Andre F. Lijoi, MD
St. Catherine of Bologna Writing Group
“You should look carefully at this. You must get to know him,” one of my residents said, and handed me an article about the canonization of St. Giuseppe Moscati, MD. It was 2013—I had been in practice for thirty years and I had yet to meet a colleague with whom I could share my experience of faith as I practiced medicine.
Early in my residency I yearned to live my faith in a genuine way as a physician. I was early in what Richard Rohr, OFM, in The Wild Man’s Journey called “the journey of descent,” that embrace of God’s desire to have a much bigger presence in my life. I was fortunate that the Holy Spirit kept me grounded in my Catholic faith without detour during college and medical training, despite some bumps.
I had yet to learn how to balance my professional responsibility while being true to my faith, a faith that offered rich blessings to those under my care. I had not yet realized the personal blessing that comes with seeing the face of the suffering Jesus before me, and the equal blessing of bringing the face of the merciful Jesus to those I served. What I did know was that I had an ethical responsibility to do what was in the patient’s best interest, avoid harming them, not judge them, not impose my biases, and never proselytize. I did not know how to navigate the spiritual and moral responsibility to put God first in my work. Medicine, like many things in life, presents conflicts for those who feel compelled to make faith a real part of their life by living it. Faith is not merely an intellectual exercise. I needed a mentor.
Giuseppe Moscati, a physician saint, practiced medicine in the first quarter of the twentieth century and was canonized in 1987. He was a teacher at the Hospital for the Incurables in Naples, Italy, and was known for his diagnostic prowess, which drew many students to him. He was also known for his compassion toward his patients and directed their care as whole persons. Michael Miller, in the Lay Witness article March/April 2004 given to me by my resident, quoted Giuseppe: “Not science, but charity has transformed the world. . . . All can leave the world a better place by their charity.” Miller also quoted a letter to a young doctor: “Remember that you must treat not only bodies, but also souls, with counsel that appeals to their minds and hearts.”
I was immediately drawn to Giuseppe. We both valued careful diagnosis and embraced the shared humanity before us with charity. I prayed to him for intercession, to help me be the compassionate physician and teacher that he was. I “invited” him on rounds and to my office each day in my prayer, hoping to be ever mindful of the suffering humanity I encountered, and to teach my students to do the same.
Gradually, my relationship with Giuseppe brought joy that I had not experienced before. His intercession prompted me to remove any restraint from willing the good of my patients. This was caritas. It was safe to “love” my patients without crossing boundaries. After all, I was caring for Christ himself. When caritas forms the physician-patient relationship, hope becomes palpable to patients. Faithfulness to my oath made love the foundation of my relationship with them.
When the pandemic arrived, retirement was nearing and the inclination to retire was potent. I considered Giuseppe’s discernment as he cared for his patients while facing cholera outbreaks and volcanic eruptions, with the walls of his hospital falling around him. Giuseppe, like so many saints before him, including the prophets, opted to continue his mission, despite uncertainty. Faithfulness to the mission, rather than success, was most important. My path was clear: continue the mission God set before me knowing that I might not survive the first pandemic year.
When I first read Giuseppe’s words, I recalled a letter I had published in America Magazine before I knew this saint. In this letter, I had articulated a belief that the Catholic virtues of charity and compassion are the foundation of my vocational work as a physician. Giuseppe’s intercession and my reflection on his life have led me to understand that when we become vehicles for God’s compassion as doctors, we find ourselves enveloped in that same compassion and are deeply blessed by the call to serve.
St. Giuseppe and I are kindred spirits. His intercession provided courage to grow as a physician who witnessed his faith, not by rationalizing it but by living it. I found the mentor colleague I desired. His introduction that day in 2013 was providential, and I believe it is no coincidence that his memorial is celebrated on November 16, my birthday.