Do Unto Others (With Compassion). Isaiah 11:6-9. 10/27/24.
Do Unto Others (With Compassion)
Isaiah 11:6-9
Rev. Dr. Rhonda Blevins
October 27, 2024
The wolf shall live with the lamb;
the leopard shall lie down with the kid;
the calf and the lion will feed together,
and a little child shall lead them.
The cow and the bear shall graze;
their young shall lie down together;
and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.
The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp,
and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den.
They will not hurt or destroy
on all my holy mountain,
for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord
as the waters cover the sea.
______
The Fable of the Harsh Master:[1]
Once there was a man who owned a donkey. The man made his living transporting goods from town to town, goods carried on the donkey's back. He was a difficult master, never happy with the donkey's progress, despite how hard she worked. He would frequently overload, insult, and beat her when he was angry. He complained constantly about the donkey's failings.
Despite the harsh treatment, the donkey was a magnificent creature. Her ears were long and pointed. Her neck was straight, as was her back, the perfect architecture for carrying food, supplies and anything else you would ever need. She was surefooted, even in the mud. The donkey's eyes, mane and tale were a luxuriant brown. She was loyal, hardworking and tenacious, especially when the going got tough. She never complained. She was an excellent donkey.
One day at the entrance to a town, the donkey stumbled over a rock on the road. The man took his stick and began to beat the donkey without mercy. Angry, he cursed her for the mistake and continued to beat her until she regained her balance. By now a crowd had gathered. One of the men in the crowd called to the donkey's owner: "What's wrong with you? Why are you beating that poor animal? All she did was stumble on a rock?"
The owner, incensed, called back: "Mind your own business!" "This stupid animal made me look bad," he snarled. "Who will buy my goods after such an embarrassing entrance into town?" The man and the donkey disappeared into the marketplace.
A year later the man and the donkey returned to the town. The man was even angrier than last year! His curses could be heard by the townspeople long before he and the donkey could be seen. A large crowd was gathering at the village gate, straining to see what could be causing such a commotion. Finally, the man and the donkey came into view. The poor donkey had changed dramatically! The luster was gone from her mane and coat; her eyes were dull and bloodshot. Her back was bowed and her gait listless. The man was beating her with a stick, denouncing her shortcomings. Well, some things hadn't changed! Again, someone in the crowd called to the man. "Why do you beat that poor animal?"
"Can't you see," said the man? "This donkey is useless. Look at it: it's ugly and slow. Who will buy goods from a man with a donkey as ugly and useless as this one?" Like before the man and the donkey disappeared into the marketplace.
In the third year, the harsh master and the donkey appeared at the gate to the town. Things had gone from bad to worse. The donkey's sweet face had been turned into an angry scowl. She was mangy, emaciated and covered in scars. Where the donkey had been calm and surefooted before, she was now nervous and tentative on her feet. She attempted to bite and kick her master whenever he came into range. The man beat her with a longer stick, afraid to come close to the animal. "See?" he called to anyone who would listen. "This is a dangerous animal. I must protect myself and all of you from her outbursts!" The man and the angry donkey went into the town to sell their wares.
In the fourth year, the man appeared at the market. He was grey, disheveled and shrunken. He limped along on feet bloodied from his walk. Behind him he pulled a heavy cart. As in past a crowd gathered to view the poor fellow. Someone seemed to recognize him from previous visits. "Hey, aren't you the man with the donkey? Where is your animal? How come you aren't travelling with her?
The man dropped the heavy cart down raising a cloud of dust from the road. "That useless donkey," he began, "she up and died! Stupid animal! She ruined me! Now, I have to pull this heavy cart from town to town. It's killing me!"
"Maybe you should have thought of that before you beat your donkey," said a woman with disdain. Those gathered gave each other knowing looks.
"Maybe you should mind your own business," said the man with a cry. "You don't know what I have been through!" He picked up the heavy cart and pulled it into the marketplace with all his remaining strength.
Remember this fable. We will return to it in a moment.
In our “Do Unto Others” series today, I want to focus on the second part of the Golden Rule. Finish the saying after me? “Do unto others . . . as you would have others do unto you.”
Here’s the thing about the “Golden Rule” . . . our capacity to “do unto others” . . . our ability to extend compassion to other people . . . is inextricably linked to our ability to extend compassion to ourselves. Here’s another way to say this: unless we are accomplished at self-compassion, we will struggle to be the kind of compassionate people God wants us to be. “Doing unto others” with compassion is the natural overflow of a life lived with gentle and consistent self-compassion. “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you” begins with knowing your value, knowing your worth, and recognizing that, as God’s beloved, you are worthy of being treated with kindness and compassion.
But for many of us, the primary individual who treats us harshly is the person we see in the mirror every day. Sometimes you hear this phenomenon called the “inner critic” or “self judgement.” For some of us, that inner critic is one nasty individual!
Here are some of the things you might hear your inner critic say:
You’re not smart enough.
You’re not thin enough.
You’re not strong enough.
You’ll never measure up.
Who do you think you are?
And the list could go on. With friends like that who needs an enema? Maybe we need to flush that kind of harshness out of our lives!
And when something traumatic happens, like what our community has been through over the past month, the negative self-talk might really kick in, creating even more distress on top of the trauma.
So, let me ask you to consider: given the events of the past month, how would you grade your self-talk? Have you:
A. Been gentle with yourself? Have you treated yourself with kindness and forgiveness? Have you given yourself permission to feel the things you feel? Or . . .
B. Have you been self-critical? Have you berated yourself for decisions you made or your impotence to wave a wand and quickly “fix” things for yourself and/or your friends and loved ones?
