Skip to main content
Compassion

On the radio a few days ago there was a piece about refugees arriving by boat to the shores of a country that in the past had been welcoming, but this time people were yelling angrily and running into the water to block the boats from landing.  The boats were full and there were children on board. The turmoil and anger in the crowd was audible. I don’t speak their language, but the reporter said that people blocking the boats were shouting “Go back home. We don’t care about the babies.”

I was repulsed. I could not stop thinking about it. “We don’t care about the babies.” What would it take for me to say that? For my friends to say that? My neighbors? Horrible thought, that people I know might be moved to yell at desperate people “We don’t care about the babies.” I started to ask myself how that could happen, what it would feel like to push away needy people and shout “I don’t care about the babies.”

Please don’t stop reading when I tell you that suddenly my heart leapt to those who were yelling and pushing. How frightened they must be. How little they must have to feel secure about and how much to dread. What must have happened to them? 

I went on to wonder what it would feel like to be them, to be so changed in my fundamental humanity that I could stop caring about the babies, that I could say that out loud, that I could act on that feeling? What if my basic human values, my feelings, my conscience were so eroded by circumstances that I could say I didn’t care about the babies. How terrible it would feel to be alive if that happened.

This piece could go on to point out the ways that many, right here in this affluent country, don’t care about the babies, with babies as the broadest of metaphors, and all the ways the scene I heard from a foreign country is mirrored in rallies and marches and hateful language here in the US.  All of that is worth thinking about and responding to, but it is not the point that came home to me that day as I listened to the heart-rending story of the people pushing away the boats.

What struck me hard was compassion for the people who are so wounded by their circumstances that they don’t care about the babies. I asked myself what it would feel like to be those people and the answer was it would be hell, it would be worse than dying, it would make me not want to live.

Care about the babies, please do care.  But care also for the ones who cannot care about the babies. We cannot make a peaceful world, a just and kind world, without that compassion.  And we should be aware that, some time, some horrible time, it could be ourselves in need of that compassion.

Elaine Learnard
Conscience Bay Friends Meeting




Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Time

My mind has been thinking about time and how it seems to be different now with all of what is happening. First there is COVID-19 and our stay-in-place semi-lockdown.  For those who have full-time jobs, and even for those who don't, we schedule things around moments in time.  Our lives are routine-based:  when we get up, when we eat, when we work, when we have time for family, when we have time to ourselves, when we sleep, etc.  When our routines are disrupted, many of us feel out of sorts or even lost.  What happened?  Why is this happening?  When is it (routine) coming back?  I've heard that there are many Americans who find it difficult to take a vacation, a real vacation of a week or two, because it takes them away from their work for too long.  As we are gradually allowed to come back to our former lives before COVID-19, perhaps we will have a better sense of time, our old time.  But then again, maybe time will never be the same. ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Next steps?

At last night's community forum,  Belief and Truth from a Multifaith Perspective: Finding Unity in Diversity , many expressed a desire to continue these kinds of conversations and to take action together for building bridges in our community. These are some of the ideas that were shared for next steps: Find something concrete that we can work on together in our community Come out with a statement to the community about this gathering Have clergy visit other houses of worship for teaching and conversation  Invite people of other faiths or no faith traditions into our houses of worship Bring younger people into our interfaith programs Ask elected officials to talk about this kind of work Identify root causes of hatred and address them Encourage media coverage of our programs What other ideas do you have for next steps? Please share them in the comments.
2 comments
Read more
I did not want to write about this virus-time. I did not think I could.  Another piece was in my mind this week, not quite yet taking shape. But when I sat to write, the virus took my attention and I could not wrest it back.   There are useful and funny memes online, and stories of good will and good works, and words of inspiration and comfort. And terrible stories, too.  Mostly at a distance, we have been sharing dance and art and music, facts and opinions, cautionary tales and fairy tales. We miss hugs and doing projects and working and learning together in person. Sometimes we are in a bubble for a while that lets us just be, free of anxiety or fear.  Sometimes we cannot get out of bed.  Sometimes we cannot sleep.  Sometimes we eat all the chocolate and sometimes we eat nothing.  We who are privileged live like this.  We are grateful to the people who work at the jobs we need to have done even in t...
Post a Comment
Read more