The Center for Compassion and Altruism Research has this to say about the word, compassion:
Compassion comes into the English language by way of the Latin root “passio,” which means to suffer, paired with the Latin prefix “com”, meaning together — to suffer together. The concept of compassion and its link to suffering has deep philosophical and religious roots.
By this definition, what would it mean to live a compassionate life?
Likely, we’d avert our eyes far less and sit in the dirt together far more. We’d bare witness to the mess, even when there are no easy means of clean-up. No Swiffer or Clorox wipes to make the hard things disappear. A compassionate life would gently help untie the twisty; allowing our hearts to get comfortable with decisions that our minds can’t always comprehend.
To be honest, this kind of compassion or co-suffering is our worst nightmare. Because it means giving up the time we spend on things that make us feel good, productive, and accomplished. Because the true work of compassion can take a painstaking amount of time.
A friend once told me I had a knack for making things cozy. I place a high value on creating a calm, quiet home; with couches chock-full of throw pillows and blankets. Think candles, coffee (or wine), and good food. And while those things do offer environmental solace to the friend sitting on my couch, sharing their heart in a time of trouble, by the definition we’re working with here – that may or may not always add up to showing that friend true compassion.
Feeling warm feelings and offering a wise word to folks in a tough spot is good. But when I think of how often I’ve put myself firmly outside of my comfort zone, I fear the number is far too low for my liking. Because compassion can sometimes push us to places we don’t want to go and make us endure what we’d rather avoid.
I don’t like knots or puzzles (metaphorical or literal). And if I struggle to understand how someone landed in the situation they’re in, think they brought it on themselves, or are failing to embrace a possible solution, it’s really easy for me to look the other way. No co-suffering required.
Often, my compassion reflex or I’ll call it, “love in action” is activated by the belief that someone has done everything they can to alleviate their own problem.
Have they tried this? Have they tried that? Have they made all the “right” decisions?
I hope every Jesus-following Christian, cringed a little at those questions. The faith we proclaim is rooted in the idea that none of us are worthy or infallible, yet Jesus enters in with unparalleled compassion to save us from sin. The ultimate co-sufferer, he endured excruciating pain next to two unworthy others and for an unworthy us.
He could have remained comfortable. Cozy. In paradise. Instead, he took on vulnerability and exposed himself to the dirt and the pain, and the mess.
Choosing the way of compassion often means choosing the way of difficulty. Compassion doesn’t solve problems quickly. Instead, it holds grace-filled space for complex humans; understanding that healing isn’t a hurried process.
Our biggest social ills and personal traumas aren’t healed with quick fixes, but quick fixes are what we want.
How has someone(s) shown you compassion? How did it make you feel?
Inconvenient Compassion…
The chatty checkout line.
A Dutch grocery store is combating the loneliness of our time by providing check-out lines that are intentionally slow; allowing for conversation with customers in need of connection. Aimed specifically at the senior community, the store also has a “chat corner,” for this purpose.
It’s not convenient. And I’m sure it could be seen as a waste of time and potentially money for the business and other patrons.
I hope you enjoyed this month’s installment of, Curious Compassion.
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