Showing posts with label Emotion. Show all posts

Empathy is the Rope That Binds Us Together

empathyImage by kygp via Flickr

But empathy may very well be our best emotion — it is that fiery thing that welds all our brokenness into something resembling community. It’s the rope that binds us together.

Empathy makes us dig for weeks in the rubble for that one lost soul. Empathy compels us to design the artificial limbs so that the double-amputee can walk again. Empathy mandates that we clean out that extra bedroom and offer it to the refugee, for as long as they need it. Empathy knocks us to our knees when the neighbor’s child is found dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound. Empathy gives us the courage to clean the bedsores of the man crippled for ten years now after that awful fall from his horse. Empathy makes us get up on cold winter mornings to serve biscuits and hot coffee to those who slept fitfully on frozen ground. Empathy enables us to say to the couple with cancer — “I am praying for you. I’ll be by Tuesday to clean your house and mow your lawn so you can take Sadie to the zoo.”

As Lord Tennyson once advised: ” I must lose myself in action, lest I wither in despair.”

Quote from Karen Spears Zacharias


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Sadness

de profundis / the depths of sorrowphoto © 2006 Eddy Van 3000 | more info (via: Wylio)
I'm OK...or at least I will be.  I'm trying to emotionally care for others and myself after some deaths in our congregation.  I'm trying to learn from this experience and not hide from it.  I'm trying to experience the grieving process even as I help others with theirs.  It's not easy when there's work to be done (charge conference and memorial service this weekend) and a play to put on (tonight is opening night).

I'll be OK.  But I am sad.  I do mourn.  My emotions have been hit hard. 

And, you know, that's OK as well.

I found this quote and thought it was highly appropriate.  The bold is my own.

When the church’s theological rejection of sadness was secularised, sadness became a pathology requiring medical intervention. The medicalisation of sadness is the final cultural triumph of the Protestant smile. If Luther or Kierkegaard or Dostoevsky had lived today, we would have given them Prozac and schooled them in positive thinking. They would have grinned abortively – and written nothing. The truth of sadness is the womb of thought.

(HT to Richard Hall, who got this from Ben Myers)
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