Is
it what we feel or what we do that determines whether
we're a compassionate person? Eric Harrison probes the
true nature of compassion.
I imagine most of us feel somewhat shamefaced about
compassion. Jesus, in his typically provocative way,
said to the rich man, "Sell all you have and give
the money to the poor, if you want to enter the kingdom
of God." Jesus knew perfectly well he wouldn't
do it.
Against that kind of standard we all fall short. We're
know we're much more calculating in our generosity.
If you gave to the Asian tsunami fund, you probably
thought something like "Will $50 or $100 or $200
be enough?" Enough for what? Enough to make us
feel good? Compassion is commonly flavoured with guilt.
We know we place self interest way ahead of compassion.
How much did you give to charity last year? It was probably
something like "99 per cent for me, one per cent
for them" at best. Furthermore, we know that self
interest works. We can't say the same for compassion.
Compassion is supposed to be good for everyone concerned,
yet we also know that it often goes wrong. Some people
"love too much", and sacrifice themselves
stupidly to others. Many people help others blindly
and inappropriately, more to assuage their own needs.
Compassion is often a cover for manipulation and power.
Foreign aid commonly forces poor nations to become vassals
of the donor country. Evangelical churches typically
praise compassion and generosity, and then expect you
to tithe 10 per cent of your income to them.
The great scientist Richard Dawkins in his book The
Selfish Gene even argued that compassion is a myth.
He said that all apparently altruistic behaviour is
selfish at heart. Because we are social animals and
can't survive alone, we indirectly help ourselves when
we help others in our tribe or community. Of course,
many people do sacrifice themselves for the sake of
others, but Dawkins has an answer for that. He said
that our primary instinct is not to stay alive, but
to get our genes into the next generation. If we can't
have offspring ourselves, the next best thing is to
ensure that the progeny of our closest kin survive.
So a wolf who gives up his share of food to the dominant
breeding pair and helps protect and care for their pups
is not being altruistic. He is just helping his genes
into the future.
The idea that all our behaviour is fundamentally motivated
by self interest goes back a long way. "All things
are done for the sake of self", said the Buddha.
Even charity, in the East, is linked to the idea that
it will give you a better rebirth.
The idea that altruism is unnatural received a huge
boost with the Darwinian theory of evolution, which
seemed to prove that Nature, "red in tooth and
claw", is a ruthless battleground for the survival
of the fittest.
This idea was immediately applied to politics. Social
Darwinism argued that the poor, the sick and the weak
should not be cared for, but allowed to die. It argued
that compassion, charity and welfare were unnatural
Christian imposts on the vigour of a strong society.
Because this idea led naturally to the Nazi philosophy
of weeding out those they judged as social undesirables,
it has fallen somewhat out of favour nowadays.
Yet the question still remains: "What's in it
for you?" Why do we help and care for others? Why
do we raise children, for example? Parents probably
surrender more of their time, money, health and personal
prospects for their children than anyone else. Their
generosity is colossal if rarely appreciated by anyone.
Yet because parents get satisfaction from what they
do, we can't say their actions are perfectly selfless.
Even if compassion is rarely pure, it may still be
a great virtue. But what exactly is it? Is it a feeling,
or an action or both? Can you have one without the other?
The word "com-passion" literally means "to
feel the suffering, or passion, of another". This
kind of deep sympathy is an emotional response that
is quite distinct from any subsequent action you might
take. Some people feel the pain of the world intensely,
even if they can't do much to help, while others don't
feel much at all. Are those who feel the truly compassionate
ones? This deep empathy is what the word implies.
Nonetheless, we generally assume that compassion implies
action. In fact, we can see someone as compassionate
regardless of their capacity for feeling. Bill Gates,
the world's richest man, has now devoted virtually all
his wealth to charity. He doesn't seem to be a particularly
warm or sympathetic individual. He knows the poor in
Africa are suffering, but does he actually feel their
suffering the way they do? We see him as compassionate
because of what he does to help, not because of his
depth of feeling.
