'Am I my brothers' keeper?'

When God asks Cain about Abel’s absence in Genesis 4:9, Cain responds, “I do not know. Am I my brother’s keeper?” and evades having to answer truthfully that he had killed his own brother out of anger and jealousy. And yet as Christians, we are called to watch over and care for our brothers and sisters, to be their keeper. Christ commanded us to model his sacrificial love, “Love one another as I love you” (John 15:12).

Over the past year and a half, our normal way of life faced great hardships because of the coronavirus pandemic. Throughout the world, family life, work, school, recreation and even worship were greatly affected. We suddenly realized what really matters to us in life.

The Approaching Storm
In March of 2020, perhaps Pope Francis’s extraordinary Urbi et Orbi (to the City of Rome and to the World) showed just how different the world had become. The world saw an elderly pope dressed in his white cassock, walking up the steps, alone, in the light rain under a darkening sky, reaching the solitary podium and turning to address an unfamiliar sight, not thousands of people waiting to see and hear him, but instead St. Peter’s Square empty of flashing cameras from tourists but instead reflecting off the rain-soaked pavement the flashing blue lights from the police cars outside Vatican City.
“For weeks now it has been evening,” said Pope Francis. “Thick darkness has gathered over our squares, our streets and our cities; it has taken over our lives, filling everything with a deafening silence and a distressing void, that stops everything as it passes by; we feel it in the air, we notice it in people’s gestures, their glances give them away.”

The television cameras broadcasted such a powerful moment. No Oscar-winning director could have scripted and directed a more powerful cinematic image. Though separated from one another throughout the world, for a moment there was a sense of being together, united by Christ and filled with the light of hope in the midst of darkness. We were in the boat with Christ being tossed about by a pandemic storm with waves of uncertainty engulfing both the boat and our spirits, but at that moment came a sense of peace and comfort.

Pope Francis encouraged the world, “From this colonnade that embraces Rome and the whole world, may God’s blessing come down upon you as a consoling embrace. Lord, may you bless the world, give health to our bodies and comfort our hearts. You ask us not to be afraid. Yet our faith is weak and we are fearful. But you, Lord, will not leave us at the mercy of the storm. Tell us again: ‘Do not be afraid’ (Matthew 28:5). And we, together with Peter, ‘cast all our anxieties onto you, for you care about us’ (cf. 1 Peter 5:7).”  We would be able to weather the approaching storm.

The Italian Experience
As this storm moved throughout the world, countries began to lockdown with people sheltering in place. In Italy, we were mandated to remain in our own dwellings for what ended up being a total of eight weeks, with periodic lockdowns throughout the next year, especially at Christmas and Easter. The effects of the virus were devastating to the people and their carefree life in Italy.

Having lived in Rome for five years as a seminarian and now for five more as a faculty member, I always thought Italy was a country filled with hypochondriacs. God forbid a person opens a window to let cool air into a sweltering classroom or cramped public bus. You are treated as though you just invited a serial killer into the place. Frantic outbursts of “Mal aria!” (“Evil air!”) or “Mal fagato!” (“Liver pain!”) ring out as the Italians instinctively raised their shirt collars around their necks or hugged their chests to prevent this unwanted breath from the Angel of Death claiming his next victim. They insisted this cold draft would get them sick, and they might even die. If just this action causes fear, then a true pandemic would trigger greater anxieties.

When the pandemic affected Italy and the death toll quickly rose, the government officials immediately put the country into lockdown. Non-essential businesses closed; foreign tourists and students quickly boarded flights home; in-person classes were suspended; and even the Catholic Church stopped celebrating public Masses by the order of the Diocese of Rome. The virus and its effects were such an unknown that there was a pervading thought that even leaving your home might be a deadly act. It was as though the virus lurked around every corner and waited to attack its next victim like a pack of rabid wolves. Fear perhaps became an unlikely ally in complying with the mandates until a vaccine could be produced.

Living in a foreign country has perhaps given me a different perspective on the pandemic and the measures taken to combat it and helped to temper my American understanding of freedom and liberty. When the reality of the increasing numbers of those contracting and those dying from COVID-19 were broadcast each day, the Italians were willing to heed the various directives issued—mask mandates, sheltering in place, etc. It was less a political issue and more about what was good for all. Italians were willing to forego some of the usual activities in order to save the lives of their older citizens and support the common good.

