One word that has been repeated in countless news stories covering the outbreak of coronavirus in Europe : unprecedented.
In the modern world, the current predicament seems to be an unprecedented set of circumstances.
Compared to history however, the spread of this contagious disease has many parallels with other crises from the past, even if it has its own peculiar character and idiosyncrasies like any major event in history.
One parallel that has been drawn between these past few weeks and those of the past, is with regards to how Medieval society confronted the spectre of the plague which ripped through the continent for much of the Middle Ages. Medieval Europe was , as we know, Catholic. And Catholic in a way that we have certainly forgotten how to be since, by letting their vibrant faith shape the imaginations of community, architecture and annual festivals.
When plague hit the city of Milan in 1576, it infested the the city right up until the feast of St. Sebastian in January 1578. 15% of its population died during this time, a sum total of 17,000 people. Shops were closed, hospitals filled up, the economy faced ruin. Sound familiar?
The seminal figure during these troubled times was Carlo Borromeo, the famous cardinal later to be declared a saint. Showing true leadership, he sold his possessions in order to help the sick and more importantly, he risked his own life by visiting them to tend to their needs. Perhaps most memorable however, were his provocative processions through the streets of Milan. Leading the faithful, a barefoot Borromeo wore a noose around his neck as a sorrowful penitential. The town was filled with those who were inspired by his example and wanted to follow him through the city. Some whipped themselves in penance as they processed. At one point, Borromeo cut his bare toe on a railing made of iron and kept walking as it dripped blood, desiring as he did to set an example to the sinners who looked on.
His public displays of brutal piety were not the only acts of this holy man. The spiritual elements were incredibly important too. The Holy Nail, the relic of Christ’s crucifixion, was processed to the various Churches in the city. Believing that Christ had truly become flesh and dwelt among us, this is something that has the power to transform us if we allow it to, especially in our own time. One can see the transformative power of Christ’s humanity in the spiritual wonderlands found everywhere from the healing waters at Lourdes to the field hospitals of missionaries in the depths of Africa.
Like many saints, Borromeo called on Our Lady’s help during this bleak and trying time. He sung the Ave Maria during the seven canonical hours and instructed the people of Milan to respond in kind to the bells of the same prayer, either with musical instruments or through spoken prayer. Loud enough for all to hear. The vibrancy and imagination of these actions are alien to the Church of 2020, which has grown accustomed to recoiling and hiding her true face for fear of the world’s scoffing. Without pointing fingers, most can agree that such consideration of beauty has been forgotten in the past number of years. On St. Patrick’s Day this year, many churches in Ireland rung their bells to honour St. Patrick and to honour God at a time when many cannot attend Mass. A small gesture, but one that nonetheless carried with it a reminder that bringing Christ to people need not always involve arguments or dramatic examples, just faithful witness to our own faith.
Of all these bold and sincere statements of public faith, the boldest of all was in bringing forth a visible public faith. Borromeo had seen Milan deserted by the wealthy who fled elsewhere and had been disappointed by the merchants who were more concerned with profits than with their fellow citizens. Ignoring advice to withhold processions for fear of contagion, Borromeo decided that it was more important to bring a sense of community and togetherness about, without which the plague could not be defeated. He organised food for those in need, spared no expense in selling his own possessions to make sure that people had sufficient supplies. One doctor who has initially warned against marching in the processions was so inspired by the brash display of faith that he wrote:
Those who are not in favour [of processions] think that it will avoid a great unruly multitude of people in the midst of this highly dangerous contagion. But I am of the opinion that we should not abandon the idea for that reason… Who could think, as a faithful Christian, that if the people go to worship the Holy Sacrament with devotion, weeping and praying for grace, that they would succumb to plague?
The public authorities were warning against the dangers but for the faithful, showing fidelity to Christ took precedence. There was more than one authority in this world, certainly one higher than temporal powers who come and go with the years. Publicly bringing together people like this was not done in some impulsive religious fervour, the aforementioned prayers would be assisted during quarantine from the windows by clergy, in between distributing prayer books and song sheets to follow the prayer. What transpired was a rising in spirit, a city slowly transformed by the example of their priests, from the smallest scale to the largest. As one account at the time put it:
When the plague began to grow, this practice [of singing the litanies in public] was interrupted, so as not to allow the congregations to provide it more fuel. The orations did not stop, however, because each person stood in his house at the window or door and made them from there
Just think, in walking around Milan, one heard nothing but song, veneration of God, and supplication to the saints, such that one almost wished for these tribulations to last longer.
The whole city eventually became enraptured with this hopeful spirit.
Milan might at this time have been not unfitly compared to a cloister of religious of both sexes serving God in the inclosure [sic] of their cells, an image of the heavenly Jerusalem filled with the praises of the angelic hosts
In essence, this was a simple set of decisions to perform simple acts of faith and to perform them well. Carrying relics, marching in procession and helping the faithful to pray and partake. What made it extraordinary was the faith behind it, Borromeo really believed that these actions could make a difference. The entire city was transformed by action, by prayer and by the examples set to them. During this time of great uncertainty, what is needed more than ever is a sense that the Church believes in the extraordinary healing of Christ and in the power of being a Church who prays together. We are already hearing reports of priests dying in Italy while tending to their parishioners. Footage has circulated of priests carrying the Blessed Sacrament through the streets. The strength is there and the faith is there, with Holy Week approaching, bishops and priests need not be afraid to show dramatic examples that fortify the faithful.
When the plague broke out once again in 1630, the Milanese dug up the body of Borromeo and brought it on procession with them. While we should probably refrain from that this time, there is no reason as to why we should not resurrect the spirit of Milan from the 1500s. Let our streets sound like ones filled with joyful people of faith, let our clergy resemble apostles of Christ and let our relics and holy objects be treated as they are, as physical proof of the world transformed by the Word made flesh dwelling among us.
Catholics should never be passive in the face of a crisis. Help your neighbours, feed those in need and most importantly, pray for the help of God in this hour. The same one who created both you and the world around you from nothing.
Seek ye therefore first the kingdom of God, and his justice, and all these things shall be added unto you.
