“Compassion and Survival” – Sermon on July 14, 2013
July 14, 2013
Reading: Why I Like My Family, by Bonnie Burris Parcell
I like my family because the world is too big to embrace. Without it, I would be a faceless reflection in a gigantic mirror of twisting, floating images. My voice would pulsate into empty space with no one to hear my cry.
My family brings the world into focus by giving me an identity in a world within the world, where everything is scaled down to my size. In loving and being loved by a few, I can reach out into the larger world with confidence to see clearly each human being and to discover that his needs are the same as mine.
Without the family, I would be submerged in self-pity, unable to function, to make friends…always searching for meaning. Success would be empty if there were no eyes to light up with pride. Money would be worthless if it could not be spent to bring happiness to those I love. Leisure activities would be boring pursuits, if there were no-one to share them.
The closeness of those who care deeply about what I do, what I think, how I feel, and the interchange of interest, experiences, and feelings could not be duplicated in any other social structure.
My family has given me the proper climate in which to grow into a healthy awareness of myself and others, to learn that human relationships are the essence of life…and that love is ultimate.
That is why I like my family. (This essay won honorable mention in the Sunday Eagle-Tribune essay contest. It was written while living in Methuen…late ‘70s)
Scripture: Luke 10:25-37 July 14, 2013
Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.”
But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, and who is my neighbor? Jesus responded: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’
Jesus asked the lawyer, “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” “The one who showed him mercy.” “Go and do likewise.”
Sermon: Compassion and Survival
by Rev. Doreen Oughton
The Thursday evening book group just finished a study of C.S. Lewis’s Screwtape Letters? Have you heard of it? The collection of “letters” are from a devil of an uncle – Screwtape, to his young tempter nephew Wormwood, who is working to capture a man’s soul for the father below. Screwtape advises Wormwood on all kinds of subtle techniques to lead the man away from their enemy, God. At one point Screwtape explains to Wormwood the philosophy of Hell is what one being gains, another being loses. He says, “to be” means “to be in competition.” Some might call in survival of the fittest, some might call it a zero-sum game. In this philosophy, it is important to look out for one’s own interest, and to protect yourself from others acting in their own interest, because if they gain, you must lose. There is no room in this philosophy for compassion.
Or is there? Even Darwinism – the laws of evolution – acknowledge that compassion made the genetic cut for a self-surviving reason. If that trait of humans has survived through evolution up to this point, it must be serving a purpose. Evolutionary psychology holds that this purpose is the continuation of genetic material. Our genes want to continue on, and not die out in an individual, so we are programmed to respond compassionately especially to our children – to care for them even at cost to ourselves.
In addition to this phenomena, which is called “kin selection,” humans developed what is called reciprocal altruism. So even people who are not in your family may be treated compassionately because you want them to treat you compassionately. We recognize this in the golden rule of do unto others what you would have them do unto you. Or we might say that one good turn deserves another. There’s a deep sense of rightness about the idea of what goes around comes around, that bad deeds should be punished, that people get what they deserve. So even if another person will not pass on your genetic materially, you want to make sure they let you and even help you live long enough to pass on yours. And so you have to let and help them live long enough to pass on theirs or all bets are off. You want to do good deeds and so avoid the punishment of bad deeds.
So if we move off just individual survival and into genetic survival, it is easy to see how Screwtape’s philosophy of hell is truly hellish. It leads to ultimate destruction. If we only see other beings as competition, as rivals we must destroy or be destroyed, everyone will be destroyed. So of course compassion is a necessary trait to human survival. And yet none of us exercises the golden rule universally. We don’t treat everyone well. We often say a mean thing, or do something to another that we would never want done to us. In some situations there is a zero-sum game at play – if someone else wins, we do lose. There are only so many job openings, only so many college admission slots. Whether it is true or not, we worry that there is only so much food, only so much clean air and water, only so much oil. We need to take and hold on lest someone take from us. Naturally it is hard for compassion to flow in such situations – situations in which we feel vulnerable, scared and unsafe.
In our fears, we carve out the exceptions to the golden rule. There are some, we tell ourselves, who bring it on themselves. Even though we would never want to be locked up in prison, we lock people in prison because they have done something to deserve it. Even though we would never want our country bombed, we will bomb other countries because they have done something to deserve it. We identify rivals, enemies perhaps, those who we do not need to treat well.
And so now let’s tie all this evolutionary biology theory with the story of the good Samaritan. The scene is set by Luke. Jesus has just offered a prayer in which Jesus claims divine authority, and this decides to test Jesus. What must I do to inherit eternal life? Jesus throws the question back on him – what does the law say? The lawyer shows that he knows his stuff – quoting Deuteronomy and Leviticus. Jesus affirms his answer and is ready to move on. The man talks about love, and Jesus says, yes, that’s right, do that. Love. But the man is not ready to let go. He pushes it – who should I love, besides God of course. Who is my neighbor that I should love as I love myself?
I don’t know what he expected to hear. The principles of human survival were active at that time. Love and take care of your family. Love and take care of your tribe. The scripture says he wanted to justify himself. I wonder, is there some unkindness he’d shown to someone he ought to have seen as neighbor? Was there someone, maybe even in his family or tribe that he didn’t think deserved his love and care? Is there someone, even in his family or tribe that he sees as a rival? Perhaps he was hoping Jesus would say that his neighbor is the one who treats him with respect, the one who picks up his mail when he’s away, who lends him lawn tools – not the grump who has been yelling at him since he was a little boy.
If so, he did not get what he hoped for. Jesus did not say that your neighbor is whoever treats you well, he said that the neighbor is whoever you treat well. He says it in a story that would have confounded not only this lawyer, but all the people listening. For none of them would have said that a Samaritan was a neighbor to be loved. A Samaritan was a rival who was unclean, someone to be avoided and mistrusted. But Jesus pushes all his listeners to broaden their idea of neighbor, to extend compassion beyond their families and neighbors, to apply the golden rule even to those we think don’t deserve it.
So is Jesus saying we have to respond to everyone in need, that we can’t prioritize our care and concern? I don’t think so. I absolutely loved the essay by Bonnie Parcell, about how hard she would find it to love at all if the only option she had was to love on the grand and Godly scale. It is in loving her family that she gets to practice loving as God loves. It makes sense not only biologically to provide special care to those closest to you, it makes sense spiritually given that we are limited human beings. I believe we were designed to fall in love, to commit to caring for a smaller group of beings. I believe it is a good thing.
But I also think this good thing can get twisted. Another thing Uncle Screwtape points out is that there is nothing that humans do naturally that is of any use to the demons unless it is twisted. There is nothing wrong with feeling good about yourself, but twisted it becomes the sin of pride. There is nothing wrong with enjoying food or sex or competition, but twisted they become destructive. There is nothing wrong with loving your family or your tribe, but if that is ALL you are able to love, it has become twisted. We start with our family, but our compassion and care are meant to flow beyond that, even to those we fear, even to those we identify as rivals. Mrs. Parcell talks about how loving her family primes her “to healthy awareness of self and others, to learn that human relationships are the essence of life…and that love is ultimate.” Go and do likewise. Amen.
