I know I have written before about compassion. But it is a pretty deep and powerful concept, so whatever I said earlier no doubt is limited. I have had some new thoughts. Much of what I want to share in today’s reflection comes from having watched a recent Krista Tippett’s TED video on compassion. I have admired Tippett’s work for some time now. She is a journalist who has the benefit of some theological education. She is well known for her radio broadcast and blog called “On Being.” I have also used her book, Becoming Wise, in a class. It is a good one.
In this seventeen-minute presentation, Tippett makes me think about compassion in some different ways. In the first place she contrasts it with tolerance. This interests me because I have written a short piece on tolerance. In that piece I said, “Tolerance is always an issue in the context of difference and diversity. Tolerance means to bear with people’s differences or diversities. Tolerance includes respect for the other, but it goes beyond respect. Tolerance is a willingness to endure lovingly the difficulties of diversity.” I think Tippett might disagree with one aspect of my definition and this caused me to have another look at compassion.
When I say tolerance is a “willingness to endure lovingly the difficulties of diversity,” I think Tippett may take issue with my adverb, lovingly. Instead, she might opine that tolerance does endure difficulties, but not necessarily lovingly. In this sense, tolerance means more like “put up with.” Someone can dislike someone or someone, but tolerate them. I certainly have done this! So with Tippett’s help, I might rewrite this definition and leave out the adverb, too.
The adverb, lovingly, is where compassion enters the picture and become more than tolerance. Let’s see how Tippett develops the idea of compassion. In the first place she tells us that compassion is kind. Secondly, she says compassion “cultivates curiosity.” She adds that “compassion can be synonymous with empathy. It can be joined with the harder work of forgiveness and reconciliation, but it can also express itself in the simple act of presence.” I very much like this last point. Compassion as presence is a new idea. Or perhaps better, seeing compassion as presence is something I think I have long understood, but would not have thought to articulate it this way.
Many times, we can offer presence, even if we don’t know what to say or what to do. Sometimes in a crisis, there is nothing to be said. Just be with a person. This leads to another one of her observations. She notes, “I’m not sure I can show you what tolerance looks like, but I can show you what compassion looks like---because it is visible.” This is another instance of compassion as presence. She adds that “compassion does seek physicality.” This means compassion is visible when we begin to live it out in real life situations. We make it physical by the way we embody it and act it out.
Tippett begins to single out some people who have embodied compassion. She begins with a story of a paraplegic, a person I do not know. This is paradoxical because this guy is usually the object of compassion and here he is the giver of it. Tippett moves on to other obvious figures, of whom my favorite is Jean Vanier, the founder of L’Arche communities for mental disabled communities. Vanier has a great line. He says compassion “is never in the first instance about changing the world; it’s in the first instance about changing ourselves.”
Vanier made me sit up when he reminded us that the word in the L’Arche communities “is not a solution, but a sign. Tippett picks up on this to teach us that “Compassion is rarely a solution, but it is always a sign of a deeper reality, of deeper human possibilities.” There are two things I like about this line of thought. Often compassion does not offer a solution. It addresses a situation by offering a presence. That presence may be helpful, a solace, etc., but the problem still may be a problem. A Down syndrome human being is still going to be a Down person. To be compassionate is to offer presence, kindness and tenderness; it is not to be god!
Compassion is a sign. Tippett says it is also a story. It is not simply an idea or abstract concept. It is personalized; it creates a narrative. It is a story about Vanier or about Mother Teresa or about us doing and being something. Tippett notes that “compassion is unleashed in wider and wider circles by signs and stories, never by statistics and strategies.” This is a great line! I believe Tippett is correct when she claims, we “need stories to survive, to flourish, to change.”
I appreciate Tippett offering me another look at compassion. I have a better way to see and understand it. I actually have a better way to think about how I might show some compassion---in little, simple ways. I can be kind. I can also show tenderness. I certainly can willingly be a sign to others of what compassion looks like in and through me. By doing so, there will be a story created. When we tell a story, we begin by saying something like this: “when I did this…”
The good news is we can all do it; we can all be compassionate.
In this seventeen-minute presentation, Tippett makes me think about compassion in some different ways. In the first place she contrasts it with tolerance. This interests me because I have written a short piece on tolerance. In that piece I said, “Tolerance is always an issue in the context of difference and diversity. Tolerance means to bear with people’s differences or diversities. Tolerance includes respect for the other, but it goes beyond respect. Tolerance is a willingness to endure lovingly the difficulties of diversity.” I think Tippett might disagree with one aspect of my definition and this caused me to have another look at compassion.
When I say tolerance is a “willingness to endure lovingly the difficulties of diversity,” I think Tippett may take issue with my adverb, lovingly. Instead, she might opine that tolerance does endure difficulties, but not necessarily lovingly. In this sense, tolerance means more like “put up with.” Someone can dislike someone or someone, but tolerate them. I certainly have done this! So with Tippett’s help, I might rewrite this definition and leave out the adverb, too.
The adverb, lovingly, is where compassion enters the picture and become more than tolerance. Let’s see how Tippett develops the idea of compassion. In the first place she tells us that compassion is kind. Secondly, she says compassion “cultivates curiosity.” She adds that “compassion can be synonymous with empathy. It can be joined with the harder work of forgiveness and reconciliation, but it can also express itself in the simple act of presence.” I very much like this last point. Compassion as presence is a new idea. Or perhaps better, seeing compassion as presence is something I think I have long understood, but would not have thought to articulate it this way.
Many times, we can offer presence, even if we don’t know what to say or what to do. Sometimes in a crisis, there is nothing to be said. Just be with a person. This leads to another one of her observations. She notes, “I’m not sure I can show you what tolerance looks like, but I can show you what compassion looks like---because it is visible.” This is another instance of compassion as presence. She adds that “compassion does seek physicality.” This means compassion is visible when we begin to live it out in real life situations. We make it physical by the way we embody it and act it out.
Tippett begins to single out some people who have embodied compassion. She begins with a story of a paraplegic, a person I do not know. This is paradoxical because this guy is usually the object of compassion and here he is the giver of it. Tippett moves on to other obvious figures, of whom my favorite is Jean Vanier, the founder of L’Arche communities for mental disabled communities. Vanier has a great line. He says compassion “is never in the first instance about changing the world; it’s in the first instance about changing ourselves.”
Vanier made me sit up when he reminded us that the word in the L’Arche communities “is not a solution, but a sign. Tippett picks up on this to teach us that “Compassion is rarely a solution, but it is always a sign of a deeper reality, of deeper human possibilities.” There are two things I like about this line of thought. Often compassion does not offer a solution. It addresses a situation by offering a presence. That presence may be helpful, a solace, etc., but the problem still may be a problem. A Down syndrome human being is still going to be a Down person. To be compassionate is to offer presence, kindness and tenderness; it is not to be god!
Compassion is a sign. Tippett says it is also a story. It is not simply an idea or abstract concept. It is personalized; it creates a narrative. It is a story about Vanier or about Mother Teresa or about us doing and being something. Tippett notes that “compassion is unleashed in wider and wider circles by signs and stories, never by statistics and strategies.” This is a great line! I believe Tippett is correct when she claims, we “need stories to survive, to flourish, to change.”
I appreciate Tippett offering me another look at compassion. I have a better way to see and understand it. I actually have a better way to think about how I might show some compassion---in little, simple ways. I can be kind. I can also show tenderness. I certainly can willingly be a sign to others of what compassion looks like in and through me. By doing so, there will be a story created. When we tell a story, we begin by saying something like this: “when I did this…”
The good news is we can all do it; we can all be compassionate.
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