A Meditation Exercise on Empathy

From Karen Armstrong's Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life:

"Turn your attention to three individuals known to you. It is important to be specific or this exercise will degenerate into meaningless generalities. Call to mind a person for whom you have no strong feelings one way or another; also somebody you like, such as a friend or a family member; and finally someone you dislike...

"In turn...think of their good points, their contribution to your own life; their generosity, courage and sense of humor. Look deeply in their hearts, insofar as you can, and see their pain: the sufferings you are aware of and all the private sorrows that you will never know about. You will then desire them to be free of their pain and resolve to help them in any way you can. Pray for each of your three people the joy that you desire for yourself, and finally admit that you all have faults-- yourself, the person you feel neutral toward, the one you like, as well as the one you find objectionable. You are striving for... the equanimity that enables you to relate to people impartially.

"The meditation obviously becomes more difficult when you try to direct these thoughts of friendship, compassion, joy and even-mindedness to the person you dislike. Stay with this difficulty and become fully aware of it, because it shows how limited your compassion is. We may think that we are compassionate people, but so much of our goodwill is dependent upon subjective likes and dislikes.

"Notice the angry thoughts that arise in your mind when you think of this individual and see how unattractive they are. Other people like her, so it is probable that your dislike stems entirely from her attitude toward you. Does she threaten your interests, get in your way, or behave in a manner that makes you think less well of yourself? If so, your dislike is probably based on ego delusion.... There is nothing immutable or objective about friendship or enmity: nobody is born a friend or an enemy; last year's friend can become next years enemy. She has good and bad qualities, just as you do. Like everybody else in the world, she longs for happiness and wished to be free of pain. She suffers in ways that you will never know. How, therefore, can you single her out for your dislike and refuse to direct your feelings of friendship, compassion, joy and even-mindedness to her?

"Be patient with yourself during this meditation. Do not become irritated if you are distracted or discouraged if you seem to make no progress. Do not feel guilty if you are unable to overcome your feelings of aversion. Practiced over time, this meditation can make a compassionate groove in your mind. It should become part of your daily practice.... It should be a relaxed, ruminative process. It need not-- indeed, should not-- take hours of your time. But if practiced faithfully, it will help you develop two new tools: a capacity for inwardness and the ability to think of others in the same way you think of yourself. Only practice makes perfect, just as it takes years for a dancer to turn a perfect pirouette.

"As you conclude this meditation, make a resolution that today you will translate these good thoughts into a small, concrete practical act of friendship or compassion to one of your three people, if you have the chance. If you do not see them, reach out to someone else who needs a helping hand or a friendly word."

While not specifically doing this meditation (as I have just read it), I have practiced this exercise of empathy on many people-- those whom I liked and those whom I disliked and those whom I liked from a distance but disliked many things close up. I was encouraged to think empathetically by my wife, Diane, who has made a life practice of thinking this way. In fact, for those who know me, if you have met my wife you may find that she is much more pleasant to be around. That's because her practice of empathetic thinking is so much more natural. Frankly, she's a naturally better person.

I believe that this meditation on empathy, practiced on people I knew, is one of the most powerful transformational agent in my life. When I do this, I can see a person in a different light. All of a sudden, they are no longer ignorant, stupid or evil; neither are they exceedingly noble or super-powerful. People are people, both like and unlike me; both unique and yet having the same drives as I. I may want to spend time with them or not, but that does not change their value. And when I understand their value in comparison with myself, I am closer to understanding them with God's eyes.

God loves us all-- we evangelicals say that, but we have a hard time actually believing that or practicing that because we don't take the time to see people through God's eyes. When God looks at an individual, he sees that person as the same as every other person-- an object of loving value. We may nod our heads at this concept, but we do not act this way. Does every person we meet know that we believe that they are loved and valued? No, because some people we meet we are treating as less than ourselves. Some people are automatically seen as The Other, the Outsider, the one whom we have a right to despise or at least ignore. It is in our makeup. We are made as people who both accept and reject. We are judges and we do so every time we shake a hand or give (or choose to not give) a greeting.

If we practice this meditation on a regular basis, we find that we see people as no longer the "Part-of-Us" or The Other. Rather, we see them all as people of value. Some we can benefit, and some we cannot. Some we can appreciate fully, and most we cannot. But we can see the value in everyone we do this exercise toward; and we can give a measure of love to each of them. The more we understand others: their positive qualities, their pains, their limitations, their good and bad choices-- the greater the opportunity we give ourselves to love others.

