Dying Jesus on the road
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Dying Jesus on the road
We were returning
from the cemetery when we saw a crowd of people gathered at the side of the
road. Trucks, cars, and motor cycles slowed, causing traffic to scarcely
trickle by the chaotic scene. Fr. Thaddaeus knew immediately that there had
been an accident. From a short distance away, we could see a broken and twisted
motorcycle lying just beyond the crowd. It looked bad. “They’ve probably
already passed away,” said Fr. Thaddeus quietly.
As we passed them by
the commotion, I saw a man lying on his stomach, showing no apparent signs of
life. Then then I saw his back rise slightly—almost imperceptibly, but
definitely rising and falling.
“He is breathing!” I
yelled. “He is still alive!”
Father Thaddaeus
abruptly pulled the truck to the side of the road, and we quickly got out and
ran to the man. He was young, probably in twenties. Thick blood puddled around
his head and leg. The left leg was broken into pieces and a fragment of bone stuck
out through his calf. He was unconscious, but breathing heavily and slowly.
We had nothing with
us that we could use to help him—no bandages, no medical equipment. And he was clearly dying. I stood there next
to him, frantically trying to figure out how I could help him. Father Thaddaeus
called for someone to bring a cloth. Then he called the police and the EMT. Moments
later, an observer returned with a thin white sheet and tossed it to me. We
opened the sheet and, laying it next to him, rolled the young man onto it. Then
we carried him off the road and into a small alleyway.
There I turned his
head to one side to keep his airway open, and I waited for the sound of a
siren, an ambulance coming to save his life. But the sound never came, and
neither the police nor the EMT responded to our calls.
Unfortunately, this
was no surprise and an all-too-common occurrence in Haiti. Someone dies on the
road and people simply watch it happen, standing there doing nothing to help. When
the dying person’s life finally ends, his body is left on display, lying on the
road. He will soon be forgotten by all and will likely end up as food for pigs
on the road. God mad us in His image. And I do not believe He would want this to
be the final image of a person’s life.
While the young man lay
there dying, the surrounding crowd crept closer and closer. I felt terribly upset
that they now looked upon this sorrowful scene as if they were watching an
impressive show of fireworks. So I began to push the onlookers back, yelling,
“Step back, you people! Give us some space.”
Then a man from the
crowd talked to me in English. “His brother’s here.”
Fr. Thaddaeus told
the man that we would transport his injured brother to the hospital ourselves. So
we again gripped the sheet corners to carry him to the back of the truck. As we
did, the sheet, soaking by blood, ripped and the young man’s head dropped
through the hole. We placed his head back on the sheet and grabbed it more
tightly. Almost at the same time we got the young man into the truck, Sr.
Matthias arrived with some gloves and bandages. She had left immediately after
receiving the call from Fr. Thaddaeus.
As the truck began to
move, I wrapped the injured man’s broken leg with bandages. I knew that it would
do nothing. It would not stop him from dying. I knew he was going to die soon.
But we had to do what we could for him while he was still alive.
Brother Peter prayed
for him with his hand on the man’s chest. Then he said urgently “Baptism! We
have to give him an emergency baptism before he dies!” But there was no time—we
could not stop the truck for even a moment. So Sr. Matthias poured water onto
his forehead right there in the back of the truck and baptized the young man.
He received a new name ‘Joseph’.
Joseph stopped
breathing about five minutes after receiving the sacrament. By the time we
arrived at the hospital, his heart had stopped pumping blood to his body.
We left Joseph and
his brother with the medical staff in the hospital. His blood was on our hands,
and a heavy sorrow began to fill our hearts. Sometimes death bursts into our
lives without warning and takes everything away. Just as it took Joseph’s life
away on that busy road in Haiti.
The Kkottongnae
congregation always runs to those people who are dying alone, living on the
street, abandoned by their families or communities. The congregation responds
to their voices as if responding to the call of Jesus. They are becoming love so
they can give more love to those who are in need.
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