A World Without an Embrace

A LETTER FROM GEORGIA

by Anahit Mkhoyan

Dear friends, because the penalties for those breaking them are

It was a day in time! I was driving across very high — or the effect of fear is too great. the border, leaving my beloved family in Georgians are living under intense pressure, as the Armenia to return to my beloved work in Georgia, fear of the virus affects every aspect of their economic, to be among the people who I am humbled to serve psychological, social and spiritual lives. This fear is as the director of Caritas in Georgia. Normally, the not about how many people have been diagnosed border crossing is full of cars and people. Not now. or if or how people are obeying the protocols in It was totally empty. My heart seemed to stop for a place to protect them. Rather, it is a fear of the moment as I sat behind the steering wheel and unknown, as if an invisible substance has surrounded assessed my environment. As I stepped out of the the earth. And while invisible, this substance creates car and walked to the customs office, I began to very visible distancing among people, which for our think how we as human beings think we can control Georgian — and Armenian — culture is antithetical. everything. Until in one moment, when something It starts dictating new norms that are quite artificial, uncontrollable happens, yet people follow because we become so helpless “Social distancing makes this fear has great power. and fragile. The border police this all especially difficult, There are children of Caritas, boys and girls who checked my documents even artificial. It challenges benefit from our many and escorted me to my our vocation, our call to be social service programs, home in Tbilisi, where I am now in self-quarantine. The a Christian and our very who live at the Caritas center, where my home is roads were full of police humanity.” located. These are “my and military personnel as children.” Before the the town of Marneuli, which is located along the pandemic, every time I saw them, they would run way from the frontier to the Georgian capital city, to me, hug me, talk to me. And that meant so much. remains in lockdown. The police escort and the This time, after being with my husband and military check points reminded me of the war daughters in Armenia, and escorted by the police to movies I had watched as a child. ensure my quarantine in Tbilisi, I had to escape my

The number of Coronavirus cases is not very high children to avoid contact. But they were hesitant to in Georgia, largely due to the severity of the approach me; they had been warned already of the containment measures imposed by the government. danger of approaching me. Culturally, the Georgian people are not known as To be “dangerous” is not a pleasant feeling. It was generally submissive or compliant. But now they awkward, and my heart skipped a beat for another are observing the rules and protocols, perhaps moment that day. Put simply: I cannot hug my children. We cannot Anahit Mkhoyan, directs the charitable activities of embrace; we cannot approach one another closely; Caritas Georgia. we have to wear protective gear when interacting,

“We have learned that, at the end of the day, everything is in God’s hands — and not in ours.”

tx Caritas Georgia’s work includes the operation of centers where guests can socialize, take classes or enjoy a meal.

u A Caritas team prepares supplies for delivery to those in need.

and keep distance, distance and more distance. Yes, it is important to follow the protocols, but a Caritas vocation calls for us to be close, to listen, and to be present physically, remaining with those who suffer. But social distancing makes this all especially difficult, even artificial. It challenges our vocation, our call to be a Christian and our very humanity. Our only consolation is knowing that, by observing these protocols, we are caring for and protecting one another.

When members of the Caritas team — volunteers and staff — deliver food to the doors of those men and women who once came to our soup kitchen, they have to leave as soon as possible. When our nurses enter homes to check on the well-being of our elderly or special-needs patients, they must be fully covered. Our patients barely recognize their caregivers under their protective gear. I hope they do not feel as I did when the doctor at the border checked on the status of my health before permitting me in the country: I had this weird feeling of not being safe to others.

To minimize the fear and the awkwardness, we have taken some of our activities online. This is not a problem for our administrative work, but creates real challenges for our pastoral activities. As our current president, Bishop Giuseppe Pasotto, Latin Catholic apostolic vicar of the Caucasus, wrote in his letter to Caritas: “All of this is the first time for all of us. This is a new experience … that is forcing us to live our vocation, our service and our relationship with God and with our brothers and sisters in a surreal way.

“A church cannot exist without relationships, contacts and surroundings. We miss being ‘summoned.’ ”

Yes, we miss being summoned greatly. We miss being in our churches. We miss the sounds of our sacred liturgies, the sweet scent of incense and the power of prayer in unity. And we miss receiving Jesus in the Eucharist.

Nevertheless, there are lessons to be learned from this. We have started to value things we have always taken for granted — the simple things we used to carry out but now find so difficult to implement. We have learned that so many things we once considered important are in fact so unimportant.

We have recognized that those we once pushed aside in the regular pace of life are the most important to us. In these days our most constructive fear is the fear of losing them, and this pushes us to show and tell them how we love and charish them.

We have learned that, at the end of the day, everything is in God’s hands — and not in ours.

The charism of Caritas is the belief that every human being is of value, and that we have to serve them unconditionally. Now is the moment, when times are uncertain and fear grips our hearts, that we serve the poorest of the poor, trusting in the mercy and love of God, and clinging to the hope that all this will come to an end soon. n