Practicing love

Matthew 14:14

“When he looked upon them, he had compassion…”

Christ entered into communion with whomever happened to be before him. He listened, took in, and then met others as they were. His redemptive work flowed from his understanding of the other—his response was rooted in truly entering the existence of another. 

Easier said than done.

The Random House Dictionary of the English Language (1983) listed over 1100 references beginning “self-,” starting with self-abandonment and ending with self-wrought. I fear the 2013 edition of the dictionary will have added quite a few more to that list. We live in a culture dominated by self. Even the contemplative life is seen mainly as a therapeutic tool to make ME feel better, less stressed, and working toward a healthy life. The more ancient practice of praying to become more and more aware of the suffering of the world and working for its healing seems diminished. The Church struggles mightily with this issue. Megachurches bloom from twelve people meeting in a school gym to 12000 people in a Taj Mahal in a short time preaching a gospel of self-gratification, self-aggrandizement, and self-fulfillment. That becomes the working model. 

And we are left hungry. Suffering comes and there are no tools to meet it. The example of Christ of self-emptying as a means to fulfillment eludes us. We simply do not speak that language. 

Here’s a possibility for recapturing what we lack, a means by which to change of fixation on ME and an US/THEM worldview into a simple acknowledgment of WE that brings with it peace, hope, and care for all.

Begin with the recognition that every person is a child of God. Instead of focusing on the differences, find the things that draw us together—the similarities, the common interests, the mutual needs. See the link between oneself and whomever is before us. There are many things we share with other people simply in being human beings. Look for them first.

Next, simply accept whomever is before us as they are. Their journey brought them to this place in this time. Meet them there. Meet them with compassion, for there will be scars, needs, wants, doubts, fears, etc. balled up within them just as those things are within each of us. Take them as they come. 

Then, affirm them as worthy. They are unique acts of God’s creative will; ergo, they are beloved by God whoever they are. They have value simply because they live. Meet them as the treasure they are. 

You will notice that up to this point, we have done nothing. We have not yet spoken. We have not yet acted. This process cannot be rushed. But it is not something so slow that it cannot be done in real life, in real interactions—the above steps take a few seconds—surely a person is worth that wait.

Now, we begin our response—we listen deeply. We take in the full reality of who they are as they present themselves. Who are they? Where are they? How are they? People communicate in all sorts of ways. Listen for all of them—words, affect, body posture, facial expression—all become signposts to be read. 

As we listen, we understand. We take in what they present. We understand where they are and how they feel about being there. We begin to see their needs. We begin to see what we might say or do. 

So, we respond with that understanding. We meet them with what they need in that moment. As Christ met the crowds, he was able to take in all of their presence. Matthew says as he did so, he began to heal them. Healing comes in many forms. Acceptance, affirmation, and listening can all be forms of healing because they are things so many human beings are starving to find. There is enough judgment, rejection, and dislike. It hurts all of us, so try something different. Respond with a deep appreciation of the other, seeking to understand them as they are. 

Part of that response is walking with someone else. To not leave someone alone can be a tremendous embodiment of grace. Sometimes that is all we really want—just the assurance that we are not alone in whatever suffering we endure. We want to know someone else has been there, done that, and survived. We want to know someone will listen to us without judgment or even a need to offer advice that reflects more about who they are rather than where we are. Simply walk with someone else. Go with them; be with them.

Then comes the miracle.

We find we are transformed—the helper gets helped, the needy one find fullness. Compassion grows giver and receiver. We all become more than we were. Note that in Christ’s ministry—each act, each miracle of grace, left the one met more aware of their existence as a child of God; but it also allowed Christ to grow ever more full as the Christ—more understood him. That miracle repeats with us. The giver loses self, but find more surely who they really are; recipient loses emptiness, finding hope that things can be well.

As this transformation takes root within us, we find the eternal presence of God. The Kingdom of God is not far off, it is right here. As we embody love, God lives through us (1 John 4:7-12). Entering that presence transcends who and what we are, lifting us into the full redeeming grace of God that tells us that all shall be well. 

It all comes through engaged compassion.

There IS a way for us to find Christ every day.