dear gentle friends,
I can’t help feeling the holiday spirit this time of year … even a year as challenging as 2023 has been. I grew up in a conservative Christian community and while my value system has evolved dramatically since I was a kid, there are two messages from my days in Sunday school that continue embody the Christmas season for me: the first, “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself” (Matthew 22:39-40), and the second, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” (Matthew 5:5)
Much of the world isn’t Christian, but I’m sharing these verses because I believe the sentiments are shared by most wisdom and faith traditions. For those of you who aren’t Christian, these words can be taken simply as wise words framed by a certain time, place, and belief system. For those of you who identify as Christian, these verses are calls to reconnect with what it means to live in a Christ-like way.
As with everything I write in this newsletter, please take what serves and leave what doesn’t.
Both sentiments are intimately intertwined with gentleness, and are as relevant today as they were two thousand years ago. As we leave one calendar year behind and move into the next, I’m playing around with practices that help me re-connect with both.
1. Everyone is your neighbor
This is a radical concept: all humans – regardless of ethnicity, religion, social status, attractiveness, wealth, or power – are deserving of the kindness, respect, and love we want for ourselves and our loved ones. There aren’t carve-outs for people who have made mistakes or lived life differently than you do. There are no exceptions for people who speak different languages, eat different foods, or vote for different politicians.
But how on earth, particularly at a time with so much division, can you practice the truth that we are all neighbors on this planet? I wish I could say the practice is easy. It isn’t. Every time you feel yourself judging another person harshly, imagine that person is part of your dear ones. Maybe not your best friend or your favorite cousin, but someone toward whom you feel no ill will. Someone who is just a nice person you know, but instead of the stranger you’re judging, imagine this person. It’s remarkable how forgiving our hearts can be for people we feel belong to our group. Each time you practice, you expand your circle of neighbors. The goal is to expand that circle to the point that it includes the entire globe. This doesn’t mean we can’t disagree with our neighbors, but it means that we treat them with dignity, respect, and kindness when we do.
2. We are all vulnerable, and we all need compassion
The word meek gets a bad rap in the modern world. It sounds old-fashioned and, frankly, a little wimpy, but the Greek word πραεις, the basis of modern translations, points to gentleness. The word is concerned with inner equilibrium – the full and complete possession of all the faculties of one’s being, an inner mastery. There is nothing in this verse that points to weakness. Quite the opposite, the word points to strength, to equanimity. The person who is slow to anger – not given to violence, vengeance, or cruelty – shall inherit the earth.
This verse is a powerful reminder of our shared vulnerability. We all will mourn. When we accept this truth, compassion for ourselves and one another becomes the clear way forward.
How does that translate into a practice? Focus on the process as much as the goal. When you support a cause, be mindful of how that goal will be achieved. If you value human life, you cannot separate that principle from cruel and unforgiving laws that treat humans like pawns in a political game. If you live in the United States and support the safety of children, you cannot look the other way about the role of guns in child death rates. The list goes on, but the practice is the same. And the practice is challenging: it demands both integrity and patience. Integrity because it’s easy to say you support a cause, but hard if that cause support methods antithetical to your underlying values. And patience because action grounded in gentleness and compassion is powerful, but often not quick.
I’m not exactly sure what these practices will mean for me or for anyone else in 2024, but I hope that regardless of your religious, spiritual or philosophical bent, you will join me in making an effort to find a skillful way forward based on gentleness and compassion.
warmly,
alison
