Today began with a necklace, and hopefully will end with something else.
I started singing with my church choir a few weeks ago, and since they were singing this morning, I had to be there an hour early. Yesterday, I went to a spa with friends, which is only relevant in that I did not wear my usual pendant that I purchased last summer. Net result was that this morning, I couldn’t find it, which was somewhat distressing, but I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.
Today’s sermon topic was “The three faces of compassion” — tender, fierce, mischevous. It was a most potent dose of all three to me.
I asked Jaco afterwards if I could have a copy of the printout he was reading from (being in the choir, I could see that it was a little more than a page of single-spaced type, probably no bigger than 10 pt Times Roman). He said it would be posted in a few days, since he made a few changes to his manuscript. Here’s a quick summary of what I got out of it.
- Tender compassion is being able to sympathize with someone in pain, and acting on it. It could be sitting with a friend in need; it could be going to help tsunami victims in Southeast Asia.
- Fierce compassion can best be illustrated by this story Jaco told, if I can remember it well enough:A female Buddist student spent many hours a day in meditation on compassion for others. However, her compassion was sorely tested when she went out into the world; in particular, a particular storekeeper who subjected her to unwanted caresses. One day, her patience broke and she threatened him with her umbrella. Then she realized her teacher was watching; when the incident was over, she went over to him expecting a reprimand. Her teacher gave her this advice: Feel nothing but kindness for this man; fill your heart with love for him; and then hit him with your umbrella as hard as you can.
- Finally, mischevous compassion, illustrated by two more stories told today:There was a school, with a teacher and multiple students. A theft was reported to the teacher, committed by one of his students; but he did nothing about it, and did not reprimand the student. A second theft was reported, committed by the same student; still, the teacher did nothing. Finally the rest of his students put together a petition, requesting that the teacher expel the thief, or the rest of them would leave. The teacher spoke to his entire class: “There are many schools out there; you are free to go to another if you wish. You will still be taught that the path to holiness is through loving each other. This student who is stealing does not know this; if I expel him, who else will teach him this lesson?” The thief began to cry, and was never tempted to steal again.
A woman in an Episcopal church was well-known for her compassion and as a caretaker of others, until one day she suffered an accident that partially paralyzed her, making it difficult if not impossible for her to take care of her husband, and indeed herself. She sank into a depression, having lost all sense of self-worth. Her husband tried to console her: “You have been taking care of me for 50 years, now it is time for me to take care of you.” This only made her depression worse, convincing her that she was incapable of even self-care, and was only a burden on others, and she wished to die. Finally, her pastor decided he needed to help her gain a new image of self-worth, though he wasn’t certain what that would end up being. He spoke to her one day: “I understand why you are so depressed, and indeed if I were in your position, I might also wish to die. However, before you die, while you’re still alive, I think the two of us should go to the local retirement home and clean it out with a couple of uzis. After all, it’s just filled with a bunch of people with no value, right?” The woman stopped being depressed and got angry that her pastor would say such a thing; and then he could see the light bulb turn on over her head as she understood what he was really trying to say to her. Within a few weeks, she was no longer depressed, and it was evident when she came to church she was still taking care of her husband, even if it wasn’t in quite the same way; and in fact, she outlived her husband.
One of the biggest elements of compassion is forgiveness; another is being able, in Buddist terms, to cherish both yourself and others. Being kind to your friends, your loved ones, is easy; it is much more difficult to follow Jesus’ radical advice in Matthew, to love your enemy, cherish those who hate you, pray for those who mean you harm. And every major world faith — Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddism, even Confucianism — preaches some form of the golden rule. In approx. 350 BCE, Confucius advocated, “Do not do to others what you would not wish done to yourself.” Jesus of course made it into a positive: “Do unto others as you would have done to you.” Rabbi Hillel, when asked to give a summary of Jewish belief “while standing on one foot”, assumed the position, then said that the Torah basically boiled down to the same thing (I can’t remember the exact quote) — all the rest is commentary.
Somewhere along the way, H and I forgot this. I realized this less than half-way through the sermon, and wanted to throw myself down somewhere sobbing. And I found myself thinking of the necklace that in a fit of anger at a friend’s betrayal, I could no longer wear — the one that has the Chinese character for forgiveness on it. I came home, and had to look in a few different spots to locate it, but I did, and it’s back around my neck. I need the reminder now more than ever; I have much to forgive, from multiple parties; and I have much to ask forgiveness for. I — we — need to start over, if it isn’t already too late.
