I have been thinking about neighbors a lot lately. My neighbors across the street, for instance, a family of three, now. I’ve known the parents for nearly 10 years. We have taken care of each other’s dog or cat when one or the other of us was out of town. We have keys to each other’s houses. We visit, have dinner together occasionally, ask for help, offer a hand when needed. The seven-year-old drops by after school. Sometimes we talk. Sometimes she brings friends over; sometimes we play. I trust the bond between us will grow even stronger with time. I’ve known her all her life.
As I was writing yesterday (Friday), I spoke with her dad in the morning as he got ready to leave for the day. Later in the afternoon, another neighbor dropped by for a chat—someone I don’t see often—and we spent a few delightful moments talking about the yard, the fruit trees and special care needed by some of our neighbors. The evening before I had gone to the movies with another set of neighbors I’d been wanting to connect with for weeks. It just so happened they were free and I was free at the same time. All of these chance encounters were enjoyable and life-giving. They provided a sense of connection and community that is often lacking in my everyday life.
But as I thought about these neighbors, and other surprising experiences with people throughout the week, the backdrop was always today’s parable. What was Jesus saying, I wondered, in bringing so many neighbors into my life in such a short span of time? Not all experiences had been positive. There was the worker, for instance, who blocked my driveway while concluding 7-hours of heavy machinery work just outside my kitchen window, topped off by a leaf-blowing episode I thought would never end. It was hard to see him as my neighbor. It was a Mt. Everest challenge to even remember that God was as present in him as in me, let alone that I was commissioned by the Gospel to live into that truth RIGHT NOW! Everything in me wanted to scream at him!
We don’t have to go very far to encounter neighbor challenges, especially once we get Jesus’ basic message that everyone is our neighbor! Showing mercy and compassion in uncommon circumstances is sometimes easier than being kind to the arrogant laborer in the yard next door. But we are called to see the face of God in everyone we meet. That’s a tall order at times, especially when we encounter every-day annoyances and our patience is running thin.
But what about extraordinary situations like the Samaritan faced in today’s Gospel? How do we even begin to address the enormous amount of suffering we are exposed to daily—on our streets, in the news, in the mail?
One of the things we deal with today that wasn’t a factor in Jesus’ time is something called “compassion fatigue.” Compassion fatigue is also known as Secondary Traumatic Stress (STS) and it is characterized by a decrease in the ability to feel compassion over time. Those who analyze journalism claim the media has caused widespread STS throughout society by saturating news outlets with images and stories of tragedy and suffering that are out of context. This, they say, has caused widespread cynicism in the general public, and a resistance to helping people in pain.
Compassion fatigue is escalating within the helping professions and is especially found among those who come from traditions like ours that idealize caring for others at the expense of caring for oneself. Eric Gentry, a trauma expert notes that “authentic, ongoing self-care practices are absent from [these people’s] lives.”1 This lack of balance is partly to blame for their decreased ability to experience genuine compassion.
Of course there’s also the very real influence of a cultural value system that prioritizes self-gratification and personal comfort. When politicos fan the flames of discord to enhance their message and self-interest claims victory over and over again, the tension between heart and head intensifies.
On the one hand we have Jesus telling us to reach out lovingly to those who are suffering, to bind their wounds, to provide for their care, and do all we can to foster their healing. On the other hand we are overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of suffering people we see on our tv and computer screens, hear about on the news, and see panhandling on street corners. Our hearts are often heavy with sadness and guilt, but there is also anger and helplessness in the face of so much anguish and desperation. How do we not bury our heads in the sand? How do we keep our hearts open, vulnerable to the pain of others and compassionately responsive?
It’s a question I ask myself constantly, and it brings me back to the query I posed earlier: “what was Jesus saying to me this week in bringing so many neighbors into my life in such a short span of time?” That led to another question: since every person on the planet is my neighbor, how can I be a good a neighbor to 7 billion people in any way comparable to the neighbor I am to the family across the street? The answer I’ve come to is this. I need to start where I am. I start with the laborer whose heavy machinery and arrogant attitude threatened my peace and equilibrium on Friday. I start by seeing the image of God in him, by treating him with kindness even when my patience is thin and my blood boiling.
I start by thanking God in him for helping me recognize the signs of compassion fatigue in myself. I take a step in creating, then following through, on a self-care plan that provides genuine relaxation and time for re-creation and the refreshment of my soul. I allow more time for meditation and prayer, placing myself and my neighbors in God’s hands, and asking for the grace to know what’s mine to do and what is rightly left to others and to God. I invoke the Serenity Prayer.
And finally, I return to Moses’ words to the Israelites in our first reading. The law of God, the Word and Spirit of God, lives in each and every heart. It is not for me to teach you or for you to teach me. Our task is to live in our hearts, and to evoke the heart-knowing within each other by living what is written there to the very best of our ability. My neighbor is the image of God for me. I must daily look at that image and ready my heart so it is able to respond.
Rev. Toni Tortorilla, Sophia Christi Catholic Community
July 14, 2013, 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time
1http://www.compassionfatigue.org/pages/compassionfatigue.html
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