In a year when the world was turned topsy-turvy by a microbe that created a global pandemic, there was only one constant and that constant was the presence of God. It may seem strange to start this article with a statement like this, but as I reflected on the happenings throughout the entire year, I realised that this is indeed true.
The first case of COVID-19 in Singapore was detected in late January 2020. Then, the disease did not even have a name. Soon a cluster was formed, comprising tourists from China and locals who had interacted with these tourists. We were blessed to have national leaders who were quick to recognise a situation that could evolve into a pandemic. A multi-ministry taskforce was set up to deal with it, with daily updates disseminated to the general public.
Even so, there were confusion and fear. We knew there was a highly infectious virus lurking around but we did not know how dangerous it was. Then cases of infected patients being put on oxygen support due to breathing difficulty were reported. In the news also, were reports of wide-spread infection among church goers in South Korea. We had our own handful of church-goers and church workers among those infected.
On 14 Feb 2020, church leaders in Singapore announced the closure of churches. I was at the evening Mass when the announcement was made. I sat frozen at the pew, feeling numb – is this for real? Never before have the church been closed, so how could this happen? News spread like wild fire, by the time I got home family members were already in the know as they had received text messages from friends and church contacts.
Masses celebrated by our Archbishop began to be livestreamed every day. I participated in these but did not feel comfortable initially. In early April, a 4-week (later extended by another 4 weeks) “circuit-breaker” controlled lockdown was implemented where only people providing essential services were allowed to go to work. The rest were to work from home. Schools were also shut and online learning began. The first couple of weeks were very surreal – there was a peaceful yet weird silence about the neighbourhood.
By this time, I had become comfortable with online Masses, and had used it as a pillar to separate my morning routine from my afternoon routine. I was able to spend more time praying, reflecting and reading. The ultimate experience happened on Maundy Thursday. I had spent my usual one-hour before the altar of repose after the online Mass of the Last Supper.
Fifteen minutes before mid-night, I tuned in again to participate in the final minutes of adoration. I was curious to find out what happened at mid-night. The priest, accompanied by a server, said a few short prayers, then he extinguished the candles. When he switched off the lights and the church was in total darkness, an acute sense of deep remorse rushed through me and reduced me to tears. It suddenly dawned on me that it was my sin that had put Jesus in that spot. He didn’t have to do this for me. What have I done to deserve such love and sacrifice?
To rub salt into wound, I was about to turn my back on him just like all his friends did when he was arrested. Added to my sense of guilt was the fact that I was about to go sleep in a comfortable bed while he would be left all alone in the dark. Although the livestream had ended, I could not bring myself to leave my prayer room. I stayed on, weeping for the most part, and asking the Lord for forgiveness for all my sins. I finally crawled into bed with a sense of sorrow and profound gratitude.
I woke up in the morning experiencing an inner peace that I had not experienced in a long time. I participated in the rest of the Easter Triduum services with a renewed purpose and joy. Although the congregation could not gather physically together in Church, somehow there was a sense of togetherness, an acknowledgement that we were all praying as one throughout the nation.
There was a hope and a belief that things could only get better, even though there was a huge spike in Covid-19 cases, particularly among the migrant workers community. It took several months and plenty of efforts from various individuals, communities and government agencies to contain the outbreak.
During the pandemic, the true colours of humanity was in stark display. There was the dark side, such as the selfish hoarding of essential items and shunning of healthcare workers. But the bright side far outshone the dark. Young mothers got together to make, bottle and distribute hand sanitiser. University students using their limited resources to cook for and distribute breakfast to the elderly who were homebound. Many men and women sewing and distributing face masks. And the list goes on. God made man to be good, and this goodness stayed on in many of us.
As the year 2020 comes to an end the pandemic is far from over and there are many challenges ahead. However, if we allow God to work in our lives and purposefully spend time in prayer and reflection, we can trust that some good will come out of this overwhelming situation. We just can’t see it and we don’t know and don’t understand yet what it is.