Vaccine for the Common Good
It is from the viewpoint of the common good—that which is necessary to promote the good of all—that the church has responded to the pandemic. It is why various measures were taken in dioceses throughout the world—from temporarily suspending the celebration of public Masses and dispensing from the Sunday obligation, to gathering with social distancing and face coverings, to unconventional locations to celebrate the sacraments. Many facets of our lives became altered because of the pandemic, including the practice our faith—how many of us entered the church, squirted hand sanitizer and then absentmindedly made the sign of the cross, forgetting it was not holy water? How we longed to get back to normal, but that normalcy requires extra effort and sacrifices.
To protect others from the deadly effects of COVID-19, especially the elderly and those with underlying medical conditions, Pope Francis has encouraged people to be vaccinated for the sake of the common good. During an interview in January, Pope Francis suggested that people have a moral duty to receive a COVID vaccine, “It’s an ethical action, because you are gambling with your health, you are gambling with your life, but you are also gambling with the lives of others. I’ve signed up [to receive the vaccine]. One must do it.” 

Some concerns arose about the vaccines’ development through cells from aborted children and their possible adverse effects (See Father Brice Higginbotham’s article in the February 2021 Bayou Catholic “Questions of Faith” column). Earlier in December of 2020, the Vatican’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), issued a statement that it was “morally acceptable” for Catholics to take the vaccines. Both Pope Francis and Pope Emeritus Benedict received the Pfizer vaccine in mid-January.

Archbishop Vincenzo Paglia, the president of the Pontifical Academy for Life, which is composed of academic experts dedicated to promoting the church’s consistent life ethic and doing related research in bioethics and Catholic moral theology, organized the International Roundtable on Vaccination with the Academy, the World Medical Association, and the German Medical Association attending. At the press conference on July 1, 2021, Archbishop Paglia noted that both his bioethics academy and the Vatican’s doctrine office have declared COVID-19 vaccines safe, effective and ethical.

By mid-August, approximately 70 percent of the Italian population over 12 years old have received their first dose with about 65 percent being fully vaccinated as compared to about 40 percent of the population in Terrebonne, Lafourche and St. Mary parishes receiving their first dose and 31 percent being fully vaccinated. Because Italians are seemingly social by nature, most Italians were looking forward to getting the vaccine if it meant getting back to a normal way of life with family gatherings, having meals together, going to church, and attending sporting events.

Matter of Conscience
While some people throughout the world are choosing to be vaccinated, others are not. The issue then arises between voluntarily choosing or mandating to be vaccinated. This is where the matter of conscience enters the decision. The church upholds the person’s right to follow his or her own conscience; however, we are obligated to have a correctly formed conscience.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church states, “Conscience must be informed and moral judgment enlightened. A well-formed conscience is upright and truthful. It formulates its judgments according to reason, in conformity with the true good willed by the wisdom of the Creator. The education of conscience is indispensable for human beings who are subjected to negative influences and tempted by sin to prefer their own judgment and to reject authoritative teachings” (1783).

Perhaps there has been some difficulty forming the conscience to choose to be vaccinated or not. There are many “voices” forming the conscience, but not all “voices” are created equal or are competent to form the mind and heart. The internet and social media have given voice to the voiceless, but some voices should remain silent. Just because some people love to sing, that doesn’t mean they can. Our friend’s latest vaccine information they read from Snip-N-Clip medical blog is not the same as our doctor’s recommendation. Our own doctor knows our medical conditions and whether we should take or refrain from the vaccine.

We have entered a crisis of credibility. In the past, people looked to leaders in established institutions—churches, governments, schools and universities, and the media—for guidance and direction. Because of scandals, corruption and partisan politics, people question and doubt the voices in these institutions unless they agree with their own position. The great question becomes, “Whom do I believe?”

These platforms have allowed a world to be connected and can bring about much good and knowledge; however, they also contain many harmful things and untruths. A person can find any opinion and information to support what he or she believes, but not every blog, social media post, or “news” story carries the same weight. How discerning are we with what we read? Is it fact or opinion? What are the credentials of the person posting the information?

How we answer these questions will tell how we form our conscience. We might be true to our conscience, but we can still be in error because we may be ignorant of the truth or the information we hold as true is objectively false. In other words, we can be misinformed (see further CCC 1790-1794).

To get the vaccine or not may be a difficult choice but there is a principle for us to follow. We are reminded, “Man is sometimes confronted by situations that make moral judgments less assured and decision difficult. But he must always seriously seek what is right and good, and discern the will of God expressed in divine law” (CCC 1787).

We must ask ourselves: What is the right thing to do? What is the common good? What is God’s will? It takes study, prayer and reflection. This is how I decided to choose to get the vaccine. While I had tested positive for COVID in January, I determined after consultation with competent medical authorities that getting the vaccine was for the greater common good and would not compromise my own health. I live in a seminary with many others, attend various public gatherings, reside in a foreign country and would not want to be a burden to their health system, and am called on to minister to the elderly and others with vulnerable health situations. If I did not get vaccinated, then I would take every precaution to prevent others from getting sick. I have a moral obligation. Having known others who were sick and others who have died from the virus and the effects on their families, I do not want to be the cause of another’s illness or, God forbid, death.

Yes, I am my brothers’ and sisters’ keeper. Aren’t we all?