Outward Focused Lives // Compassion

sermon notes from the Vineyard Church of Milan 05/12/2013

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A couple of weeks ago, Ronni was away with a team from the church working on a Habitat for Humanity project for 7 days in Tuscaloosa. Which meant our 3 kids were mother-less for a while. Which wasn’t the biggest deal for most things… Sure, they ate a lot of hot lunches at school, and probably bathed a lot less than they should have. But where the impact was really felt was in the area of compassion. Perhaps you’ve noticed this dynamic in your household as well, or perhaps it was the case for you as a kid growing up. When our kids get hurt or frustrated, they want Mom, not Dad. When the kids come to me, I tend to suggest to them that if they got hurt, maybe they should toughen up. Or maybe they shouldn’t be doing the thing they were doing that hurt them. Or that of course they got hurt – what were they expecting? And even though Mom was gone, and I knew the kids would need me to step up my Ronni game, no matter how many awwws and let me kiss its I offered, the next words out of their mouths were always, when’s Mom going to get home?

You probably wouldn’t be surprised to hear that there’s a scientific explanation for that – but we’ll save that for later.

In the meantime, in honor of Mothers’ Day, we’re going to talk about Compassion. Specifically, the link between compassion and outward focused lives.

The Bible proposes that the way of Jesus really is the only way to obtain the life we all deeply desire.

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests, but each of you to the interests of others. In your relationships with one another, have the same attitude of mind Christ Jesus had:

Who, being in very nature God,

did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;

rather he made himself nothing

by taking the very nature of a servant…

Paul (formerly Saul) of Tarsus

from Philippians 2:1-11

It turns out, Jesus is simply teaching us to turn away from badly lived human lives that focus inward to well-lived human lives that are focused outward. As we’ve explored over the last few weeks, focusing on helping others is the secret to all kinds of success. Over time, givers win. They actually come out ahead, on top, like cream that rises to the top. With the added benefits of healthier, less anxious, more deeply satisfied experiences of life. And those that givers give to, win. Many times, becoming givers themselves. Outward focused lives are contagious, it seems. Which of course, is what following Jesus is all about. Learning to live the kind of life he lived, a life that can’t be extinguished, not even by death, but instead one that thrives for eternity.

Today we’re going to talk about the compassion part of outward focused lives, the part that begins by looking not “to your own interests, but each of you to the interests of others.”

A group of Princeton Theological Seminary Students unwittingly participated in a study on this topic. Half were tasked with preparing a talk on the story of the Good Samaritan from the Bible. You know, the story about a man who lies beaten and injured on the side of the road and is ignored by various people, until finally a Samaritan stops and aids the injured man. The other half were tasked with preparing a talk on various job openings at the seminary. They were then sent to another building to give their talks. Along the way, they each passed by a moaning, coughing man doubled over in an alley doorway.

Do you think the students who had been thinking about the parable of the Good Samaritan were more likely than the others to show compassion to the man?

I did.

I was wrong.

The subject of the talk they were going to give, even when it was a powerful reflection on helping injured strangers in need of compassion, made no difference in whether or not a student helped.

The only thing that mattered was how much of a hurry the student was in to get to the next building. Those who felt like they were in a hurry and preoccupied with their own concerns were far less likely to help. Only 10% of those students stopped to help. Those who weren’t in a hurry helped 63% of the time.

What does this show us about the relationship between compassion and outward focused lives?

It shows us that Paul, once again, was right. Our only hope of compassion is to find a way to stop looking to our own interests, and look instead to the interests of others. For those students, and for us, compassion begins with getting our eyes off of ourselves and onto others.

It’s assumed, isn’t it, that we will be looking to our own interests. Stop a second for a gut check. Look inside yourself, take a quick poll of the interests vying for your attention. Most of them are your interests, aren’t they?

I’m tired, I want to sleep. I’m hungry, I want to eat. I’ve got an itch I want to scratch, but I’m worried about what the people behind me might think. I’m stressed about money, an extra $1000 sure would make a difference. I’m thirsty, I wish I’d picked up a coffee at McDonalds on my way in. Wow, I’ve really got to go bad. I’m bored, I wish he would finish already. I’m really worried about my Dad, I wish I could know how things are going to turn out. Man, that’s a nice sweater she’s wearing, I’d sure like to have one too. Look at that nice family in front of me; if only I had parents that loved me like that.

Our interests, in other words, are right there all the time, like an annoying buzzing bee that we just can’t shake. We’re thinking about our houses, our jobs, our families, our problems, our stresses, our pleasures, our pains. Most all of the time, in fact, unless we’re in extraordinary circumstances. (Such as the kind of circumstances that get our adrenaline flowing…someone we love in mortal danger, inspiring heroic, selfless action. Or when we’ve intentionally surrendered our interests in exchange for some greater good – as members of a team, or an army, or a company, or a family, or a church.)

What isn’t assumed, however, but instead is commanded, is that we lift up our eyes from our own interests to look to the interests of the others. And not a passive, lazy gaze kind of look, either. Rather, an active, penetrating, intentional, sensitive kind of look.

“look to” = σκοπέω (skopeō) v. : notice carefully, watch out for, keep thinking about, ponder, fix attention toward.

The kind of looking a baseball player would do towards the fly ball coming his way; the kind of looking a radiologist would do at the x-ray of her father’s lungs; the kind of looking a high school senior does at the pile of mail that may contain the acceptance letter from college; a mother looking in the eyes of her newborn baby for the first time; a father watching his son’s first high school football game, a groom looking down the aisle as his bride approaches.

