Tag: compassion

Unlimited Compassion

~ Deb ~ Leave a comment

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.  

Conversion Blues

~ Deb ~ 1 Comment

In the almost 40+ years I’ve been deconstructing my inherited faith and discovering a lived and meaningful spirituality, I’ve known a shit-ton of people.  Each of those people brought a unique perspective from a unique place on a unique path. One of my core beliefs is that all paths lead up the mountain. I deeply value the insight others bring, and I only ask the same respect in return for my own path.  

Overwhelmingly, the people I’ve met along the way have been those who, much like me, walked away from a rigid, one-pointed belief where they were taught to accept a particular ideology completely and put all others into a pile labeled “evil.”  Not “unimportant,” or “useless,” or even “rejected.”  “Evil.”  The evangelicalism of my youth taught me that if I was not 100% pro-Jesus as they understood him, then I was worse than neutral; I was on Satan’s payroll and guided by demons.  

It takes a lot to shake that.  So those of us who do and then find each other are often immensely grateful to have encountered kindred spirits.  And because the deconstruction has included an opening of the heart and mind to the beauty in so many spiritual paths, this group is usually quite diverse.  While often eschewing specific labels, most of my spiritual tribe tends to be those who take inspiration and comfort in Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism, Paganism, Sikhism, Wicca, and whatever other path one might add to the mix.     

But here’s where it gets weird.  A couple of times, rarely and randomly, someone will come into my circle, usually a younger person, who displays great open-mindedness and a natural bent toward the esoteric and mystical.  About the time I’m thinking, “oh, how wonderful it would be to have been that free so young,” they post something to social media announcing their conversion to Christianity.  And then it builds. They post more and more. Eventually, they share pictures of the mega-church they now belong to.  Instead of the latest Tik-Tok dance, they’re now posting Bible verses.  

Now that, in and of itself, is wonderful.  All paths lead up the mountain, and if this is their path, then I’m so happy they’ve found it. The rub comes, though, when they’ve bought in so completely that their posts begin condemning all other paths.  New Christian converts seem to pass into the “I’ve got to save everyone from hell” phase quite quickly. 

They’ve moved from joy to condemnation without skipping a beat, which makes an awkward dance-move.  

In full disclosure, I’ve seen this happen twice in 40+ years, so we’re not talking about a tsunami here.  I often find that people who open their minds rarely close them again.  And for fear I am misunderstood, let me emphasize that the closing of the mind is not in converting to Christianity; it’s in the off-putting and judgmental sense of spiritual superiority that sometimes accompanies it. 

I’m curious about their path.  I wonder if this will stick or a more expansive appreciation will return for them.  I wonder what the twists and turns will do to them in the dark nights of the soul they are undoubtedly yet to experience — not because they’re Christian but because they’re babies.  I wonder if they will ever again have a moment of darkness in which they see light coming from a Rumi poem or a Buddhist idea or a new moon.  I wonder if they’ll leave room for the mystic Yeshua, the Jesus of the Gnostics.  

So many places they will go.  So many miles down the path that is theirs to trod.  

I don’t judge their path.  I wish them well on it.  I wish them eyes that see and ears that hear.  I wish them peace and freedom.  I wish them an experience of the Sacred that renders them speechless and transformed.  I wish them enlightenment, nirvana, moksha, even if they only ever call it sanctification.  

Mostly, I pray they will see the Jesus they love as a champion for compassion rather than a measuring stick for judgment.