can slowly heal through our eyes, our words, our prayer, our presence, our touch, our holding them. In other words, our spirit and body, our very being bonding with their being through the God who lives in them and us.

Henri Nouwen reflected on what he called “the mutuality between the healer and the person who needs healing” in the verses from the Gospel which dealt with the cure of the boy possessed by a demon which makes him dumb, and throws him constantly into fire and water. Nouwen says: “Two aspects of healing are clear here. First of all, we have to trust in the healer. Jesus says: ‘All things can be done for the one who believes’ (Mk 9:24). Second, the healer must be a person of prayer. When the disciples ask Jesus, ‘Why could we not cast it out?’ Jesus says: ‘This kind can come out only through prayer and fasting’ (Mk 9:29).”

“I am touched”, says Nouwen, “by this mutuality between the healer and the person who needs healing. Healers must be in communion with the source of all life and healing so that they can be true mediators of the healing power, which is larger than themselves. People who seek healing must surrender themselves, trusting that the healer can indeed mediate that healing power to them. The humility of the healer and the faith of the sick person are both central to the work of healing.” (Sabbatical Journey, pg. 103).

This is something which is indeed spiritual, but also at the same time profoundly human and personal. The situation of these precious human beings will require creativity, imagination, trying out programs, and then reflection and evaluation of what we are trying to offer them in order to meet their very personal needs. And the response has to sometimes begin with what is very basic. For example, in the case of the young woman who had been raped by her father and was now about to be thrown out of her shack, the start we made was simple and basic. I found money to have a shack built next to the little home of one of our community home-care nurses who committed herself to look after this young woman so that she could feel safe. (It had to be a shack because it was an illegal squatter camp, and no proper buildings were allowed). It was a beginning, but such a necessary beginning, on the journey to her healing and peace and the possibility of believing that she could live positively with her disease – which she is doing now fairly well, even though some days are “down” days.

But it is particularly when I encounter the children with Aids, the truly “little” ones, that I am especially touched and challenged by the God of Healing in whom I want to believe. I sometimes reflect: will our little children be able to grow to the point of enjoying the innocence of youth which should be theirs, the joy and innocence of being mesmerized as a butterfly alights on a flower, of being able to play and explore and discover and stop still and look up in wonder at a bird in a clear blue sky? The greatest threat to this at present is the Aids pandemic and the poverty and misery which threaten to “break the crushed reed and quench the wavering flame”, to use the beautiful words from Isaiah 42:3 which so poignantly express the reality of these vulnerable little ones of God.

I think of the little ones I know who have torn at my heart as I slowly began to appreciate the depth in their stories…..of little Mmakgosi in our hospice on Christmas morning, her tear-filled eyes looking at me in such helplessness because she wanted to play with her friends but could not because she was too ill; of little Bongani in the shack settlement and his sad little face as he stood alone and watched the other children shout and play – the same little children who had told him not to play with them because they were told he had Aids - and those sad eyes asking those deep questions of me; of little Angela, seeming to have no life, and with the empty eyes which revealed there was something so awful in her story that she could not even get it out….but which we found out later – that she had been raped, and was now HIV positive; of 12 year old Miriam in her torn clothes whose slight frame buckled under the pain and load that was far, far too heavy for her young shoulders to carry because she had lost her mother to Aids – a mother whom she loved and cared for until she died; and now she does not know how to cry about this, and still less how to cope with the awesome task of caring for her little sisters and brother, and the fact that this might mean leaving school and her friends…..

It is these truly human stories of real children which the statistics on this disease hide. We can read over and over again the latest reports and research from bodies like UNAIDS, and the impassioned pleas of someone like Stephen Lewis. Indeed, the statistics are so awful that they can simply numb the mind – almost 40% of the populations of Botswana and Swaziland infected with this virus; 6.4 million in South Africa, with over 1 million Aids orphans; 3 out of every 100 homes in the care of a child with no adult support…….so we can be forgiven for closing our eyes, and shutting our ears, because of the sheer enormity of the problem. The magnitude of what is required can leave one with a sense of helplessness, even hopelessness, frustration and anger.

