11 February 2023
“Take care of him”
Compassion as a synodal exercise of healing
Dear brothers and sisters!
Illness is part of our human condition. Yet, if illness is experienced
in isolation and abandonment, unaccompanied by care and compassion, it can
become inhumane.
When we go on a journey with others, it is not unusual for someone to
feel sick, to have to stop because of fatigue or of some mishap along the
way. It is precisely in such moments
that we see how we are walking together: whether we are truly companions on the
journey, or merely individuals on the same path, looking after our own
interests and leaving others to “make do”. For this reason, on the thirty-first
World Day of the Sick, as the whole Church journeys along the synodal path, I
invite all of us to reflect on the fact that it is especially through the
experience of vulnerability and illness that we can learn to walk together
according to the style of God, which is closeness, compassion, and tenderness.
In the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel, the Lord speaks these words that
represent one of the high points of God’s Revelation: “I myself will be the
shepherd of my sheep, and I will make them lie down,says the Lord God.. I will
seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the
injured, and I will strengthen the weak […] I will feed them with justice”
(34:15-16). Experiences of bewilderment, sickness, and weakness are part of the
human journey. Far from excluding us from God’s people, they bring us to the
centre of the Lord’s attention, for he is our Father and does not want to lose
even one of his children along the way. Let us learn from him, then, how to be
a community that truly walks together, capable of resisting the throwaway
culture.
The Encyclical Fratelli Tutti encourages us to read anew the parable of
the Good Samaritan, which I chose in order to illustrate how we can move from
the “dark clouds” of a closed world to “envisaging and engendering an open
world” (cf. No. 56). There is a profound link between this parable of Jesus and
the many ways in which fraternity is denied in today’s world. In particular,
the fact that the man, beaten and robbed, is abandoned on the side of the road
represents the condition in which all too many of our brothers and sisters are
left at a time when they most need help. It is no longer easy to distinguish
the assaults on human life and dignity that arise from natural causes from
those caused by injustice and violence. In fact, increasing levels of
inequality and the prevailing interests of the few now affect every human
environment to the extent that it is difficult to consider any experience as
having solely “natural” causes. All suffering takes place in the context of a
“culture” and its various contradictions.
Here it is especially important to recognize the condition of loneliness
and abandonment. This kind of cruelty can be overcome more easily than any
other injustice, because – as the parable tells us – it only takes a moment of
our attention, of being moved to compassion within us, in order to eliminate
it. Two travellers, considered pious and religious, see the wounded man, yet
fail to stop. The third passer-by, however, a Samaritan, a scorned foreigner,
is moved with compassion and takes care of that stranger on the road, treating
him as a brother. In doing so, without even thinking about it, he makes a
difference, he makes the world more fraternal.
Brothers and sisters, we are rarely prepared for illness. Oftentimes, we
fail even to admit that we are getting older. Our vulnerability frightens us
and the pervasive culture of efficiency pushes us to sweep it under the carpet,
leaving no room for our human frailty. In this way, when evil bursts onto the
scene and wounds us, we are left stunned. Moreover, others might abandon us at
such times. Or, in our own moments of weakness, we may feel that we should
abandon others in order to avoid becoming a burden. This is how loneliness sets
in, and we can become poisoned by a bitter sense of injustice, as if God
himself had abandoned us. Indeed, we may find it hard to remain at peace with
the Lord when our relationship with others and with ourselves is damaged. It is
crucial, then, even in the midst of illness, that the whole Church measure
herself against the Gospel example of the Good Samaritan, in order that she may
become a true “field hospital”, for her mission is manifested in acts of care,
particularly in the historical circumstances of our time. We are all fragile
and vulnerable, and need that compassion which knows how to pause, approach,
heal, and raise up. Thus, the plight of the sick is a call that cuts through
indifference and slows the pace of those who go on their way as if they had no sisters
and brothers.
The World Day of the Sick calls for prayer and closeness towards those
who suffer. Yet it also aims to raise the awareness of God’s people, healthcare
institutions and civil society with regard to a new way of moving forward
together. The above-quoted prophecy of Ezekiel judges harshly the priorities of
those who wield economic, cultural, and political power over others: “You eat
the fat, you clothe yourselves with the wool, you slaughter the fatlings; but
you do not feed the sheep. You have not strengthened the weak, you have not
healed the sick, you have not bound up the injured, you have not brought back
the strayed, you have not sought the lost, but with force and harshness you
have ruled them” (34:3-4). God’s word is always illuminating and timely; not
only in what it denounces, but also in what it proposes. Indeed, the conclusion
of the parable of the Good Samaritan suggests how the exercise of fraternity,
which began as a face-to-face encounter, can be expanded into organized care.
The elements of the inn, the innkeeper, the money and the promise to remain
informed of the situation (cf. Lk 10:34-35) all point to the commitment of
healthcare and social workers, family members and volunteers, through whom good
stands up in the face of evil every day, in every part of the world.
These past years of the pandemic have increased our sense of gratitude
for those who work each day in the fields of healthcare and research. Yet it is
not enough to emerge from such an immense collective tragedy simply by
honouring heroes. Covid-19 has strained the great networks of expertise and
solidarity, and has exposed the structural limits of existing public welfare
systems. Gratitude, then, needs to be
matched by actively seeking, in every country, strategies and resources in
order to guarantee each person’s fundamental right to basic and decent
healthcare.
The Samaritan calls the innkeeper to “take care of him” (Lk 10:35).
Jesus addresses the same call to each of us. He exhorts us to “go and do
likewise” (Lk 10:37). As I noted in Fratelli Tutti, “The parable shows us how a
community can be rebuilt by men and women who identify with the vulnerability
of others, who reject the creation of a society of exclusion, and act instead
as neighbours, lifting up and rehabilitating the fallen for the sake of the
common good” (No. 67). Indeed, “we were created for a fulfilment that can only
be found in love. We cannot be indifferent to suffering” (No. 68).
On 11 February 2023, let us turn our thoughts to the Shrine of Lourdes,
a prophetic lesson entrusted to the Church for our modern times. It is not only
what functions well or those who are productive that matter. Sick people, in
fact, are at the centre of God’s people, and the Church advances together with
them as a sign of a humanity in which everyone is precious and no one should be
discarded or left behind.
To the intercession of Mary, Health of the Sick, I entrust all of you
who are ill; you who care for them in your families, or through your work,
research and volunteer service; and those of you who are committed to weaving
personal, ecclesial, and civic bonds of fraternity. To all, I impart my
heartfelt blessing.
Rome, Saint John Lateran, 10 January 2023
FRANCIS