On Compassion

Did you know that the word for compassion in Hebrew (rachamim) is rooted in the word womb (rechem)? This is not to say that women are more naturally compassionate, but some Jewish thinkers suggest that when we show our compassion and mercy (the word is used for both), we are giving birth to goodness in the world. 
 
This month I took an online course on Radical Compassion with scholars like Tara Brach (meditation/compassion researcher), Kristen Neff (self-compassion work), Jon Kabat-Zinn (Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction - MBSR), and others. One of the themes that came up again and again was how we need to find compassion for ourselves in order to find compassion for others and, if we are serious about compassion, that compassion has to extend to those with whom we disagree. . 
 
One of the speakers was Krista Tippett from the podcast On Being (which I love and recommend!). She spoke about how we are now engaged in a kind of political trench warfare. We are dug in, stuck, no way to reach the other side. 
 
Pursuing the difficult work of self-compassion I tried to look at things I’ve done that I’m not proud of and forgive myself (the sort of teshuvah work we do at the Jewish High Holidays). I also tried to think of and connect with people with whom I disagree to see if we could find some common ground. Is this easy? No! I hate it! :) But is it important? Yes. 

Another really difficult challenge is sending compassion out to people who do bad things. We may not like their choices or behaviour, but it helps to try and seek out their motivation and, despite feeling angry or hurt, connect with their humanity.
 

I did a little Shabbat Live video on Jewish connections to compassion (click here to see it) and then a funny thing happened: someone created a fake email for me to try to swindle some of my congregants out of money as part of a large-scale scam (you can read more about that one here). I did not love that experience. But what an opportunity to practice radical compassion! I tried to imagine why someone might do this. I tried to tap into the hurt of those who were scammed and send them positive thoughts. This was a terrible thing but/and it’s also wonderful to think about the fact that the reason this scam worked was that so many Jewish people take seriously our ideals around charity/giving/justice. They respond when a rabbi wants to help others. How nice! And the people in charge of the scam? I can’t believe they are really happy and healthy individuals. Only hurt people hurt people. So I sent them some positive thoughts too.

We all wish to be understood. We all could do with a little more compassion. There are many Jewish teachings about compassion but I’m choosing to focus on the root (literally) of the word. What could we birth in ourselves if we showed ourselves more compassion? What could we birth in the world if we gave more compassion to others? 

This was my beloved bicycle and someone stole the back tire. When I went back to retrieve it the whole thing had been stripped down to almost nothing. Sending compassion to the bike thieves as well as all those who have had their beloved bikes/bike …

This was my beloved bicycle and someone stole the back tire. When I went back to retrieve it the whole thing had been stripped down to almost nothing. Sending compassion to the bike thieves as well as all those who have had their beloved bikes/bike parts stolen!

Nothing is promised

I teach at a university, and specifically, I teach people becoming teachers. I have been in that role since 2012 and have had many fantastic candidates come through my classes. There is one that I can say is one of the best of the best. I watched him teach last year and thought, “this guy is better than most of the career teachers I’ve seen.” The school he was placed at tried to figure out how to hire him even though he still had a year left to finish his degree. And this person is not only a gifted teacher, he is a fabulous actor, a wonderful friend, a terrific student, a genuinely good-hearted person. I’m sure he saves puppies and sews booties for new babies on the side. Ok, maybe not that. But he is a truly terrific person through and through.

This past week he came to me and told me he has cancer. He is an otherwise healthy, twenty-eight year old. He doesn’t smoke, barely drinks, stays active, and takes good care of himself. Cancer.

I don’t need to tell you that this kind of thing happens without rhyme or reason and simply isn’t fair.

I don’t need to tell you that in the absence of believing in some higher power with some master plan, we have to boldly and bravely look at the chaos of the universe and accept our place in it.

And I’m sure I don’t need to tell you, for we’ve all heard many times, that stories like this are a reminder to be grateful for what we have, and it’s our job to remember that nothing in life is promised to us. We are lucky if we are healthy. We are lucky if we get to live out our lives until old age.

So this message isn’t that. I do think it’s a good reminder to practice gratitude. But, for a moment, let’s just stick with the unfairness of it all. Because that’s where I’m stuck just right now and sometimes we have to just sit with it. I know that the “right” answer is to focus on the positive. But right now I want to focus on the pain of it. I am trying to really feel things lately, not simply reason or explain or distract myself away from them.

I am sad for him and his loved ones. I am sad for all those who suffer needlessly and senselessly. I am a little shaken by how unfair things really are. And I’m angry — why? Directed at whom? There’s no reason or purpose to it. Sometimes we just feel angry.

As Secular Humanistic Jews we tend to move towards the rational. Obviously I think this is a good thing. Lots of people have called our movement “Rational Judaism.” I’m a fan of using our brains, accepting science, figuring through problems, and evaluating our world through empirical data. I’m pro-reason. And (not but, and) sometimes it is reasonable to be unreasonable. Sometimes we just have to get through tough feelings and emotions, and sit with them, and accept that, sure, the world is made of chaos, and cancer doesn’t discriminate, and someone is going to get it so why not him... we can use our brains all we want but the feelings are still there and still matter.

I don’t call what we do and who we are “Rational Judaism” because, to me, being rational isn’t the point or purpose. I connect to Judaism to fulfill my spiritual and emotional needs. I have a university to foster the rational stuff. The rational has to do with how we access Judaism — we want it to be human-centred and earth-centred, based in a knowable reality. We don’t want our Judaism to conflict with what we know from science, archaeology, or other empirical data. So we work to create a Judaism that thrives without the supernatural. But we can’t stop at what we *don’t* believe. We have to move to what we do believe: Jewish culture adds meaning, depth, and beauty to our lives, community empowers us, our purpose is in doing good. The rationality isn’t the purpose. The emotional/spiritual is the purpose and we just don’t want the obstacles to rationality to get in the way.

This is my invitation to all of us to allow ourselves to hang out in the realm of the emotional a little bit more. Let’s give ourselves permission to really feel our feelings.

I won’t stay mad/sad at this situation forever. I know I will eventually move on to a place of acceptance and hope.

I have every confidence that this student of mine will be fine; he has good care and a good prognosis. I know for sure that my amazing colleagues are already doing all we can to make sure he is cared for and supported. There is lots of reason for hope. I understand that all of this will ultimately make me reflect with gratitude on my own health and the health of my loved ones. For now, though, I get to feel what I feel. It takes practice but it’s the only way to fully experience this crazy ride called being alive. And now, especially now, I want to really experience it.