But, it is when one comes close, when one sits in a zinc shack in the middle of fierce summer heat, and the smell of perspiration, of vomit and diarrhoea is only surpassed by the feeling, almost, the “smell” of fear and despair in the human being lying there……it is when I as a person allow myself to come so close, then open my eyes and try to look into the spirit behind the eyes of the person before me, and try to listen more deeply than simply hearing their words, and try to truly feel what is in their heart……that is when - if I have faith - I can truly see, and hear, and feel God who is present in such suffering as truly as in the beauty of an eagle soaring in the clear air of the mountains. But I know the truth also - I can only do this if I am a contemplative in action; if my response is born out of solitude and prayer - and then moves out in solidarity.

To see and hear and feel God in this way is but the beginning of a more challenging journey. In addition to all the research to find a vaccine and ever more successful anti-retroviral drugs to preserve and protect life; in addition to the wonderful caring programs in homes and in hospices for the dying; in addition to the immensely complex invitation to care for orphaned and vulnerable children in the Aids pandemic…..in addition to so much that is being done in very resource-poor settings by truly extraordinary people of care and love who actually live in such places….in addition to all this, the concern of faith-filled people has to be holistic; it must respond to the whole person.

This must begin with a faith awareness of the mystery that is the whole person before me and what this means for me firstly. In such an encounter I do not come, in the first place, as one what has answers and who can give…..but as one who is in the presence of the sacred in the suffering. I need to feel my own discomfort as I know that my human words may not be adequate; I need to be aware of anything that could be a sign of judgment, of prejudice, of superiority, of not being vulnerable because I am not sick like this person. I need to pray through my feelings and attitudes so that I become aware in faith that what I want to be and do flows out of a profound “being-one-with” this person in our shared humanness, that we are radically one as human persons no matter what path our lives have followed till this moment. I need to live with the tension of not having answers, but only questions, as I try to sense what is going on in the person who cannot even put their questions into words because all they can be is silent in their fear and pain. I need to come as a “wounded healer”, as Henri Nouwen so beautifully reflected in his book of that name.

On that foundation of being a “wounded healer” we can then perhaps respond with a gentleness, sensitivity and holistic care that will reveal and bring the experience of the sacred……as we touch the sacred ground which is the hurting and sick person before us…..and to believe that our God is present and wanting to touch that person and life through us, even with our limitations, with the holistic healing which will free their spirit even as the moment of dying approaches, or free their spirit so that they can live positively with Aids and still contribute so much to people and to life.

I found Henri Nouwen’s reflection on the Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth so meaningful in this context: “Two women who felt oppressed and isolated suddenly realise their greatness and are free to celebrate their blessing. The two of them become community. They need each other, just to be together and protect each other, support each other, and affirm each other. They stay together for three months. Then each of them is ready to face her truth alone, without fear, willing to suffer the consequences of her motherhood.

I can hardly think about a better way to understanding friendship, care, and love than ‘the way of the visitation’. In a world so full of shame and guilt, we need to visit each other and offer each other a safe place where we can claim our freedom and celebrate our gifts. We need to get away once in a while from the suspicious voices and angry looks and be in a place where we are deeply understood and loved. Then we might be able to face the hostile world again, without fear and with new trust in our integrity.” (Sabbatical Journey, pg. 161).

A “SPIRITUALITY” FOR AIDS?

Can we discover and express a “spirituality” for those living with Aids? I believe so, but it is a “spirituality” which we need to search for in stillness, prayer and humility, then try to articulate, and above all try to live in the many encounters of each day with this world of sickness and suffering – and to keep learning from the “living” of this spirituality.

So, what can be done to develop such a “spirituality” as part of a holistic response to the people infected and affected by the virus? One can use a simple research method in an attempt to understand how Aids impacts upon a person’s attitudes, beliefs and way of life in their socio-cultural context. In our context in South Africa, because of negative experiences of stigma, rejection and marginalization, our starting point for developing a spirituality for our people must be their own perceptions about their illness, its impact on them and how they are trying to make sense of what is going on inside of them and in their surroundings. This means we need to take the time to “be with”, to create the conditions and feeling in the other of being in a “safe place” here with me, to allow them their time to find themselves with me, so that slowly they may be able to open up and share when they are able to do so.

