The Wisdom of Entering Into Another's Pain

A Cue for Contemporary Spiritual Leadership and Communication

I once dreamed of hosting a radio show. What would it entail? Conversations with theologians and philosophers, religious leaders and mystics, artists, scientists, and generally people who deal in aspects of a great tradition of wisdom. The tone would evoke the dulcet timbre of a trout-filled stream and bespeckled with intoxicating yet motivating elements of joy, even rapture. 

When I eventually heard the soul-full and curious air of Krista Tippett on her former NPR show Speaking of Faith, which would become On Being, you would have thought me elated to know that what I had once dreamed of existing had indeed already existed. But I am a jealous and sorry creature, so the wistful feeling of missing a personal opportunity also shaded my happiness for her work. That feeling subsided soon, however, as I realized that Tippett had already done the intellectual development and personal soul-work to bring this gift to the world; indeed, her wisdom surpassed my own; I knew I must listen to her conversations and pursuits. Doing so would surpass all my once-held desires for my influence and voice in this slice of our world. In short, Tippett is an example for my intellectual and spiritual life, and I have always found joy in learning from her work that she does so well. 

Tippett's book Becoming Wise: An Inquiry into the Mystery and Art of Living contains a treasure box full of quotable and better, liveable wisdom as we think about the life of meaning in our struggling age. And we would be hard-pressed not to take many of her cues, for she is one standing approved who has insightfully touched the spiritual pulse of our age. Tippett says, "We are at such an interesting, unnerving moment. As we take up the task of inventing common life for this century, we are struggling, collectively, with divisions of race and income and class that are not new but are freshly anguishing. Here is what is new: a surfacing of grief. It's not a universal reckoning, but it's a widespread awareness that the healing stories we've told ourselves collectively are far less than complete. There's a bewilderment in the American air--both frustrating and refreshing for its lack of answers (Tippett, 108)." Reading this sentiment is as life-giving to me as opening a home's windows on the first warm spring day. I love that Tippett is aware, whether or not we are, that society is taking up the task of inventing forms of common life--this is work that is done whether or not we are aware of it. It is further refreshing to me that she points out that something so familiar as grief is one way we are negotiating our realities at this time, and it is simply the case that older stories and healing strategies have hit their wall. We need to dig deeper into the psyche, traditions, rituals, practices, and beliefs of society to propose newer and more nuanced answers. The world is replete with pain; please do not dismiss the pain of others; to do so is the depth of violence.

How do we attend to one another's grief? How do we imagine responses that will do more psychological and spiritual heavy lifting than words crocheted on a wall? Tippett, like many spiritual masters, suggests compassion. To be compassionate is to enter into another's pain and walk with a neighbor's burden; it is to tether oneself to a person, not simply their points of view or whatever other means we may discriminate against them. And if we enter into another's story so openly, we will find ourselves in a relationship with another concrete, irreplaceable person, full of worth and value! Tippett writes, "I can disagree with your opinion, it turns out, but I can't disagree with your experience. And once I have a sense of your experience, you and I are in relationship, acknowledging the complexity in each other's position, listening less guardedly. The difference in our opinions will probably remain intact, but it no longer defines what is possible between us (Tippett, 22)." 

The church now needs to become a student of a vast many stories of grief. People who are called to speak and lead by such a community are called to give voice to the fractured community that is made up of fractured selves; the only way to give voice is to enter into relationships with others, wade into other narratives, and suffer with one another. This must happen, of course, on a local level, and as we are a global society--it requires coming into tune with other voices and stories. The aim, after all, is healthy relationships that promote "hole-hearted" walking, as we are all but pilgrims along the path. 

I wonder if many of today's religious leaders dare to have compassion (enter into relationships with, listen to, and try to understand) fearful white nationalists, Black Lives Matter advocates, Zionists and anti-Zionists, liberals and conservatives, and so on. Again, understanding another's pain does not mean endorsing their interpretation of where the pain comes from or agreeing on every element. Beyond the inherent good of relationship, it offers a more fertile ground for healing stories. It is soul-craft for called leaders of spiritual communities to become expert listeners and profound empathizers. To preach, it is not good enough to exegete sacred texts; one must also exegete human experience and the deep, sometimes hard-to-see, cracks within the social order. Let me conclude with another line of Tippett's that is playing on repeat in my mind: "But compassion goes about finding the work that can be done. Love can't help but stay present (Tippett, 123)."