Today I want to write about compassion.  Warning: this might ramble a tiny bit.  Yesterday I posted something about this woman, Kim Davis, who decided that she felt so strongly about marriage being between only a man and a woman that she is now in jail for contempt of court.  If you aren't familiar with that case, you can feel free to Google it, I won't go into it here because it isn't really the point.  The point is, I said that I felt bad for her, and I encouraged compassion.  And I got a mix of responses; some for, some against, some seemingly a bit peeved that I would waste my breath on this lady who was so obviously wrong. 

I'm not going to judge anyone, or any of these responses.  I absolutely can understand the anger and outrage against this woman.  I am well aware that gay people have suffered mightily.  I am also aware that their allies in the heterosexual community are often aghast at how poorly gays have been historically treated in this country.  There's a lot of anger and hatred and sadness; plenty to spare, in fact. 

Whenever there is sadness and anger and hate, there are three fundamentally different approaches to dealing with it.   One is to deny it; to push it down, pretend it doesn't exist.  The second is to indulge it; to create walls, to punish, to demean or insult or belittle.  The third path, what the Buddhists call the middle path, is to acknowledge these very real feelings, but at the same time to acknowledge the basic humanity of everyone involved. I would call this the path of compassion.  Let's be clear about what compassion is and is not.  Compassion means that it makes me sad that another human being has to spend a night in prison, away from her loved ones.  Compassion does not mean that I do not think she should be there.  I understand the total picture here and appreciate and accept why this woman needs to be in jail.  But I'm not happy about it.  I take no glee in her suffering.  When one human suffers, we all suffer.  Compassion means that I understand why she feels the way she does, and I appreciate the depth of her passion.  Compassion does not mean that I agree with her, or think she should get her way.  She absolutely should not.  Her desire to impinge on the rights and feelings of others cannot be acted upon; but it is still a valid desire, a human desire.  There are no bad feelings; only bad actions and results.

There is a principle at work here, that of the "least force needed".  It's clear that this woman needs to be restrained from harming others.  But we don't need to pile on.  We need to do the least possible to keep her from inflicting that pain.  There is no need to belittle her, or strip her of her humanity.  Those things only weaken the position, morally and ethically.  Yes, she must be kept from acting on her feelings.  But we don't need to hate her.  Which is not to say that I don't understand the desire to hate her.  That is also valid.  It's ok to want to hate her.  It's not OK to give in.  That starts the cycle of hate.  At the end of the day, I do not hope that Kim Davis "loses".  I hope we all win.  I hope she genuinely is touched by the compassion of those she disagrees with, and softens her heart. 

A quick aside about my own father: he used to say that he really just felt uncomfortable with people (men, specifically) being gay.  He felt funny when two men were holding hands.  I understand this.  He wasn't raised with that kind of thing.  I don't think he ever hated them, but he definitely didn't like it or understand it.  But a few years back, my parents ended up becoming friends with a gay male couple.  They've become some of their best friends.  And my Dad says that now, while sometimes it still seems a bit off, it doesn't bother him nearly as much. 

The point here is this: I could have treated my Dad's unease with homosexuality as the enemy.  I could have lectured him about it, gotten angry with him, thought less of him, picked a fight.  That would have accomplished nothing.  Indeed, it likely would have made him dig in his heels.  What softened his attitude was that most human of things: making a friend. 

At some level, we understand this, because this is how we treat children.  We understand this principle of least neccessary force instictively.  When a child acts out, we restrain them from acting on their dark feelings.  But we don't hate them, we don't punish them more than neccessary.  We don't strip them of humanity.  We act with compasssion.   I maintain that this is also how we can treat adults.

What Kim Davis needs is not a lecture.  What she needs is compassion.  She needs some gay friends.  Maybe a gay neighbor. 

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