The effects on their lives and their difficulty in coping with it also reveal that there are structural or systemic issues around the Aids pandemic which take us to another plane altogether. In the first place the incredible misery of severe physical poverty experienced in a constant lack of food for them and their children, shocking lack of sanitation and clean water, no money for transport to get to a clinic or hospital, and so on and so on. Twenty-two million of our people in South Africa are living like this – and the millions of refugees from other countries only compound the problems of extreme poverty. Time does not allow me to deal with these systemic issues which impact so profoundly on the Aids pandemic in sub-Saharan Africa, and why these nations are forever trapped in a cycle of poverty, and why advocacy on a global scale has to deal with the structural issues of international debt, an unfair global trading system, the agricultural subsidies in the developed nations and so forth – all of which impoverish the poorest and most vulnerable countries on this continent in particular, and in this way contribute to the escalation of the HIV infection rate. So, firstly, the appalling physical poverty and misery whose effects can only be experienced by spending time with our people in their shacks and inadequate housing – and analysing the causes of what we see and experience.

Then, the emotional poverty in the face of their illness which they describe in various terms: anger, breaking down in tears, a feeling of rejection by others, hopelessness, fear, and stigma. They further indicate how this negatively affects their feelings about their own worth as a person and produce a negative self-image. Their stories show how they are fearful of revealing their status to others once they become aware of it because of the stigma, and that many feel a lack of support from their own families and friends. And another fear: fear of the future for themselves and their children.

This emotional poverty is further compounded by what happens to significant relationships in their lives. Many single women try to survive in these shack settlements where we work by entering into “relationships” with “boyfriends” as they are termed. This is because they either do not have Identity Documents, or cannot get them because they are illegal economic refugees - and therefore cannot even access the available Government social grants as a means of surviving. Once they become aware of their status, usually after coming to our clinic where they are able to receive support and continuous counselling, they fear to tell the boyfriends because so often they feel the men are unable to cope with this reality, or they fear they will be rejected and the men will withdraw the financial support and strip their shack (as happens), leaving them and their children in destitution and hunger. Because of these fears, they continue with sexual relations without any discussion with their partners, leading to re-infection and viral load increase. Adults who are infected feel fearful that neighbours on whom they might depend for support will make conclusions about them when they notice they are losing weight or becoming sick.

And finally, their perceptions about Aids and God. Some indicate that Aids is a punishment from God because everything comes from God, and that when a person does wrong God first punishes - and then he may heal. Some perceive God as vengeful, stern and watching out for our mistakes, sins and failures, but others speak of a God of compassion and love, and that prayer can be a support. Is this because of the message they receive from their priests/pastors in their church communities? The faith community needs to humbly and honestly examine whether it is contributing to a solution to the Aids pandemic, or is part of the problem, even if unwittingly. It was interesting to hear how some of our people said they needed to forgive themselves, and wanted to be accepted. They also indicated the need to be humble before God so that they could pray and be healed.

Discerning a possible spirituality for Aids must take account of all these facets of the real life situation of our people, all of them impacting on the whole person.

DEEPENING AN UNDERSTANDING OF THIS “SPIRITUALITY”

The Church’s mission to those living with Aids has to take account of the unconditional response we need to give to all our sick people without distinction. This means we have to take account of where people are, that they may have experienced a journey very different to our own faith journey, that we cannot make any assumptions about their faith or spiritual life, or indeed about anything. We need to meet them where they are…..and carefully discern the “spirituality” or “spiritual” encounter they might need which may open the door to an encounter with the God they believe in, or perhaps do not yet believe in because of what they are struggling with.

One can define spirituality in different ways, but in this context I understand it as that which gives meaning to a person’s life. This can be a faith or belief in a Supreme Being, God, or in an inner Higher Power; it can also be a belief and trust in human relationships, in nature or anything else that can help a person understand and accept their life and present reality in their sickness.

Spirituality can have more than one purpose. But in terms of our topic, I think one important factor in people’s lives is the need to understand their own situation now and make sense of it. Central to all this is the perception that HIV/Aids is caused by immoral behaviour – which could be understood in terms of a Christian morality, or other forms of morality, e.g. African morality systems. That notion of being infected because of immoral behaviour needs to be dealt with, or rather responded to only in the light of how Jesus related to the outcasts and the so-called sinners in the Gospel – and not in terms of any other understanding of morality. Jesus simply asked us not to judge – never.

It is this making sense of what one is feeling and experiencing, the need to experience interconnectedness or relationship with people and everything else, that life and what happens is a whole - it is this which calls for the need to address the spirit dimension of our being, whatever one’s cultural context. Even though I have been dealing with a socio-economic-cultural context of marginalization in general, and an African socio-cultural context in the shack settlements in particular, I believe that the spirit dimension is cross cultural. In other words, that all of us as human beings, whatever one’s belief system or worldview, need to find a way to be still within, to quieten our minds and emotions, and in that stillness to find the way to making sense of what is going on, and to experience that even in the terminal phase of life serenity and peace are indeed possible.

