Living with Compassion

My mother chose for my Aunty Hilda a memorial card which shows Jesus praying in the garden of Gethsemane. Whenever I imagine myself in this scene, I am reminded of the hymn Dear Lord and Father of Mankind whose words are: “when Jesus knelt to share with thee the silence of eternity”. And, how this moment is “interpreted by love” through acts of Christian self-giving.

Compassion has been defined as going to the place where pain is most acute and building a home there. Jesus is the supreme example of this. Nicholas King, in his translation of the prologue from John’s Gospel, describes how “the Word became flesh and pitched his tent amongst us”.

Saint John Henry Newman had a remarkable ability to dwell with those who had lost loved ones. He wrote many letters to console individuals and families -especially if he could not meet with them directly. Given our present circumstances, he would be thinking about sending cards, making telephone calls and using Facebook, WhatsApp, and Skype, to communicate his solidarity with the bereaved. He embraced scientific developments. Such methods, as judged appropriate, can begin the sensitive and patient building up those bowed down under the weight of pain. Remembering, in the process, Newman’s advice to let people have their privacy, as everyone greaves in his or her own way. They need space to come to terms with the strong waves of emotion they will go through -and not feel crowded by our natural concern. Newman recognizes the delicacy of each person’s particular situation and that we must be aware of it -by how we decide, after prayer, to react for the best.

Writing to John Walter III, after his son was tragically drowned, the Saint says:

“I hardly like to intrude upon your deep sorrow. I know well that the sincerest sympathy often causes pain, however kindly meant.”

(Letters and Diaries XXXll, p.315-6)

Newman illustrates that in wanting to express sorrow we may, in fact, be focusing on our own needs to respond. After reflecting upon the news that John Bowden’s sister was dying he remarks:

“I cannot help writing…as a relief to myself” as well as, he adds, hoping to give comfort.

(Letters and Diaries IV, p.334)

Early on in my priesthood l learned from a wise parish priest the prudence of stepping back, a little, before making contact with a family in grief.

St John Henry Newman, on Easter Sunday, makes a comparison between the loss of a child, around Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, and Our Lady’s experience at the foot of the Cross. Writing to Mrs Higgins he observes:

“desolation, the word we use in Holy Week for the special anguish of the Blessed Mary, is the only word which touches the case of one who lives under the weight of your special affection.“

(Letters and Diaries, XXIV, p.150)

Newman relates Jesus‘ suffering, expressed by the marks on his hands, feet and side, to the “wounds of the spirit which never close“. He knew this reality for himself because, although such scars, with God’s grace, became easier to bear, he constantly mourned the loss of his youngest sister, Mary, all his life. In a moving sermon entitled Tears at the Grave of Lazarus, Newman explains the hope that Jesus‘s resurrection brings:

Let us take to ourselves these comfortable thoughts, both in the contemplation of our own death, or upon the death of our friends. Wherever faith in Christ is, there is Christ Himself. He said to Martha, “Believest thou this?“ Wherever there is a heart to answer “Lord I believe,” there Christ is present. There our Lord vouchsafes to stand, though unseen- whether over the bed of death or over the grave; whether we ourselves are sinking or those who are dear to us. Blessed be His name! nothing can rob us of this consolation: we will be as certain, through His grace, that He is standing over us in love, as though we saw Him. We will not, after our experience of Lazarus‘s history, doubt an instance that he is thoughtful about us.

(Parochial and Plain Sermons III,10)

Newman refers to the ‘sacramental principle‘ whereby memories, pictures and the possessions of loved ones, together with masses for them, draw us closer to Christ. This is because he has risen from the dead.  Newman explains that Jesus, through the world around us, connects those who have gone to their eternal rest with us. Shortly after Mary died he says:

Here everything reminds me of her. She was with us at Oxford, and I took a delight in showing her the place and every building, every tree, seems to speak of her. I cannot realize that I shall never see her again.

(Autobiographical Writings p.213)

May Saint John Henry Newman, teach us that the stillness of carefully contemplated compassion, combined with the generosity to act, are signs of Christ‘s risen presence -given for the benefit of the bereaved.

Fr Peter