Compassion is real
I know I’m not the only one who feels overwhelmed. Or discombobulated. And yes, a bit alarmed. But this I am learning: when life gets precarious (hard-hitting), it is easy to forget (overlook) that inside every one of us—in our DNA—we have the tools that we need, to navigate unpredictable times. Yes, the “tools”—the empowerment to draw upon mercy and compassion—to create places of sanctuary, and healing, and grace.
“We met Jesus, yesterday,” Monica tells me. “It was our usual Tuesday morning, and we were driving the streets of Reno giving out food and water to the homeless. It is a regular charity project by the Helping Hands of St. Theresa of the Little Flower Church. In the recent past the Homeless were congregated in large groups; so, it was easy to find and administer to them, but now due to new regulations and Police pressure, they were scattered, making it a game of hide and seek.
Find them we did, and were down to only one last serving, just as we prepared to drive on, a middle-aged black man rode up on a rickety bicycle. We offered him our last dinner and water, which he readily accepted. Great! We had completed our work. Wait, another man, filthy, disheveled, hobbled over to us. ‘Sorry, we just gave out our last food,’ we apologetically told him. The man on the bicycle said, ‘My brother looks like he needs this more than I do,’ and offered his food to the man. It could have been a bible story of a past event, but it was a today happening. We met Jesus, yesterday.” (Thank you, Monica Armanino)
And I received this note from Joyce. “Your Sabbath Moment reminded me of one my dad, a United Methodist minister for over 50 years, used to use during Advent season. It is a poignant one. Always makes me cry. So, the pageant was taking place, and the children portraying Mary and Joseph were trudging up the center aisle of the sanctuary toward the ‘inn’. The boy playing the innkeeper met them and told them he had no room… they would have to move along. ‘Mary’ and ‘Joseph’ turned and began slowly making their way elsewhere. Suddenly, the boy playing the innkeeper called out, ‘Wait! You can have my bed!’” (Thank you, Joyce Gingrich)
My friends. Let us embrace the invitation to affirm that compassion and mercy are real. Let us listen with our open heart, and let us see one another with mercy and compassion, and let us find the strength and hope to rise together, in love and understanding.
I can tell you my heart needs stories that remind me (and assure me), that compassion and kindness and mercy and inclusion are real.
Because what really matters, is how we treat one another.
So. How do we choose to say “yes” to this invitation?
This heartfelt story comes to mind. Glenn Adsit and his family spent years as missionaries in China. During the Communist regime change, they were under house arrest. One day a few Chinese soldiers came to their house, and said, “You can return to America.”
The Adsit’s were celebrating, when the soldiers told them, “You can take only two hundred pounds with you.” Well, they had been in China for years. Two hundred pounds? They found the scales and started the family arguments. Each—wife, husband and the two children—had an opinion. Must have this vase. Well, this is my new typewriter. What about my books? What about my collection? And they weighed everything, took each item off the scales, weighed and re-weighed until finally, right on the dot, they had two hundred pounds.
The soldier asked, “Ready to go?” “Yes.”
“Did you weigh everything?” “Yes.”
“You weighed the kids?” “No, we didn’t.”
“Weigh the kids.”
And in a moment, the special vase, the new typewriter, the collections, all of it, became “trash.”
Secondary. Just stuff.
Using this story to nurse regret is a waste of time. But the story (and its permission to hit the pause button), invites me to hear the crucial question for me (and for us) today: “Did you weigh the kids?”
Which begs the question: How do we measure—how to we carry and honor—what really matters?
We begin here: Our wellbeing—befriending our scattered and wounded self—is not about our reactions to life, but about choices we make from the inside out. About where we tether our identity and worth.
And this I know: it cannot be in stuff that we buy, collect, store, or carry. And it cannot be in the “stuff” of productivity, or accomplishments. Or, in the “stuff” we clutch in the lines on our resume.