So why does he do it? It is probable that Christianity
has played a part. All great cultures encourage compassion
as a way of forming cohesive, mutually supportive communities,
but it is easy to see this as merely enlightened self
interest. Jesus was unique in demanding that we also
love people outside the tribe.
The Jewish prophets before him spoke only to Jews,
and honoured Judaic law. Jesus, on the other hand, addressed
those on the margins of Jewish society or outside it.
He consorted with publicans, prostitutes, Romans and
sinners. His message was that you should love and care
for anyone, just as they are, and you don't expect them
to behave like you. In other words, he cut compassion
loose from its tribal base and universalised it.
Despite this message, Christianity would have remained
a Jewish cult if it wasn't for St Paul. He said you
don't have to take on the whole Judaic law to follow
Jesus. Being an adult Gentile, he probably didn't want
to be circumcised. This was why Christianity was able
to transcend Judaism and sweep throughout the ancient
world.
In Christianity, compassion is both a feeling and an
action. The great symbol of compassion as a feeling
is that of Jesus on the cross, taking on the suffering
of the world. Yet Christianity also demands action as
well.
"By their fruits shall ye know them," said
the Bible. To be a good Christian, you have to put your
money where your mouth is. For the past 2000 years,
Christians have been feeding the hungry, helping the
orphans and widows and caring for the sick and dying,
regardless of whether they are Christian or not. They
have also cajoled and persuaded the rich and powerful
to do the same, in order to be seen as good citizens.
Hence the monumental scale of charity, philanthropy
and welfare in the West.
This idea of universal compassion is now embedded in
our secular institutions. The idea of letting the poor
and the sick die on the streets is anathema to us. All
Western governments are committed to social welfare,
even if it costs 10 per cent of the budget. Even the
whole ethos of communism is Christian at heart. This
brings us to another question. Is compassion natural
or is it a social construct? If it was natural, we should
find it fairly equally in all societies. In fact, compassion
in the form of charity, philanthropy and welfare is
almost entirely a Western phenomenon. In the East, the
idea is much weaker. It is more of a mindset of tolerance,
friendliness and non-hostility, rather than an action.
If compassion is good, can we become more compassionate?
We can always be more friendly and helpful, but can
we actually "feel the suffering of others"
any more than we are naturally capable of?
I suspect we are born with a greater or lesser capacity
for empathy that we can't do much about. At one extreme,
we see the little kids who are distressed to see a dying
bug. At the other, we have the "greed is good"
mob. Trying to be more compassionate may be rather like
trying to love your mother and father because it's expected
you would.
Useful as it is to materially help the poor and the
sick, this kind of compassion has its limits. We can
tend to a sick person without actually taking the time
to feel what that person is feeling. We may act out
of guilt or pity or duty, but without that deep empathy
that should be at the heart of compassion. There is,
however, a proven way of becoming more empathetic, and
that is to suffer more yourself. If you don't know what
pain is like, how can you feel another's pain? As we
get older, we understand so much more of the loss, sickness,
failure and depression that are so commonly part of
an ordinary life. To truly help someone, you have to
know what they feel. A healer in any field who has personally
plumbed the depths will be better than some bright young
thing straight out of university or college.
In fact, true compassion is not about money or medical
care. It is about "feeling with" another.
It is about "seeing" and accepting an individual
just as he or she is, in this moment. This may be the
kindest thing we can ever do. Many people are very lonely,
even though surrounded by people and activity. They
go through life never having been "seen" by
anyone.
Neither you nor I can be compassionate in the Bill
Gates style, but we can love the people we meet. We
can do this through empathy, listening, silence and
a willingness to make a space for the other in our minds.
This kind of compassion is possible for all of us, every
day.
Eric Harrison runs the Perth Meditation Centre www.perthmeditationcentre.com.au
Artwork by Annie Otness: www.ozartworks.com
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