It’s perfectly natural for the inner critic to kick into overdrive after trauma. It’s normal, but I suggest it’s not terribly helpful and might even be harmful.
With that, I want to introduce a way to tame our inner critic using a simple 4-step process articulated by wisdom teacher Tara Brach:
The acronym RAIN is an easy-to-remember tool for practicing mindfulness and compassion using the following four steps:
· Recognize what is going on;
· Allow the experience to be there, just as it is;
· Investigate with interest and care;
· Nurture with self-compassion.
R—Recognize What’s Going On. Recognizing means consciously acknowledging, in any given moment, the thoughts, feelings, and behaviors that are affecting us. Like awakening from a dream, the first step out of the trance of unworthiness is simply to recognize that we are stuck and subject to painfully constricting beliefs, emotions, and physical sensations. Common signs of the trance include a critical inner voice, feelings of shame or fear, the squeeze of anxiety or the weight of depression in the body. Recognizing can be a simple mental whisper, noting what has come up.
A—Allow the Experience to be There, Just as It Is. Allowing means letting the thoughts, emotions, feelings, or sensations we have recognized simply be there, without trying to fix or avoid anything. When we’re caught in self-judgment, letting it be there doesn’t mean we agree with our conviction that we’re unworthy. Rather, we honestly acknowledge the arising of our judgment, as well as the painful feelings underneath. Many students I work with support their resolve to pause and let be by silently offering an encouraging word or phrase to themselves. For instance, you might feel the grip of fear and mentally whisper, Yes, or It’s ok, in order to acknowledge and accept the reality of your experience in this moment.
I—Investigate with Interest and Care. Once we have recognized and allowed what is arising, we can deepen our attention through investigation. To investigate, call on your natural curiosity—the desire to know truth— and direct a more focused attention to your present experience. You might ask yourself: What most wants attention? How am I experiencing this in my body? What am I believing? What does this vulnerable place want from me? What does it most need? Whatever the inquiry, your investigation will be most transformational if you step away from conceptualizing and bring your primary attention to the felt-sense in the body. When investigating, it is essential to approach your experience in a non-judgmental and kind way. This attitude of care helps create a sufficient sense of safety, making it possible to honestly connect with our hurts, fears and shame.
N—Nurture with Self-Compassion. Self-compassion begins to naturally arise in the moments that we recognize we are suffering. It comes into fullness as we intentionally nurture our inner life with selfcare. To do this, try to sense what the wounded, frightened or hurting place inside you most needs, and then offer some gesture of active care that might address this need. Does it need a message of reassurance? Of forgiveness? Of companionship? Of love? Experiment and see which intentional gesture of kindness most helps to comfort, soften or open your heart. It might be the mental whisper, I’m here with you. I’m sorry, and I love you. I love you, and I’m listening. It’s not your fault. Trust in your goodness.
After the RAIN: When you’ve completed the active steps of RAIN, it’s important to just notice your own presence and rest in that wakeful, tender space of awareness. The fruit of RAIN is realizing that you are no longer imprisoned in the trance of unworthiness, or in any limiting sense of self.[2]
This week I’ve been engaged with an individual whose home flooded during Helene. Not only that, but her car exploded in the garage, burning down her entire house—a home she inherited from her beloved parents. “They gave it to me, and I blew it up,” she said to me through her tears.
Did you hear how harshly her inner critic is treating her? I replied to her something like, “You parents gave the home to you, and a terrible storm came through causing incomprehensible damage.”
Back to the “Fable of the Harsh Master.” This story of the man and the donkey is an allegory about how much suffering we create for ourselves with an inner critic that goes unchecked. At first glance, the harsh master is the villain, and the donkey is the victim. But upon further reflection, we begin to see that the two characters are:
two aspects of the self, two sides of a single tragic dynamic. This dynamic plays out every day in the inner life of many people. We talk to ourselves all the time. Our private, internal monologue is either a constructive narrative or a means of self-harm. The Harsh Master in the story represents the self-critic. The donkey represents the faithful Self, beaten down over time by the harsh critic. The critic seizes on every mistake, perceived flaw, and performance fear. It is always comparing the Self to others, and measuring and comparing it in a self-diminishing way. It second-guesses, mistrusts, and self-flagellates. Worse yet, we mistrust the honest intentions and support of others. Even small mistakes— our own or those of others— become fodder for criticism. Eventually, like the donkey, we decline, become aggressive and finally succumb to defeat by our own hand.[3]
The RAIN method I introduced to you is a way to train the harsh master—our inner critic—to act with compassion instead of hatred.
In the book of Isaiah, the prophet gives us a beautiful picture of what it will look like when God’s kingdom is fully realized: the wolf and the lamb will lie down together, living together in God’s perfect peace. That day will only come when God’s people can make it happen within—when the harsh master can learn the way of self-compassion. Unless there is peace within—unless we can practice compassion within our own being—how in the world can we practice genuine compassion with the world?
So friends, take it easy on yourself this week. And the week after that, and the week after that. Don’t heap more suffering onto yourself by allowing your inner-critic to run wild. RAIN down some outlandish grace on that wounded soul you see in the mirror, ok?
And if you can RAIN down some grace on yourself, then AND ONLY THEN will you be able to fully, freely, authentically “Do Unto Others” with compassion.
[1] http://extraordinaryconversations.com/thought-leadership/2016/3/16/the-f
[2] Adapted from https://www.tarabrach.com/wp-content/uploads/pdf/RAIN-of-Self-Compassion2.pdf
[3] http://extraordinaryconversations.com/thought-leadership/2016/3/16/the-f