Though I never anticipated revisiting the subject of physics after that grueling summer course in college, I have recently been reminded of Newton’s First Law of Motion and how it continues to play out in my life. However, instead of hypothetical problems and lifeless formulas consisting of letters and numbers, I am confronted with real-life situations and living variables made of persons, places, and things. And in light of this dynamic physical and metaphysical universe, physics takes on a whole new meaning.
For those of you who also threw your physics book out the window after the last day of class and don’t remember, Newton’s “Law of Inertia” is often summarized as: an object at rest stays at rest and an object in motion stays in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force.” Most of us know inertia is real- that standstill resulting from a setback, that paralyzing force designed to hold us down and prevent us from encountering the unbalanced Force that will free us from inertia’s lifelessness. At the same time, the uninspiring and monotonous movement and lack of direction of “going through the motions” places us on a never-ending and destination-less trajectory of hopelessness. It is only in letting go of ourselves that we come to know and love more fully this unbalanced Force that changes our speed, our direction, and ultimately our destination.
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Christ has no body…but yours.
One morning a call comes in from one of the rural health posts six hours up-river. Time already has us falling behind. A middle-aged woman recently turned mother has been bitten by a venomous snake. Though she was bitten yesterday evening, she only now was able to find her way to the health post. The time gap grows even wider. The health post has no snake anti-venom and they request we bring some vials to give her as we pick her up to bring her to the hospital in Santa Clotilde. Shortly after, we set out on the “hidroambulancia,” or the ambulance boat. As we pass miles of lush forest canopy and traverse the winding Napo River at a pace of 40 km/hour, no amount of engine revving can make up for the lost time. An unbalanced Force continues moving us forward despite the opposing current of the river. In passing each riparian community along the way, I am reminded of all of the patients who have traveled this same path in hope of healing. Six hours later we arrive in the small town of Angoteros.
When the boat finally comes to a stop I am told the border with Ecuador lies just a few hours away. But my geographical curiosity is suddenly overcome with worry as a group of men run down the hill carrying a motionless woman on a stretcher. We are informed that she has been vomiting blood and is no longer responsive. A quick check of her vital signs tells us she is “stable.” However, “stability” takes on an entirely different meaning on a narrow speed boat in the middle of the jungle five hours away from the nearest hospital. Equipped with two liters of normal saline, four vials of anti-venom, and one vial of adrenaline, we set off on the journey back to Santa Clotilde- no continuous heart monitor, no laboratory tests, no stocked pharmacy, no blood bank, no heart defibrillator. As night begins to fall, so does my hope in her survival. With a spotlight in one hand and the steering wheel of the boat in the other, our driver skillfully navigates the now imperceptible river which seems to blend seamlessly with the pitch black of the night sky. We arrive at the port at Santa Clotilde and work our way up to the hospital. It’s not long before the nurse finds our patient pulseless. My eyes sweep the room just long enough to know that words are not necessary to communicate what we all know to be true. Her lifeless body, the troubled face of her husband, the bewildered expression of the nurse, and the silent posture of one of our medical volunteers say it all…
As these thoughts and feelings collide violently in my mind, an unbalanced Force makes itself known in a kind and gentle peace. The priest enters the room, rests his hand on the woman’s forehead, and begins to pray- as the woman receives her final blessing on this earth, my heart falls deep in my chest and my tears begin to flow over the brim of a small and fragile vessel. I am reminded that though her body has died, faith is still alive.
No hands…but yours.
The following week I find myself walking alongside one of our hospital custodians as we visit a family in the nearby neighborhood. During the month of May in which we celebrate and honor Mary, our mother, members of the Church go to a different house each evening to pray the Rosary. Gathered in candlelight around a visible and tangible sign of our heavenly Mother, we come together in prayer and song in the presence of the unbalanced Force that unites us all.
And as I look around the room I see hands of different ages, shades, and sizes gently holding each passing bead. Hands that in themselves contain lifetimes of untold stories, all bearing witness to the one story we share in common. With our hands we are united by an unbalanced Force that moves each finger along the string of beads. After a time of prayer we finally come full circle- we are reminded of this Force that has no beginning and no end.
No feet…but yours.
A few weeks before, the often quiet streets come alive with the sound of the high school’s marching band. As the band descends toward the river to welcome our visitors, a transparent case containing a relic of blessed Luigi Tezza emerges from the boat. In a procession through the town, the treasured remains of a man who dedicated his life carrying for the sick in Lima bears witness to the life of service in which we are called to participate. The visit of the “Apostle of Lima” connects us to our Peruvian religious sisters’ foundational past and to our collective future as partners in caring for the people of the Napo.In learning of this prospective saint’s earthly life, the hospital and the community are inspired to follow in his footsteps. We are reminded that to be a saint is not to live an extraordinary life of our own creation, but to live our ordinary lives according to the will of our Creator. And when we gaze upon the small fragment of this man’s foot with reverence and conviction we recognize that he, too, walked this very earth, an earth often too weak and too broken to resist the hopeless inertia that stands in its cyclical path. Carried forward by the same unbalanced Force that moved him, we are reminded that we do not walk alone.
No eyes…but yours.
Another rural health campaign brings us to the river community of Diamante Azul. Here a group of three physicians, a licensed nurse, a midwife, a counselor, and a religious sister provide care and health education to a group of about one hundred patients. In some rural communities, a whole year goes by without a visit from a nurse or doctor. The long chain of patients lining up outside is a testament to this reality as patients take advantage of the opportunity to seek care for their long-neglected health problems. About halfway through our visit, a young girl walks through the door. The yellow of her eyes and the size of her stomach grab the attention of all in the room. Any hopeful momentum gained throughout the morning comes to a worrisome halt as we all come together to figure out how to care for the sickest patient of the day.Further investigation reveals a spleen that stretches ten centimeters below her ribcage (a normal spleen generally does not extend below the ribcage) and on ultrasound, severely enlarged blood vessels threaten the entry to her liver. She suffers from an untreated disorder that has now caused a fatal liver disease with risk of bleeding from the engorged vessels in her body. Her grandfather tells us that years ago only days before she was scheduled to receive a liver transplant that would have potentially saved her life, she was abandoned by her parents, one of whom was her organ donor. Again, inertia eagerly invites us to anger, discouragement, and hopelessness. But with one look into this child’s eyes, a different Force invites us to action. Amidst the concern, uncertainty, and fear present in the superficial yellow of her eyes, a bright smile breaks through. And in the carefree smile of this child, an unbalanced Force makes known a deeper joy, security, and hopefulness. She and her grandfather join us on the boat ride back to Santa Clotilde, and inertia never enters our equation.
***
Though man discovered the “Law of Inertia,” he did not create it. And after witnessing all of the unbalanced manmade forces plaguing our world, I can only imagine where a manmade law of inertia would leave us- frozen still, weighed down, squeezed tight with no clear trajectory in sight. Fortunately, the “Law of Inertia” was instead created by One who has our common good in mind. We were never meant to stay put in our worldly comfort or in our worldly desolation. We were never meant to walk aimlessly in constant anxious motion. We were never meant to merely “go through the motions,” moving through life without momentum at a steady, unchanging pace. Instead, we were gifted an unbalanced Force. This unbalanced Force in our lives moves us forward, gives us hope, and is always and everywhere present. If only we open our eyes to see Him, our ears to hear Him, our hearts to feel Him, our minds to know Him, the lifeless force of inertia will never overcome His greater, life-giving Force. I wonder if its Creator knows the “Law of Inertia” by a different name: the law that guides the true motion of our body, our hands, our feet, and our eyes- this law that is the Way of Faith, Hope, and Love.
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