Thoughts on Being a Human

The other night I was walking down the streets of downtown Seattle with a few friends. As we were strolling back to our car, I looked to my right down a steep bank that had another level of parking. Next to the garbage dumpsters, I saw a man lying on the ground. He was shirtless, dirty, and sprawled out on the concrete. He looked like he had just barely made it to that place to lie down. At first glance, it looked like he wasn’t even alive. It looked like he had chosen that place to crash because it was hidden away where no one could see him. But I saw him. And when I saw him, I immediately looked away. The sight was horrible and the pain that followed felt too heavy to bear. I was in a funk for the rest of the night thinking about it. How did he end up there? What went wrong?

            The next morning, I woke up and found myself thinking about that scene again. I was ashamed of the way I chose to respond to it. Is the unbearable pain I felt for that man really a good enough excuse to look away and keep on walking? Does telling myself,  “I just can’t handle how sad that is” really count as having compassion for a stranger? Because the truth is, Jesus doesn’t turn his face from anyone. He is not concerned about their pain being too much for his heart to bear. Jesus is not afraid of allowing someone else’s pain to become his own. He looks at our pain, no matter how big or small, and bravely stares at it straight in the face. In doing that, Jesus shows us compassion that is boundless. It’s because of this we can know true acceptance and comfort in our darkest hour.

             I’ve really struggled with this lately. How can I walk around the slums of India and allow my heart to embrace the immense amount of suffering and injustice that is everywhere? And how can I be completely overwhelmed and terrified with the same amount of suffering that is on my own neighborhood streets? Why am I not afraid to embrace the pain of others when I’m on the other side of the world, but hit the ground running when it approaches me here in Seattle?   

             
              Vulnerability is scary. Fear can feel relentless sometimes. Compassion doesn’t always feel good. And the human spirit is a powerful thing. The more I think about it, the more I count my encounter with the man by the dumpsters as sheer grace…and a true gift. The fact that we can look at strangers and feel so deeply for them; that is grace. In so many ways, I am just like that man lying by the dumpsters. I’ve felt hopeless and alone. And at the end of the day, it’s a beautiful thing that we share those same feelings, because it connects the human spirit and it doesn’t divide. I count it as no mistake when God decided to make us all human.

             So what’s worse? Embracing the suffering of someone else or embracing apathy in your own heart? At some point, we can’t keep on claiming our own ignorance. There are only so many times you can run and hide.

            Maybe I need to start being brave and allow someone else’s pain to manifest in my own heart. Maybe I need to choose courage and stop allowing fear to have the last word. Maybe in doing this, I will be able to see Jesus a little more clearly. Maybe that’s what it means to run after the heart of God. Maybe that’s what seeing Jesus alive outside of the four corners of a church building looks like. I think I’d rather see Jesus in the face of a drunken homeless man than in a routine church service.

So I’m going to try and stop running away from fear of pain. I think there is more beauty than brokenness in allowing compassion to complete it’s work.