Questions that we can only answer under the firelight

“If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” (Rom. 12:18)

“For others, in spite of myself, from myself.” (Emmanuel Levinas) 

I recently received one of those beautiful letters from a friend that lifts your spirits and reminds you not only of the vital importance of friendship, but also that the world contains far more tender-hearted people than we might imagine. The letter, an email in truth, was sent to encourage me during this season of my journey. These wonderful words rich in compassion were to be understood as a sign of love and affection from a gentle and discerning soul. I reflected on this letter for some time and I have turned to it often, and to others of a similar humanity. What strikes me above all with such compassionate expressions of solidarity is something all of our true friends have in common, and this is not only the depth and elevation of their souls, but also their practice of giving others the “benefit of the doubt.” What is the benefit of the doubt? And what does it mean in the context of friendship but also in our broader communion with other people, or in other words, the Levinasian “Other”.

These oftentimes, life-giving words “the benefit of the doubt,” are, unless I am mistaken, a direct evolution from the legal principle “of reasonable doubt.” As flawed human beings ourselves we are severely limited to the truth, and could possess only a skewed perspective on reality. To give the benefit of the doubt will not rarely mean to dramatically change a life, to affect generations, and to even save a soul. It is to accept in ‘good faith’ that the other’s intentions were not malevolent or intended to cause harm, that whatever actions we might have misread as wrong were unintended or yes, even a mistake from a place of a momentary weakness or lapse of judgement. It is, of course, a lot easier for older souls to practise this precious charity on account of their familiarity of the human condition with all of its fragilities and contradictions. And the fact, that they too, have been the recipients of this grace, and are now paying it forward. One of the more significant reasons why this grace is withheld is its closeness to the ideal of forgiveness. Ordinarily, it can be difficult to distinguish between the two, though forgiveness is typically much harder, since it involves a reciprocal movement of humility and self-knowledge.

The benefit of the doubt might also challenge our own ethics, forcing us to confront uncomfortable truths about ourselves. This could in some instances prove frightening. We may come to believe that we are capable of what ‘bad’ we might suppose in others, and so we see in the other only that which we could perceive within ourselves. If we do not trust, we may begin to doubt our own capacity to be trustworthy. These are difficult questions that we can only answer under the firelight. What then are the enduring profits of presuming innocence and granting a second chance? In short, it can save a fellow human being from a lifetime of anxiety and anguish, and in some instances, as I have already written, literally save a life. An action of grace once seeded can bring delight to those who come after us and establish new friendships and communities of love; an action made in ‘bad faith’ can create enmities that once established will normally also replicate into the future. I must confess, despite my age and experience, I still cannot fully understand how someone can willingly punish another for a perceived wrong, knowing full well that in the end no good can ever come of it.

“As the Searcher of hearts, the Lord knows that men are liable to very frequent trespass, and that, having fallen, they often rise up again; therefore He has given us the commandment to frequently forgive trespasses, and He Himself is the first to fulfill His holy word. As soon as you say from your whole heart, ‘I repent,’ you will be immediately forgiven.” (St. John of Kronstadt)

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My own heart is a long way from perfect. I will stray and have strayed from my creed, the one I still dare to preach. I am still learning “the good” (the agathon), praying that as the days pass, I remove as many barriers as I can in the pursuit of this virtue. People are inherently compassionate and charitable, this too I have found, when you thirst and ask for a cup of water, by far the majority will offer you that cup. And if we might remember this truth, giving the benefit of the doubt, not forgetting how delightful it could be both to the one and to the other, the offering of this noble gift becomes much harder to withhold. If you could allow me one further point, especially for my younger readers, this does not mean to be naive to the darker aspects of the human condition. In time, you will come to recognise these landscapes of brokenness, and through them you will enter those deeper places where the harvest is more bountiful still, for you will be asked to practise even harder things. This is the road of Gethsemane, the journey into the profound mystery and movement of love and forgiveness. One of the greatest things we can do in this life, is to give hope to the “Other” and to release them from their anguish that they might not only flourish, but that they themselves will soon enough pay it forward. Invariably, it will also bring out the best in ourselves, we will come nearer to our true name. Yes, I am more and more returning to old places and familiar spaces, but it is in truth all I know that could be of any use.

People can be good to each other

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In recent months I have been travelling to Sydney from the South Coast more often than usual to spend as much time as I can with my mother. The grand old lady is progressively becoming lost inside that terrible thick fog of dementia. I cannot describe this disease any other way. It is a heartbreaking experience known to many homes. A few days ago I shared a story inspired by an unexpected encounter during one of these trips. I have been to visit Mother twice since that reflection to do with the seminary. Now back home I would like to share another meaningful moment with you which has left an indelible impression on me. It has to do with one of my favourite words and the charism found in those beautiful souls we encounter along the way—that is, compassion (to “suffer with”). I do know, I refer to this most important of charities too often. Yet, for some good reason, I am compelled to speak on it. We may not all be capable of sacrificial love, which Jesus might ask of us (1 Jn 3:16), but compassion is always within our reach.