Consider this commencement speech by David Foster Wallace, given to the 2005 graduating class of Kenton College. It’s 9 minutes long, but worth our time, I think.

[This is Water…]

 

THIS IS WATER - By David Foster Wallace from The Glossary on Vimeo.

In fact, all kinds of research back up what Paul and David Foster Wallace are saying. Daniel Goleman, author of Emotional Intelligence, says that our default wiring is to help.

If we attend to the other, we automatically empathize and want to help. In the last decade, social neuroscientists have made some fascinating discoveries about mirror neurons. Mirror neurons are specialized neurons in our brains that mirror the sensations and emotions we see other people experiencing, inside our own brains. If you see someone’s leg break on the basketball court, your brain lights up with pain the same way the player with the broken leg lights up. In human beings, our mirror neurons are especially attuned to emotions – if you see someone in emotional distress, your mirror neurons cause you to feel that distress as well. (It works positively too – that’s part of why when we see someone overwhelmed with joy at their new home on Extreme Home Makeover, or filled with pride on Biggest Loser, we get caught up in their emotional response – we are actually feeling, to some degree, the exact same thing they are).

A bonus aside: we actually have two emotional response centers in our brains. One is the mirror neuron system, and this is where our emotional responses to others always begins. The other is the temporal-prietal junction system (the TPJ). These are the analyze and fix it circuits. Both men and women first respond to seeing someone else in distress with their mirror neuron systems. But while women’s mirror neurons stay active for a long period of time – long enough to pull someone in for a hug, and say aww I’m so sorry for you, and gosh, that must be tough, and stroke their hair and say I can see how much this hurts, you’re so strong to carry this, and on and on – men’s mirror neuron system only fires for a brief period of time. Just long enough to get a handle on what’s happening and process it. Then their TPJ starts firing and they start problem solving. Which is still an emotional response; it just doesn’t feel like it to a woman or a child at all, does it? Which is why my kids wanted mom, and not me. At least, that’s what I tell myself…

But back to our main idea. When we get our eyes off of ourselves, even briefly, and cast our gaze towards others, we will be filled with something the scriptures call compassion. Something Jesus experienced all the time. Something that moved him to actions with God’s wind at his back.

Listen to this brief story in Matthew 14

When Jesus heard what had happened, he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns. When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick.

Matthew 14:13-14

Background: just discovered his cousin John had been beheaded by the king, Herod, for selfish and petty reasons. Jesus, withdrawing to grieve, but unable to get away from the crowds. Jesus, looking in a healthy way to his own interests, but not with his eyes closed. No, his eyes are also looking outward. And he sees the crowd. Really sees them.

Are they an inconvenient interruption? Surely they are getting in the way of his grief. Can’t they tell that he’s trying to get away from them? Withdrawing by boat, privately. To a solitary place. Can’t they take the hint? Surely he has every right to demand that they leave him alone.

Not Jesus. His response is just the opposite. He is looking not only to his interests, but also to theirs. And he sees every one of their needs. Their fears, their concerns, their confusion, their hurts, their desperation. “Harassed and helpless” it says in another account, “like sheep without a shepherd.” He sees those who have brought friends and relatives in hope of healing, frustrated, anxious, worn out with caring for them, on the verge of hopelessness. He sees the sick ones, discouraged, in pain, feverish, afraid of death. And he has compassion on them, healing their sick.

“had compassion” = σπλαγχνίζομαι [ splagchnizomai / splangkh· nid ·zom·ahee /] v. : to be moved in the inward parts, as to one’s bowels

These strangers, these others, move him more than his own needs do, move him more than grief for his cousin’s death does. They’ve gotten inside of him, under his skin, into his guts. Ever had a child, a friend, someone you love work their way inside of you? Their pain is your pain, their joy is your joy. Jesus lets the crowd into that part of himself. The part of him that’s vulnerable to being moved.

And he’s moved in those inward parts to heal them. To act on their behalf. To forgo his own needs, for a time (note that he does get away to a mountainside to pray later that day), in favor of their needs and his Father’s purposes.

There is no secret formula for compassion. You can’t make it happen. You can’t work it up. You can’t get good at it. But you can open your eyes to the interests of others. Begin to look for what others might need, everywhere that you are. Homes, schools, workplaces, marketplaces, play places, highways and byways.

Your wife? Your kids? Your neighbors? Your friends? Your teammates? Your classmates? Your co-workers? Your boss? Your employees? The strangers God brings into contact with you? Stop looking at them as inconvenient interruptions. Start looking at them as people to be loved. And you will begin to see them as people who are loved, deeply, by Jesus. And his compassion will fill you, and your own compassion will start to wake up, and pretty soon you will be in business with him. Doing business with God is one thing, and we all have to start there. But being in business with him is another, and business is good.

Practical Suggestions:

1. Wake Yourself Up. Set an alarm to go off at 3 relatively random times a day. When it goes off, take 60 seconds to look to the interests of others. Literally look, first. See if you see anyone whose situation might cause your mirror neurons to fire and cascade into compassion. If not, then let your mind linger on people in your life and their needs. Perhaps pray for them during that minute.

This discipline, I think, was forced on many mothers by crying infants, and over time it forms a habit of looking to the needs of others we see in many of our moms….

2. Memorize & Meditate. Memorize Matthew 14:13-14 and reflect on it prayerfully once a day for 12 minutes. Insert the name of different loved one in place of “a large crowd”. Research has shown that your capacity for empathy will increase, and your own anxiety will decrease, giving you a greater freedom to actually see others. To skopeo them.