And it cannot be about the “stuff” of position, or power, or control.
This story is about how we navigate. The choices we make. For this I am grateful: it helps to ask, and to honor, the right questions. This week, we’ll be making space to do just that.
You see, as long as success is measured by keeping score (weighing or honoring the wrong stuff), we lose track of our well-being that comes from the inside—the self-compassion and others-compassion that makes us human, and therefore, glad to be alive.
As I often say, this isn’t an assignment or a strategy.
It’s not about stuff. Gratefully, I continue to learn. To find success (which we equate with some version of being powerful or huge) doesn’t necessarily mean that you gain health.
Let us not forget what really matters.
In other words, what do we “pack”?
What do we carry with us?
Today, I choose Empathy and kindness.
I choose Integrity and Decency.
I choose Courage and Hope.
I choose Peace and gratitude.
Think of these values as our personal GPS, silently pointing us toward the path that truly matters, to make our world a better place. Count me in. But life does get downright noisy, and those core values can get submerged under day-to-day anxiety, and “societal” expectations.
Back to choices, and what we “pack”. Recently, I read that “someone becomes beautiful when they choose empathy over judgement, gentleness over harshness, and understanding over pride. It appears in small, quiet moments, checking on a friend who is hurting, offering help without being asked, listening with genuine care, or forgiving when it would be easier to hold onto anger.”
A shout out to all the people who were a part of our event in Reno at Little Flower Church. It was a great day of replenishment and renewal.
I returned home to the PNW to new blossoms on so many of our Cherry trees. And I’m looking forward to visiting and walking the University of Washing quad, smiling big, enjoying the iconic Yoshino trees.
Quote for our week…
“Does this path have a heart? If it does, the path is good. If it doesn’t, it is of no use.” Carlos Castaneda
Please invite a friend to join us with Sabbath Moment.
And know that Daily Sabbath Moment is available.
I am so very grateful that you are a part of Sabbath Moment. And grateful for the support that makes it possible. Please, pass Sabbath Moment on to friends. And invite them to join us. My email address tdh@terryhershey.com
BULLETIN BOARD
Today’s Photo Credit: “Dear Terry, When I saw this heart shaped rock in the midst of the Spokane Falls it symbolized strength in the midst of turmoil. And I couldn’t help but wonder if that heart shaped rock was actually created by the tumultuous water surrounding it. Thank you as always for your honest and transparent witnessing to us always! God bless you,” Marguerite Gerontis… Thank you Marguerite… And thank you to all, I love your photos… please, keep sending them… send to tdh@terryhershey.com
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Help make Sabbath Moment possible. I write SM because I want to live with a soft heart; to create a place for sanctuary, empathy, inclusion, compassion and kindness… a space where we are refueled to make a difference. SM remains free.
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POEMS AND PRAYERS
Expectant God
The heavens can no longer hold your abundant love,
So you pour out the gift of your embodied self
Relinquishing the beauty of your majesty,
To adorn the pale colours of our humanity.
Choosing to enter into this world in a place of scarcity and need.
Reveal to us this hidden world
of poverty,
of refugees,
of suffering.
As you choose this as the place of your birth
Let us choose this to be the place of our rebirth.
Rebuild us,
Transform us,
Make us anew.
We ask this through Christ our Lord,
Amen.
Kieran O’Brien
May we who are merely inconvenienced remember those whose lives are at stake.
May we who have no risk factors remember those who are most vulnerable.
May we who have the luxury of working from home respect and support those who must choose between preserving their health or paying their rent.
May we who have the flexibility to care for our children when their schools close remember those who have no options.
May we who are losing our investments, remember those who have no home.
During this time, when we cannot physically wrap our arms around each other, let us each find ways to be the loving embrace of humanity to our neighbors.
Be aware. Be accepting. Be supportive. Be kind.
Amen.
Anonymous
Music for the Soul…
New–
The Face Of Christ — Chris Rice
