Caring
has become one of those words. Words so overused its hard to know what they mean
anymore. Our politicians care, and so does the furniture salesman. Everyone
cares, but what does it mean? I consulted my good friend Webster. He informed me
that the word 'care'
means:
- A troubled state of mind; worry
- Close attention; heed
- A responsibility
To care for another is to feel some responsibility for them -- willingness to take on 'a troubled state of mind' for another. This reminds me of one of Max DePree's definitions of leadership: it is 'the willingness to bear pain'. (Leadership is An Art) You could say the same about our caring for one another. But how much pain? How much of another's troubles do we take on? When are we bearing pain in a healthy way, and when are we enabling, codependent, dysfunctional, or any of those other bad things we are supposed to not be these days? When does our worry and responsibility for another cross the line into self abuse?
We all agree that caring in general is a good thing. But what about when the call to care gets concrete? What could it possibly mean to care for: parents miles away and in failing health; children lost to the ravages of alcoholism; siblings trapped in abusive relationships; friends heading pel mel toward yet another disastrous relationship/job/financial opportunity; or an organization we love, mired in dysfunction. How do we care in these situations while still being the healthy, self conscious, individuated, neither enabling nor codependent people we are supposed to be?
Not Neat
I really don't have the foggiest idea. But I can say this much. There are times when caring simply does not look healthy. If healthy is defined as nice and neat boundaries, a perfect balance between self care and care for others, and never a sleepless night.......forget it. If we care, there is no escaping the worry, or the wondering if now is the right time to say something.
Caring is not clean. It is to be troubled and it is to bear pain. Carefree caring simply doesn't exist. Even God didn't pull it off. Over and over Israel turns from God like a rebellious child. God the Parent agonizes: 'How can I give you up Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel?...My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my fierce anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim...' (Hosea 11).
Over and over Jesus is troubled: "Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! (Luke 13). God does not come across as carefree in the Bible. In fact, the whole Christmas story is about God not maintaining 'healthy boundaries'. God being so troubled with our situation that He would send His Son. Emmanuel, God-with-us as Divine pain bearer.
Not God
But we are not God (Despite our efforts to the contrary.). How can we humans care?
I suppose we stumble on, knowing that our love wears many faces: at times moving toward, at times stepping back. Sometimes confrontational, tough and refusing to get sucked in; other times patient, present, and accepting of decisions that would not be our way.
For me prayer is the place to grapple with these decisions. I try to hold up these difficult gray areas to She who gets dirty with humanity, yet remains Other and holy. To pray and listen and wrestle like Jacob with the angel of God. Like him, our caring will leave us with a limp--of that we can be sure. To love another usually means limping at some time or another.
But we do not care alone. Always there is One whose love surpasses ours. In that I take comfort.
Questions:
- Who are you troubled over these days?
- What 'face' does your love call for--moving towards, or stepping back?