Last Saturday, I was in church as usual for mass. There was this priest who probably gave one of the most powerful sermons in my life. It won’t do it justice for me to paraphrase what he said but I will try my best to repeat word for word what he said but also shorten it as it was longer than this.

“So, today’s Gospel talks about leprosy. As we all know, leprosy is a skin virulent disease. It spreads to other people by touch. In the Gospel, we hear Jesus touched the man and he was healed. It was a miracle. Now, this brings back memories of me visiting this place that was helping people who were suffering AIDS. I volunteered there every Saturday. So, there was this man. Now, he’s an elderly man who is probably in his sixties and he stays there. For some reason, he never talked to anyone and I tried talking to him too but to no avail. He wouldn’t talk to anyone except for this man named John.

I always wondered why does he only talk to John. Anyway, after a few months of volunteering at the place, he finally talked to me. We had a good chat and I started asking him, “So, how come you only talk to John? Why wouldn’t you talk to the rest of us?”. He then replied, “You all come here to volunteer and put on these fake smiles. You do not realise how hypocritical you are. Because I have AIDS, everyone seems to be afraid of me and when they come near me, they look like they want to avoid me. This John was the same thing as well. One day, I went to the toilet and slipped. John, without hesitation, rushed to me and immediately grabbed hold of me. He held me in his arms and lifted me back up. I then know that John was different and he wasn’t afraid at all of touching me.”

Imagine that. A touch was all it took to change a man’s heart. Just as Jesus touched the leper, John touched the old man’s heart. I actually come here today with a heavy heart. When I come to town, I usually call this good friend of mine. He would pick me up from the train station and would take me around to have the best food in town. So two days before I came to town, I messaged him and told him about it. I was wondering if we could have the same arrangement as before. He didn’t reply. So, I was a bit worried. Maybe he was busy. So, I decided to message him on Facebook. What I saw was heartbreaking. His wall was filled with all these messages saying, “My condolences, what a great man he was.”.

I looked through the wall and kept searching for answers. My own friend. And I didn’t know that he passed away two months ago. I felt very troubled and went to the chapel to pray. I really really wanted to cry but no tears came out. It was almost as if I didn’t know how to cry. And that I had lost that intuition to touch and to feel. I felt really sad.

In this day and age, we have all these wonderful ways of communicating with each other through Whatsapp, Facetime and whatnot but it almost seems we have lost that instinct to express our emotions because we don’t see each other face to face. We have lost that instinct to express ourselves emotionally. That intuition to know something is wrong when you talk to the person when you see them. That intuition to touch someone’s heart.”

I felt so touched by his sermon that I cried. Images of my grandparents flashed by my mind. Two distinct images. Both by their bedside and both in the hospital. I remembered my grandmother who had pneumonia. Her cheeks were all puffed up due to the medication and drips they were giving her. Her skin was filled with fluids. I remembered looking at her eyes and touching her arm. I said, “Mama, don’t worry you know. It’s going to be alright.”.

Another was the day I came back from Sydney to my hometown. I didn’t know that my grandfather was in a coma and critical stage when I boarded the flight. When I arrived, I only saw my dad. He then said, “Mummy is with your grandfather.”. I was told he could go at any time and that I might not even get to see him for one last time. When I sat in the taxi back, I tried so hard to stay awake although I was so tired from my flight. Each time the phone rings, my heart sank deeper each time in fearing my grandfather had passed away.

Eventually, I reached the hospital room. My grandfather was still there, lying on his bed in a coma. I looked at him. I looked at his wrinkly skin and all the patches on his arm. I touched his arm again and said, “Kong kong, I’m back. I’m here kong kong. Can you hear me?”. I just broke down there and then in front of my relatives. I felt so helpless and useless. My heart was broken into a million pieces.

In two of the incidents, I touched them. I didn’t care how wrinkly their skin were. I didn’t care what was on there or how many patches were there. They are my grandparents and I will touch their skin when I want to because it’s my instinct. No form of electronic communication will ever replace that. Nothing will ever replace that instinct that I have to ask if someone is okay because that is the fundamental of being human. We can talk to each other as much as we want on the phone and message each other as much as we like but nothing will replace a human’s touch.

I think I forgotten the importance of that. I didn’t realize how significant a human’s touch is and how much it is able to change someone’s life. Let’s not forget we have that gift. Let’s remember that you and I have hands for a reason. Let’s remember that you and I can always and will always be able to touch someone’s life should we allow ourselves to. You and I are special like that.