40 Days of Compassion

A lot of my thinking regarding compassion has focused on the homeless, or on people in difficult circumstance. These people tend to fall into the category of ‘deserving of compassion.’

Yesterday, a conversation with coworkers regarding the story of a pregnant woman who was attacked by a neighbor woman, grabbed the attacker’s knife and killed her with her own weapon. We sat there over our turkey sandwiches, agreeing that there was a certain satisfaction in hearing of someone killing their merciless assailant. I quickly concluded it to have been a ‘righteous kill.’

Last night, I happened upon a long article written by Nate Phelps, son of the notorious Fred Phelps, ‘pastor’ of the infamous Westboro Baptist Church, infamous for staging highly-inappropriate protests at various soldier funerals. The guy who forces his own children to hoist placards inscribed ‘God Hates Fags.’

These two things have got me thinking about compassion. Specifically, do I even need to concern myself with compassion for people like this? People who plot to cut a fetus out of their neighbor’s body? People who scream black hatred at mourners of a heroic casualty of war? Are these people worthy of my compassion?

What would I do if I was faced with a decision whereby I had the opportunity to lend a helping hand or even a mere smile to a person I would fairly regard as my enemy?

I’m not really certain. I suppose someone crazy enough to think that by removing the unborn child of another, they would be gaining a child of their own, is obviously deranged and has some sort of mental problem that has rendered them incapable of acting sanely. These people surely need to be kept away from innocent citizens and treated for whatever illness is destroying their mind.

But this is just a way to separate myself from that portion of society, I suppose. I can go on living my life without having to deal with them.

I don’t know how I would behave if I stumbled upon Mr. Phelps. After reading about the brutal dictatorship that is his home and the fashion in which he has raised a dozen children, I feel such anger that I fear I would not act in much of a Christ-like manner.

I suppose that’s what my internal conflict really boils down to. The satisfaction that this righteous indignation sparks is so alluring, I’m not entirely certain I could resist acting on it in terrible ways, if I happened to be faced with a truly monstrous enemy. However, I have been charged to love my enemies.

It is a difficult thing we have been discussing in here for the past several weeks and I am thankful for the opportunity to dwell on these issues in such a way that forces me to confront ideas and feelings all too easily left unchecked. At the end of this, I don’t know how much closer I am to any real conclusions, but at least I can positively say that I am actively working on strengthening my own sense of compassion in all aspects of my life.