Awareness, Relationship, and Serving the Human Person.

Abstract

C.S. Lewis once observed that, apart from the Blessed Sacrament, the most sacred encounter we have on a daily basis is with another person. By creating man in his image and likeness, and by the Incarnation that redeems, God tied humankind to himself, firmly and forever. The human person is a sacred expression of God, never to be trivialized, never to be reduced to a mere “thing.” When we fail to recognize that sacredness, we fall short of our calling as Christians and that calling is clear: at a minimum, we are to love others as we love ourselves. If, however, we imitate our Savior, we are to love others as he did, which is a much greater challenge. In either case, relegating the other person to a lesser status is denied the Christian. We recognize that in the abstract. All of us fall short from time to time in our actions. Practice is always harder than theory. In this issue, we explore both the basis for the Christian anthropology that compels us to treat others so well and some of the ways in which modern society and modern medicine fail in that task. At its very core, the Christian world view and the ethics that stem from it are intensely relational. Our Triune God is himself a relationship, and he calls us into his inner life. Recognizing that connectedness imposes some serious duties. Our content also explores some of the ways in which we fall short by failing to consider the dignity of human person in the medical system, whether patient or caregiver, from collection of patient data without permission to exploitation of poor patients in medical research from which they will never benefit. But there are other ways in which our medical care fails to respect the dignity of the people involved in it that are not the subject of articles in this issue but are nevertheless important. Some of the most pervasive stem not from active intent to relegate another to less-than-human status, but from simple inattentiveness. The restrictions imposed by the COVID pandemic have exposed some of the ways in which our medical systems—whether hospital or office based—fail to care for the vulnerable, aged, and marginalized because we simply don’t recognize them or their particular needs. The pandemic has also provided an opportunity for us to respond—in relationship—to those needs. Too often, our systems are designed with efficiency, rather than inclusion, in mind. The person is expected to conform himself to the system rather than the other way around. Although there is a legitimate need to design a “best for most” way of going about things, even in medical care, our call as Christians means that we cannot stop there. We must, if we really believe in the dignity of the other, find ways to bring everyone into the ambit of care. It’s a lofty goal, and chances are we won’t achieve it entirely—but there’s plenty of room to try. And try we must. Transitioning from face-to-face interactions to virtual ones has shown how many people are left behind by “cyber-society.” Even as we have used technology to deliver care quite effectively remotely, we discovered how many patients could not cope with online care, especially when they were separated from family members who could help. Even for the computer savvy person, medical portals can be