One of the books I use in a course on contemplative
spirituality that I teach is by my friend and fellow Quaker, Parker
Palmer. Parker’s book, The Active Life, tries to describe what
contemplative living looks like for the average person who will not join a
monastery. I like the subtitle of his
book: A Spirituality of Work, Creativity,
and Caring. One of the chapters I
like focuses on “action, failure, and suffering.” It is a story about an angel who wants to
alleviate suffering---an angel who tries to care.
Clearly all of us know there is suffering in our world. No doubt many who read these inspirational
pieces have known some personal suffering.
I don’t know whether suffering is necessary in life, but I am convinced
it is inevitable. Live long enough and
you will suffer. Something the angel
needed to learn was sometimes suffering cannot be alleviated. But suffering can be dealt with. That is where care and compassion enter the
picture.
I am fascinated by a personal story Palmer shares in the
chapter. I know Palmer’s struggle with
some of his own suffering. That is why
his story has a poignancy that touches me.
“In the midst of my depression I had a friend who took a different
track. Every afternoon at around four
o’clock he came to me, sat me in a chair, removed my shoes, and massaged my
feet. He hardly said a word, but he was
there, he was with me. He was a lifeline
for me, a link to the human community and thus to my own humanity. He had no need to ‘fix’ me. He knew the meaning of compassion.”
I know things like depression are not respecters of
intelligence, status, etc. Parker
Palmer is a bright, engaging and successful professional. And yet, the demon of depression can go after
him just as much as someone who has marginal intelligence, might even be
disengaged and is unsuccessful. However,
the story in this case is not really about Palmer, but about his friend. Let’s look at this story from the friend’s
perspective.
Depression is not a weekend problem. It often lasts for a while. So when Palmer’s friend decides to help, he
is not signing on for an occasional cup of coffee. As Palmer tells us, every late afternoon his
friend would show up. In fact, this
might be the most important thing his friend did---simply show up day after
day. That shows a level of commitment
and care that spoke louder than any word could speak.
I like Palmer’s simple utterance: “he came to me.” Is that not really the essence of care and
the heart of compassion? To go out to
another? His friend sat in a chair. And the following sequence touches my
heart. His friend took off Parker’s
shoes. What an act of humility,
compassion and service. My mind races to
the passage in John’s gospel where Jesus washes the feet of his disciples as
they gathered that last night. And then
Jesus enjoins the disciples to wash the feet of others.
Washing someone’s feet is not an action many of us would be
willing to perform. Feet are often
forbidden territory. Sometimes people
don’t even like their own feet. And yet
there is Parker’s friend, sitting in the chair, removing the shoes and
massaging his feet. What an amazing act
of hospitality and of generosity. Perhaps
that is part of the meaning of compassion---the willingness to be hospitable
and generous. Like Jesus, Palmer’s
friend becomes a model of compassion.
In one sense that is the end of the story. The rest of it is Palmer’s
interpretation. He tells us the friend
“hardly said a word.” Often compassion
is an act, not some words. Instead of
saying, “I’ll care for you,” his friend actually did. And then comes the most profound statement
from Palmer: “he was there, he was with me.”
That summarizes the action and the effect of compassion…to be there for
someone. Compassion is being with
someone in need.
It is a beautiful story.
In Palmer’s own words his friend became “a lifeline to me.” In an almost literal sense the friend had
become a kind of savior. Palmer was not
dead, but depression is a form of deadliness.
His friend offered a hope---a saving hope. He was not there to fix Parker, but he was
repeatedly there to favor him with grace, mercy, care and compassion. All that was wrapped up in two hands
massaging two feet. How simple and, yet, how profound.
His action of compassion link Palmer back to the human
community and, especially, back to himself.
One could say compassion is a heart to heart encounter. Like love, compassion can be given and not be
depleting. In his compassion the friend
lost nothing. I can imagine the friend
even saying that he had found something.
By giving he was enriched. That’s
the meaning of compassion.
thank-you for the gift of your writing
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