From the window of my cell, while writing this reflection, I could see different colours and sizes of birds on the roof of the Gesù Church, the mother church of the Society of Jesus. Unexpectedly, Rome, a city that welcomes 25,000 international tourists daily, has no visitors. Musicians and artists along the streets have disappeared, vehicles make no honk, every shop is closed, except supermarkets and pharmacies. With the lockdown order, the tomb of St Ignatius Loyola at the Gesù has remained unvisited and the relic of the right hand of St Francis Xavier has been elevated as if to bless all those who are suffering mentally and physically. Some of our brothers spend time in the personal room of St Ignatius, then usually crowded but now empty. Public masses are cancelled and yet churches are open for private prayer. The city has become a desert. Like the Israelites in the desert, everyone remains in the tent. Each time a person goes out, s/he has to complete a self-authorisation form indicating an indispensable reason: essential work, or to buy medicine or food.

We are in self-imposed exile in our tents. Our tent is called the Collegio Internazionale del Gesù. There are 55 Jesuits, hailing from all over the world and primarily studying the first cycle of theology at the Gregorian University. The oxygen of a Jesuit community life is cura personalis. St Ignatius rightly said, “Love ought to show itself in deeds than in words.” Through the care and love of the community, we have daily bread and wine on the altar and the table to nourish us spiritually and physically. They are like the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night that guided the Israelites during their exodus from Egyptian bondage. They accompany us during our period of self-imposed exile. While remaining in gratitude for the nourishment, our hearts beat for the hungry and the poor, who are indirectly affected due to the hoarding of food by some greedy people.

The Jesuit community of Collegio Internazionale del Gesù in December 2019

There are several community meetings relating to Covid-19. Successively, there is social distancing of a metre from one another. The seating position in the chapel, dining hall and common places are rearranged. Words of encouragement to stay healthy are heard frequently. The community life sails on with various activities to make us strong and fit psychologically, physically, and spiritually. Amidst the virus outbreak, some of our daily vaccines are the celebration of the community Mass, prayer and lunch, and a weekly formation programme. They bring us into a union of minds and hearts. In addition, we have a few recreational activities like dominoes, cards, poetry, ping-pong, chess, football-table, theology café, etc. Thanks to the legacy and gift of Fr Pedro Arrupe SJ, he transformed the then house garden into a sportsground for the scholastics. During these quarantined days, this courtyard is the crucial place where we can walk or run, play badminton or cricket.

Though the university is closed, the professors take class online while a few of them send us their recorded voice or PowerPoint presentations. Zoom seems to be preferred for video conferencing class. There are ample materials to read, reflect on, and write about. Indeed, it is a challenge to be inside the room always. Blaise Pascal said, “All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” Nevertheless, every hour, I take a short walk in the corridor. During my prayer and walk, I often ponder about the mystery of suffering. With the repeatedly passing sound of the ambulance siren, our hearts sink into deep thoughts about the uncertainty of life and the compassionate providence of God, while our lips often mumble a prayer for the one who is being taken towards the hospital. In the evening, looking down from my window, I often see some of ours walking and running in the sportsground, unexpectedly looking towards the sky as if to plead to God, “O God, come to our assistance; O Lord make haste to help us.” (Ps 69:2)

We shall remain strong, for our God does not sleep or take rest. Amidst the burning incense in front of the Blessed Sacrament, we shall continue to kneel and sometimes shed some tears, with deep faith and hope that the passion always ends with the resurrection. Although it is not yet Holy Week, we are experiencing Good Friday and Holy Saturday. Now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:13) Our faith and hope in God will keep us alive during this critical time and the love (cura personalis) of each member in the community will be our co-pilgrim during this journey.