THE “SPIRIT” DIMENSION

The holistic nature of end-of-life care – body, mind and spirit – can find its point of convergence in this awareness: “I am not this cancer of the bone, I am not this leukaemia, I am not this HI Virus or Aids - I am a person”. And then, to extend this awareness to the realisation that I as a person am not separate from the beauty of nature, animals, and all the forms of life that are interconnected in the cosmos. I am part of the One Life, God, that reveals itself in all these different forms – even in my sickness.

In this sense, “spiritual” means regarding everything as sacred and as a way to renew and transform myself within. “Spirituality” is a journey to the awareness of God or our Higher Power, or however the person describes this life-giving inner power, and that in the inner stillness of my being I can discover meaning and the ability to live in the NOW, the ability to be present to myself as a person and to that God/Inner Power in the core of my being, and thus to be able to accept what is, to say “yes” to what is – to say “yes” even to this terminal phase of my journey with all it brings. Spirituality in this sense involves a choice which I am enabled to make in the inner stillness of my being – the choosing to live in this state of presence, presence to my deepest self in which I encounter the God/Inner Power of my life.

The question for us who care, and for our sick people is: How do I find this God, or Inner Power of my life – especially at this time when I am so vulnerable? What we the carers are called to do, is beautifully illustrated by Henri Nouwen in his book The Return of the Prodigal Son: “The question is not ‘How am I to find God?’ but ‘How am I to let myself be found by Him?’……. ’How am I to let myself be loved by God?’ God is looking into the distance for me, trying to find me, and longing to bring me home. …..God is the shepherd who goes looking for his lost sheep. God is the woman who lights a lamp, sweeps out the house, and searches everywhere for her lost coin until she has found it. God is the father who watches and waits for his children, runs out to meet them, embraces them, pleads with them, begs and urges them to come home…..It might sound strange, but God wants to find me as much as, if not more than, I want to find God…..” (The Return of the Prodigal Son, pg. 106).

Such a spirituality needs time, a person needs to grow into it - if it is to be possible at all, and especially if it is to be meaningful. People who are dying, and especially those dying of Aids with so many opportunistic infections and so many worries, and those who accompany them, can often be in pain and “lost” in the deepest sense of that term. Their minds and hearts can be filled with fears, questioning and perceptions with their different cultural dimensions. A spirituality that is meaningful should enable them in their time to “let go” of the past and what is pre-occupying them, their possible fear of the future (and perceptions and beliefs around what happens at death and afterwards), so that they can gradually accept and deal with the present pain – and move towards surrender. For this to happen, those who share the journey with them are crucial.

The feeling of being “accompanied” which we try to offer to those infected and affected by Aids can be a real help to enable them gradually to “let go” and to realise that nothing – nothing that has ever happened in the past or could still happen – nothing can touch the sacredness of who they are as a person, a precious human being whom God and we truly love. And the goal is to live each moment in the present in that awareness.

I also think this spirituality is crucial for our carers. Caring for the carers, the availability of counselling and spiritual accompaniment in critical times, is increasingly necessary as we, the carers, accompany and share the journey with our people who are dying. In our hospice, where over 300 people and children have died during the first two years of its ministry, I have seen the stress and pain in the eyes and faces and tears of our carers and professional nurses. To watch a child die is excruciating for these wonderful people who often are mothers themselves, and who possess an extraordinary capacity to love.

On one occasion a 9 year old boy was discharged from the town hospital and was picked up in our home-care network. He was dying of Aids, he had meningitis, he was partially deaf and had just recently turned blind. I was in our hospice when he was brought in and he turned over on his side in the bed in a foetal position – completely silent. However, with the wonderful love and care from the nursing staff he began to change, and after few days he was a different boy. We then learnt how intelligent he was as he started talking. One day he said: “It is so nice here. Every morning the sisters wash me and I have new clean sheets. The food is so good - and they love me.” But we had to watch him going down in spite of all we did, even though it was clear he felt safe and cared for. Within the space of a few hours a one-month old girl died of Aids and this little boy died as well. I so remember the pain and sense of helplessness in the professional nurse on duty, In addition to my care for her, I also called in our priest, a specialist linguist, who is available to the staff. He talked her through the experience and helped her to focus on how the love and care they - and she - constantly give and share in such deeply human ways had truly healed that little boy before he died. That quality of love has an altogether different power because it is of the spirit, a spiritual power to heal and bring peace – it is of God.

