Another excellent wordless book. |
In
my previous post on Sympathy, I sought to make two vital truths clear.
First,
that the only alternative to sympathy is to actively establish and reinforce
our antipathy toward those we choose
to exclude from consideration as our fellow human beings. Otherwise, we would
be forced to acknowledge even a minimal identification with their experience,
and “feel for them,” perhaps even
expressing that sentiment before returning to our own personal concerns.
Second,
that allowing ourselves to experience sympathy for any other person almost invariably leads us to do more than merely
express our acknowledgement of another’s circumstance and its consequences.
When we truly recognize the realities of another’s experience, it becomes
difficult to ignore the correlation between their needs and “our” resources.
For all our more exacting definitions of “ministry,” the simple fulfillment of
loving our neighbors as ourselves is this: Applying the resources God provides
to the needs He shows us.
The
Foundations of Compassion
What
is that causes us not only to recognize, but to feel compelled to do something
about another’s condition? We may not be able to entirely ameliorate their
circumstances (as I noted in the “sympathy” post—ameliorate = to improve or
restore another from having incurred damage). Perhaps we may merely mitigate the
consequences (i.e., lessen the severity of damage to another from their
condition). And sometimes, we will find that we can only imperfectly palliate
what they are experiencing (i.e., diminish the pain they feel amidst the damage
being done). The frustrations are very real. There is often less we can do than
we would like to do. But the need to step forward in compassion is a very real
motivator resulting from a foundational impulse built into us as human beings.
Do you hear it? Something's out there. |
The
reality of our interdependence upon other human beings is undeniable. But
rather than begrudging the necessity of interpersonal interaction, most of us
choose to form relationships with others. In fact, we often choose to live with
at least a few others in authentic, transparent, and vulnerable intimacy. Even
if we were guaranteed protection from others’ damaged condition resulting in
damage to us (As one has phrased it, “Hurt people hurt people.”), the simple
fact of recognizing others’ needs and meeting them from with “our” resources
recommends against such actions. So
why do we engage others at all? Much less in even casual relationships? Not to
mention the handful of close, personal bonds that sometimes magnify the pain of
unmet expectations, coupled with the inevitable loss that will eventually
occur?
Why
do we do it?!
Because
that’s the way we are built. For all the other imaginations of what it means to
be “created to bear the image and likeness of God,” it is clearest to me when I
remember that I am called to serve “one God, eternally existing in three
persons.” The interrelatedness of human beings is merely a reflection of the
interrelatedness of the Creator who formed each of us, and built into us the
same impulse to vital connection that exists among the persons of that one God.
There’s much more to say about the Trinity, of course. But I don’t want to
leave our discussion of unity in and among diversity, and especially the
requirements that must be met for compassion to be fulfilled, not frustrated.
The
Essential Condition of Compassion
There
are alternatives, of course. Paul Louis Metzger
recently wrote regarding the perception of some Amida Buddhist friends that our
goal should be emancipation from anything external to ourselves. Quoting
Buddhism’s “Heart Sutra,” Dr. Metzger points out that some Buddhists see John
Lennon’s “Imagine” as synopsizing their ultimate goal of withdrawal from
anything of meaning, anything that would cause passion, or even a response to
the physical world in which we live. Success in eliminating one’s own
personhood would seem to overcome any
interpersonal conflicts. But in a
world where our minds and hearts are inexorably intertwined with a body that
cannot help but interact with the surrounding world, the necessity of
interpersonal relationships is indisputable. The inherently impersonal
eradication of self is an impossibility, since it would be the self that must
will and act to eradicate its self.
It's not difficult to enforce solitude...temporarily. |
Our
interpersonal interactions will necessarily entail the recognition of one
another’s needs. We are designed to respond in sympathy to one another, and to
act on that sympathy in compassion. As Buddhists rightly observe, this leads to
conflict. Even when I choose to share “my” resources with another, there is the
potential for them to see my actions as patronizing, or even demeaning toward
them. And, whether gratitude is shown or not, I may imagine that my role is
more essential to them than theirs is to me. I may proudly take on the role of
benefactor, forgetting that they possess important resources for my needs, even
as I deliver assistance to them.
Is
the solution, then, to these inevitable interpersonal conflicts the Buddhist’s
eradication of self? If that were possible, if withdrawal into impersonal
isolation comes within reach, from where comes this continued longing for “emancipation”
that Dr. Metzger’s sources describe? In that context, it would seem that our
greatest emancipation must surely be a secure asylum from the “hell” that is
“other people?” (That’s existentialist Jean Paul Sartre’s estimation, by the
way, not mine.)
But it might be good to hear others' opinions, too. |
So,
what alternative remains? Our interpersonal impulses are undeniable, and conflict,
therefore, is inevitable. On what basis, then, can we fulfill our desires to engage
one another in compassion? Rather than withdrawing into isolation, how do we
still avoid escalating the conflict until it is the other’s person we eradicate?
Compassion
can continue, despite the conflicts
our interpersonal relationship create between those in need and those with
resources (even when we recognize that those in need have resources that are
needed by those with certain resources for the other’s need). Because, in
addition to being built with an impulse to interpersonal relationships, we are
also built with an innate recognition of our own contributions to interpersonal
conflicts. As much, and often more, than I need to forgive others for their
roles in conflict, I need the forgiveness of others for my own roles in
creating, ignoring, patronizing, or simply failing to ameliorate, mitigate, or
palliate wherever I have opportunity.
Dr.
Metzger’s conclusion, that “we can break out of the perpetual cycle of
hostility and extend forgiveness to others” by pursuing “a way that produces
actions of love rather than those of indifference and hate.” That way leads to,
into, and through a relationship with the One who has sought to establish the
foundations of our compassion by showing, in the most extraordinary terms, His
compassion in providing for our forgiveness.
On
a practical note: What if there’s nothing I can do?
Compassion’s
calling on our lives can be all too clear when another needs financial support,
an extra hand for an occasional project, a ride to the doctor’s office, or even
a shoulder to cry on…temporarily. But there if often a nagging sense that we
should do something about needs that are not so clear, and especially about
needs that are clearly beyond our ability to ameliorate, mitigate, or even
palliate. (I hope it’s clear that I think you should learn these vocabulary
words.)
You never know when you'll need someone to reciprocate. |
In
the most extreme circumstances, it may seem like we have nothing whatsoever to
share, simply because we cannot imagine that anyone has anything to
share that could help in any way. For
example, regarding the frustrations of those who desperately wish to make a
more tangible difference in the brief remaining lives of the imminently dying,
a couple of quotes frequently come to mind.
I
remember it being Jackson Rainer who said, at an American Academy
of Bereavement training, “To exist with them at the moment of their crisis is
to be significant in the life of another.” Dr. Chris Camarata, former medical
director for Mayers Memorial Hopsital/Intermountain Hospice, frequently
commented, “Don’t underestimate the impact of being willing to sit with them,
even if all we can do is to bear silent witness to their pain.” I have been in
many situation as a chaplain, pastor, friend, and/or family member where there
was nothing I could change about the circumstances others were facing. But that
doesn’t mean I had nothing to do. It took great effort, in fact. But in those
times and places, I stayed.
Sometimes,
our greatest compassion is shown by fighting the urge to flee from what we
cannot fix.
Even if what needs fixed is
my self.
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