A war somewhere in the world is not just a distant war. Its effects extend like waves that cross borders, economies, cultures and hearts. We live in an era in which we know — because of science, experience and also faith — that everything is profoundly connected.
We believed that we would not once again witness conflicts with global consequences. We thought that the horrors of the past had elevated our collective consciousness and transformed relationships between peoples. However, today we see wars involving various nations, each one defending its own interests and justifying the destruction of the other for its own security.
At the same time, we live in an era in which we understand better than at any other time the interconnection among human, social, political and spiritual realities. Physicists and mystics agree on a fundamental belief: Our reality is a living network of relationships where everything is profoundly linked.
The more complicated a system, the more sensitive it becomes to tiny changes. We saw it clearly with the SARS-CoV-2 virus, which caused COVID-19. This virus barely measures between 60 to 140 nanometers in diameter, a nanometer being a metric unit equal to one billionth of a meter. Something practically invisible changed the entire world, transforming our relationships, our economies and our way of life.
Something similar occurs with human suffering. In war, every death, every tear, every displacement generates waves that expand much further from where they occurred. These affect us in ways that are visible and invisible. The greater a person’s sensitivity, the more they perceive these emotional and spiritual changes.
I think of the moment when Jesus experienced the weight of abandonment and loneliness in the Garden of Gethsemane: “And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground” (Luke 22:44).
Pain is not the only thing that generates waves in the world. Kindness, solidarity and love also do. In the midst of conflicts — although they rarely appear in headlines — emerge innumerable gestures of humanity: homes that welcome those who are fleeing, food that is shared, volunteers that transport the wounded and the elderly, health workers that risk their lives to save the lives of others, communities that become places of refuge.
There, hope is alive. There, beats a profound sense of life. There, Jesus’ message resounds: “That all of them may be one” (John 17:21). Said another way: Let us not forget that we are all united and connected.
That is why nothing is lost. Each gesture of kindness, each silent prayer, each act of service generates waves of life that strengthen, sustain and heal. Even in the midst of darkness, we can always choose to be a source of light, compassion and solidarity.
Extraordinary acts are not needed. It’s enough to do the ordinary in an extraordinary way: with intention, conscience and common sense.
These wars prompt necessary questions: What are they showing us? What have we neglected? What values have guided our decisions, as people and as societies?
To ask these questions opens the door to transformation. They invite us to look within, to awaken and undertake new ways to live and to relate as families, communities and peoples, even if the process is painful.
My gestures matter.
My decisions matter.
My prayers in the silence of my room matter.
My effort to cultivate solidarity and service matter.
We already have recommendations for these times: “Clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful” (Col 3:12-16).
In a world profoundly interconnected, your gestures of light matter and contribute to changing the course of history. It all begins with you.
