Conditional Compassion

Ever have those conversations where, while in the midst of expressing an opinion, you end up realizing that you believe two contradictory points? No? Well you should. I call it an "Oh crap" moment.

I was convicted today about the rules and obligations I seem to doll out with my compassion, as if I was so arrogant to think that by giving grace I am entitled to power over the situation. The best example I've found this year has been in the case of my brother and his shitstorm (that is a technical, theological term). I came to believe that any help I gave him, whether it be monetary or otherwise, gave me the right to say what he should be doing with his life; that he was indebted to me. If he didn't do what I thought he should do, I would withhold my offering. And while I believe that there are times when people need to hit rock bottom before they will ever heal, and I believe that boundaries are difficult to define and retain, I think I was horribly wrong in thinking that my 'generosity' granted me say. If I gave I gave for the wrong reasons.

I realized this as I talked about one of the biggest problems of Christianity today, the idea of conditional compassion. That wicked and destructive notion that compassion and grace were things to be bought or bartered; things to grant power and subjugate the debtors. Conditional on lifestyle, sin, decisions, beliefs, cultures. Be more like me and then I'll help you.

If we give, we should give freely; that is, without expectation and without the thought of payback. Does that mean even though I know he's going to blow whatever I send his way on self-destructive habits, I should send it anyway? That's hard for me to say yes, because I don't know. Jesus said, “And if someone wants to sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. If someone forces you to one mile, go with him two miles. Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn from the one who wants to borrow from you.” (Matthew 5:40-42). I feel like that means give even though they abuse you, dismiss you, defame you (which, in my head, is contradictory to everything I'd like to do) and keep giving of time and love and compassion and grace and mercy and kindness, without the expectation that such giving will ever be acknowledged, recognized, or repaid.

I don't like learning that.