Holistic Care – Body, Mind, Spirit – is as relevant to the sacredness and mystery of the personhood of our carers as it is for our sick people. Holistic care for our carers is so necessary if they are to remain nourished in their spirit so that they can touch the pain of our people with the healing power, compassion and love of the God/Higher Power who works through them.

As we consider the many clinical, scientific, psycho-social aspects of terminal illness and holistic care in this terrible Aids pandemic, I am simply sharing with you from my heart what I have learnt from so many precious, vulnerable and poor people with whom I have been privileged to minister for these past 15 years. In our striving to provide the best possible care in all its dimensions to those in our care, I recognise that something must inspire this care; that in the moment of our meeting or encounter with them this thought or inspiration must move us: As I meet this person or child, whatever his or her life has brought to them, I am in a sacred space and moment, and my first call is to reverence them for who they are – because God is in them, and in their suffering. As Paul Claudel reflected: “Jesus did not come to explain away suffering or remove it. He came to fill it with his presence.” That is the mystery which we must incarnate in human terms.

CONCLUSION

I came across a reflection which began thus:

We are all faced with great opportunities brilliantly disguised as impossible situations.

The writer went on to tell a story based on a verse from Malachi 3:3 - "He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver."

This verse puzzled some women in a Bible study and they wondered what this statement meant about the character and nature of God. One of the women offered to find out the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible study.

That week, the woman called a silversmith and made an appointment to watch him at work. She didn't mention anything about the reason for her interest beyond her curiosity about the process of refining silver.

As she watched the silversmith, he held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest so as to burn away all the impurities.

The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot; then she thought again about the verse that says: "He sits as a refiner and purifier of silver."

She asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined. The man answered that yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. If the silver was left a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed.

The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silversmith, "How do you know when the silver is fully refined?" He smiled at her and answered, "Oh, that's easy - when I see my image in it."

The writer concluded: “If today you are feeling the heat of the fire, remember that God has His eye on you and will keep watching you until He sees His image in you”.

I experience this as a personal call to me, and to those with whom I work as we accompany people who are moving towards the moment of death from an Aids-defining disease. The pain and questions I share with the vulnerable and sick, my tears which well up as I look into the eyes of a child who is dying, struggling to breathe….all this is like a searing flame in my heart and spirit, burning the “silver” which is me. In stillness, silence and prayer I need to feel the heat of that fire, and come to the awareness that God is looking at me, God has his eye on me, and through the pain I share with my people, I can grow to feel God is keeping watch until, ever so gradually, God sees his image in me – if I have the faith to see and feel this.

And as we hold the hand of a sick and dying woman, as we hug a little boy and hold him close, as we listen to them, as we speak to them, that is also our aim…….that in some way, even in the heat of their pain, they can come to believe and experience how precious they are to us and to God, that the love, care, compassion and “being with” them is real experience of Emmanuel - of “God-being-with-them”, of “God-being-in them”; that God sees His image in them, and that they will in some way hear God’s words: “Have no fear; I am with you; you are coming home to me”.

I end with words from Henri Nouwen which, for me, shine a light so simple and clear upon the experience of my own journey with God and the sick and dying, and the carers, in the Aids pandemic – the value of the life of a human being. He writes about his work to prepare the foreword to Jonas’ book, Rebecca: A Father’s Journey from Grief to Gratitude. Rebecca, the daughter of Jonas, was born prematurely, and lived just 3 hours and forty-four minutes and then died in Jonas’ arms. I let Henri speak:
“His grief was immense, but his willingness to let his pain lead him to gratitude was there also from the very beginning…….Rebecca lived only three hours and forty-four minutes. She was too fragile, too little to open her eyes. But Jonas’ great spiritual vision allowed him to see that the value of life is not dependent on the hours, days, or years it is lived, nor the number of people it was connected to, nor on the impact it had on human history. Jonas ‘saw’ that the value of life is life itself and that the few hours of Rebecca’s life were as worthy to be lived as the many hours of the lives of Beethoven, Chagall, Gandhi, yes, even Jesus”. (Sabbatical Journey, pg. 48).

Thank you.

Bishop Kevin Dowling