I posted a meme to social media recently quoting an influencer named Pastor Brandon. His quote, the one I liked so much that I stole it, is “When I stand before God, I’d rather answer for loving too freely than explain why my theology made people feel unwelcome at His table.”
It reminds me of another favorite quote by another minister, Rev. Eston Williams: “At the end of the day, I’d rather be excluded for who I include than be included for who I exclude.”
Though my personal spiritual journey may differ from these two Christian pastors, I welcome anyone into my energetic circle who maintains inclusive guiding principles such as these. Because, let’s face it, our world could use all the welcome-home, lemme-give-you-a-hug, soup’s-on kind of acceptance it can get these days.
Of COURSE, someone had to leap onto my post and make this comment: “Loving does not mean condoning. Compassion can coexist with strict adherence to God’s laws.”
But can it? Can it really? And what precisely does one mean by “God’s laws”?
Let’s deal with the laws first and get my response to the poster out of the way. My reply was: “Humans made all the laws. The closest thing we have to a divine law is when Yeshua said to love God and love our neighbor as ourself. Everything else is debatable through various lenses of interpretation and culture.”
But the far more important question here is the one about compassion and just what it can and can’t coexist with. Compassion and judgment don’t seem to be natural friends. Judgment comes from a place of moral superiority, a sense of rightness in the face of another’s wrongness. It comes from believing we have the ultimate definition of “God’s Laws.” The Buddhist nun Pema Chödrön said that “Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It’s a relationship between equals.” The delusion of moral superiority cannot exist in the same space as true compassion because it assumes inequality.
Another part of the commenter’s phrase that slips by almost undetected is “strict adherence — Compassion can coexist with strict adherence to God’s laws.”
I’m probably stepping into a deep pool here, but I’m a swimmer, so let’s do it. In and of itself, there is nothing wrong with “strict adherence.” I’d like to live a life that strictly adheres to love and joy and freedom and spiritual expansion. Yet I’ve found that doing so inherently leads me away from words like “strict” and “adherence.” Compassion, just like love and joy and freedom, requires suppleness, flexibility, an artistic walk with the sacred rather than a lockstep adherence to a prescribed set of dos and don’ts. Compassion requires an ever-present awareness of how my sacred urging can meet the needs of the one in front of me, not a creed or manual or how-to book. Compassion requires that I stay awake to the moment, not that I memorize ten commandments or twelve steps or eight beatitudes.
Mostly, I wonder what compels someone to rush judgment into a declaration of inclusion. Why the urgent need to counterbalance an expression of love?
So much in this life leans toward the other side of the scale. It just seems to me that unlimited compassion might be a good way to go.
Soup’s on. Get you a bowl.
Deb Moore 