Ecumenicism

There is a tendency among fundamentalists and evangelicals to reject every tenant of another religion simply because the other religions affirms it. In other words, “if our competition says it’s true, it must be false.” However, this cannot be the case. Islam affirms that God is merciful and all-powerful. Many evangelicals say that Islam worships a different God than we do. Well, how many all-powerful, merciful Gods can there be? Isn’t it simpler to say that we may have a different interpretation of the One God rather than denying their God altogether? Certainly, we do not want to deny that our God is one, all powerful and merciful, and we cannot deny that Muslims so affirm their God to be.

“All truth is God’s truth” is a “truism”. In other words, no matter where truth is found, if it is real, a reflection of that which exists, then we must affirm it. If we find truth about reality or God or whatever in science or in other religions, then we must affirm it. And if we can work together on the truth we affirm, then why shouldn’t we? If we find, as Bible-based Christians, that we should rule the earth with compassion toward all creatures, then why can we not work with Buddhists and environmentalists who have that same goal. We don’t have to agree with their metaphysics or their theology to work together in this one goal.

So Karen Armstrong affirms that all the major world religions have compassion in common. I want to look at that, as we read her book, but if that is a given, then why can we not affirm that? Why can we not work together with other religions on aspects of compassion? Even as many religions can work together to affirm human life, whether in the womb or children in danger of war or slavery, why can we not work together in other aspects of compassion, or even affirming compassion together?

A good goal is worth working together on, even if we might disagree on other ideals.

Science or "Science"

I'm going to start posting some reflections on Karen Armstrong's book, Twelve Steps To A Compassionate Life.

Karen Armstrong is one of the most important theological historians of our day. However, her style of theological history is specificly “scientific”. What do I mean by this?

There are two ways that the term “science” is meant. First, we have the “scientific method”. This is a method of discovering truth in which one does a repeatable experiment to determine what is real. This can be done in any context that can be seen or measured in some way. Thus, the scientific method is “materialistic” in that it can determine truth in anything that can be measured. What humanity has been shocked at is how many things can be measured. From this, astronomy – the determination of the movement of the heavens—replaced astrology—the spiritual narrative of the movement of the heavens. Chemistry—the use and manipulations of elements based on atomic numbers—has replaced alchemy—elemental guesswork. And forensics—applications of the scientific method, especially DNA evidence to criminal justice—is beginning to replacing witnesses in courtrooms. In history, archeology is informing the historical stories that have been told for millennia.

There is another kind of “science” however, which is more philosophical in nature. This is the idea that only that can be measured is actually real. It is a denial of anything that cannot be measured. It is the denial of the spirit world, or at least an extreme agnosticism about a spirit world, that even if it did exist, we cannot determine the effect of it on our world. It is the denial of a history in which events that do not seem plausible occur. It is the denial of the use of language which affirms some sort of fate or personal power beyond what we see.

The interesting thing about this philosophical kind of science is that it is, in some way, a denial of the scientific method. For the scientific method, while it has theories and assumptions, it does not affirm these theories until it has been proven with experiments. Since assumptions about reality that cannot be measured cannot, by definition, be measured, then no “proof” of the reliability of such a theory is possible.

Karen Armstrong is a historian of that second kind of science. This does not mean that she doesn’t do her history well. What makes her so good is that she is a good reader of ancient texts. She is thorough and tries to be compassionate to the text. However, if the simplest understanding of the text is in disagreement with her basic materialistic interpretation, then she will seek a different interpretation. The story of the Exodus is too full of miracles, so she must create a new interpretation. In her book, The Case for God, she speaks about the need for religion, but not the fact or necessity of God as a real entity. This is because she sees religion as a primarily psychological phenomenon, as a success of the human spirit, rather than as the spirit world breaking into this world.

The main problem with Ms. Armstrong approaching religion or history in this way, is that one must deny how the original authors and the majority of religionists see the reality of their narratives. She is in the business of affirming part of their stories but denying a good portion of them as well. This may seem positive to those who agree with her materialism-only philosophy, but it does not communicate to the majority of religionists, to whom she is trying to communicate with her book, Twelve Steps To A Compassionate Life.

So why am I spending any time with her work at all? First of all, because she is an important voice. She is, in a sense, creating a new religion. A religion which denies the spiritual, which has been attempted before, but never has anyone had such ecumenical support for this idea. This approach will not be accepted by the majority of religionists, but the broad base of support from different religions is interesting.

The other interesting aspect of her work is the attempt to have a moral agreement between all the major world religions. And the foundation of this moral agreement—compassion—is an essential basis for two of the religions in question: Buddhism and Christianity. Because of this, I am interested to explore what she says and whether it matches, or even comes close to, biblical Christianity.