Compassion asks us to go where it hurts, to enter into the places of pain, to share in brokenness, fear, confusion, and anguish. Compassion challenges us to cry out with those in misery, to mourn with those who are lonely, to weep with those in tears. Compassion requires us to be weak with the weak, vulnerable with the vulnerable, and powerless with the powerless. Compassion means full immersion in the condition of being human. (Henri J. M. Nouwen, You are the Beloved: Daily Meditations for Spiritual Living)

When we look at the world and observe many of the unspeakable horrors constantly rerun before us in various media platforms, it is not difficult to agree with Charles Bukowski that “people are not good to each other” (The Crunch). And, yes, to be truthful, he is not entirely wrong. Bukowski is one of my favourite poets, and though he is much underrated by the academe for a number of reasons, he has left behind confronting insights on the human condition. On this point, however, to do with people, I cannot agree with him without some strong qualification. There are many more good people in the world, who are “good to each other” than the other way round. If good people, those anonymous heroes, everyday saints I would call them, who go about their daily jobs to make sure we are not left without the essentials and that we are kept safe—where to begin and where to end—doctors; aid workers; nurses; hospice staff; plumbers; sanitary engineers; truck drivers; first responders; farmers; industrial workers; teachers; volunteers; and even our barbers who we trust to not cut our throats, were to suddenly stop delivering their grace, things would very quickly collapse around us. We do not often hear about these persons for we take such souls for granted until we need them. So it is the warmongers and the violence, for instance, which fuels our news broadcasts to fill us with our ‘daily dread’. And to be sure, they inflict untold and horrendous damage, but such saturation of evil makes it even easier to accept this darkness as normative and to sweep aside the majority, that is, the just and decent, who are, indeed, good to each other.

What brought this particular reflection into my heart these past few days? It was the deeply moving and selfless compassion of one young man quietly going about his everyday business. For the moment, lest I embarrass him, let us call him Zayan. I will do my best to explain below—and why I started on another private study on the Parable of the Good Samaritan (Lk. 10:29-37). There is a little corner shop not far up the road from where mother lives. I find it important to support these small family businesses and not only for the reason I grew up in such a shop. The young man behind the counter who was still observing Ramadan, was very polite and helped me locate the necessary things for my mother’s dietary requirements. I  complimented him on his courtesy and efficiency and asked him if was studying or working in the business fulltime. This is when my admiration for this young man moved to an enormous respect. He was indeed studying in a Sydney tertiary institution. He told me he was in his second year of a sports physiotherapy degree and was doing well. I suggested to him his career choice given the ubiquity of sport in our lives looked very positive and that he could even open up his own practice one day. Acknowledging these opportunities, he proceeded to share with me that this was not why he had enrolled in this degree.

Zayan went on to tell me the sole purpose of enrolling in this course of studies was to offer his services to those in need—and more especially to help his beloved older brother who suffers from cerebral palsy. These are the meaningful moments in life. The hours when you come face to face with the greatness of the human spirit and our capacity for God. I walked back to my car and never ashamed to admit, I wept. I shed tears for things which I could feel in my heart but could not put rightly into words. For those who are students of the Johannine corpus or have read Blaise Pascal you will get a more proximate sense of what I am grappling with here. Indeed in both instances the appeal would be to a coherent love from the one to the other—both in its original act in the first place and then afterwards in its communication.

When people are good to each other something wonderful will always happen. The goodness received is invariably paid forward. An Athonite monk I knew called this paying forward a “communicable disease”.  It was hard to forget this striking analogy. Our old friend Charles Bukowski was not entirely wrong when he spoke on the human condition but at times he could overshoot the mark.

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The most unmistakable expression of Love is compassion. If I do not suffer with the other or at the very least if I do not try to alleviate the pain of the other the best I can, I have done nothing. My art, too, it will mean nothing.

A friendship which demands ‘my enemies are your enemies too’ is one that needs to be quickly broken. It will destroy the one and rob the other. Do not permit for another to exercise any form of dominion over the arc of your embrace.

The world resists us all, both the righteous and the unrighteous. We are all subject to gravity and to the unbearable weight of grief and loss. There is none amongst us who desires to be hated more than the need to be loved. And in the middle of all this we shift between the states of lukewarm.

We make use of noise to numb us to our wounds. We are all wounded and seek out different ways to forget. This is one of the principal reasons why social media has taken hold of the world and choking it of its life-force. It has become increasingly painful to think and to swim upstream.

First the eye becomes corrupted then the heart. That is, the flesh first wages war against us and then should we lose this battle, it is the turn of the heart which is the seat of the soul. This is where the hardest of all battles are to be fought, that is, in the heart. Here it is where most is to be gained and most is to be lost.

Why is it we so quickly tire of carnality and become too soon bored with all manner of sensual pleasure? Is it not the case that we are for the most part looking for someone to speak to? To say: this is who I am, see me, in all of my nakedness and trembling.

The other of the great deceptions is that technology will solve most of our problems. But we have found that for every advance new problems are created. And even more alarmingly we are creating autonomous systems which will neither thirst nor hunger. On top of all of this, they will not forget.

And yet life really is beautiful, to be celebrated and to be lived out to its end. Satisfying your thirst with an icy glass of water; moments spent loving another human being; saying I love you for the very first time. For such simple pleasures as these and many more, life can really be beautiful.

Do not die without trying your best to become the man and woman you were meant to become. Aim for the highest in you and make that good reach towards the fullness of your capacity. For one day beginning with those moments just before your death, the man or woman you were intended to become will confront you for the last time. They will give you their hand and you will be left with no other option but to take it.

Few things are sweeter than the practice of forgiveness from a heart which overflows with the rivers of mercy. Few things are bitterer to the spirit than a forgiveness which is given but not forgotten. We find forgiveness difficult because we often confuse it as a pardon for the act itself.

At any given moment when you look into the eyes of your neighbor irrespective of their office in life, there you see the Christ before you. You will discern Him more clearly in the eyes of those who mourn (Matt. 5:4). To think too highly of ourselves is the surest way to becoming lost.

Rocks and pebbles exist in a community of cooperation. They do not discriminate in the presence of the other, nor do they heckle or shove for position. They wait in quiet offering shade and protection to the life around them. Some are under the soil, others covered in moss, and many are under the water shifting only under the draw of nature. They wait patiently to be discovered one afternoon as you recite the Beatitudes.

A thousand winters, written like this, could be no more than a week. All of a sudden, perspective is God.