A need for compassion

The Mormon social media world has been abuzz the last few days with blog posts and articles and shared opinions on all sides about Kate Kelly (the founder of Ordain Women) and her disciplinary council that took place yesterday. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, a) you must have been watching the World Cup instead, b) lucky you, and c) just google it and you'll get plenty of info if you care to know.) I know that no one really needs one more essay on this subject, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about it for a few days and so I am going to unburden my mind and add my words to mix. 

So.

This is what I want to say: 

The whole thing breaks my heart. 

Not because I particularly support Ordain Women or Kate Kelly or have gender inequality arguments to champion (those issues are a separate discussion for another day). Not because I have doubts or questions or am struggling to feel accepted or heard and feel threatened by the situation. And not because of the PR damage that's being done by the publicity of it all, though that certainly makes me wince.

No, it breaks my heart because I believe in the goodness of people, especially the people of my church. I believe in their earnestness, their honest desires, and their faithful struggles. I believe that we are all - and I mean all - trying to do our best with good and honorable intentions. And right now, I see lines being drawn all around, and there are good people on both sides. But those lines are incredibly divisive and as soon as they are drawn, people stop listening and trying to understand. The lines create the illusion of an "us" and "them," but in reality, it's just "us": good people who are getting their hearts broken on every side.

I have been thinking about this beautiful definition and explanation of compassion given by Brene Brown (whom I absolutely admire and adore, fyi). This is what she says:

"I don’t believe that compassion is our default response. I think our first response to pain—ours or someone else’s—is to self-protect. We protect ourselves by looking for someone or something to blame. Or sometimes we shield ourselves by turning to judgment or by immediately going into fix-it mode."

Then she goes on to quote another writer, Pema Chodron: 

"In cultivating compassion we draw from the wholeness of our experience—our suffering, our empathy... Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It’s a relationship between equals. Only when we know our own darkness well can we be present with the darkness of others. Compassion becomes real when we recognize our shared humanity."

Where there are so many who are feeling hurt, wounded, angry, bitter, self-righteous, critical, defensive, and persecuted, I see such a need for some of this compassion. For reaching into our dark moments to sit with those who are in their own darkness right now. Like I said, I don't struggle with gender inequality issues within the church, but I know what it is like to feel out of place and alone, to feel that my concerns or opinions are being dismissed or belittled. I know what it is like to feel misunderstood and misjudged, and I hurt for those who are feeling it now. It's not a question of who is right or wrong, and arguing those points isn't going to help. Trying to cheer up or reason with those who are hurting isn't going to help. But sitting with them as they wade through their pain will keep those lines in the sand from forming deeper rifts.

I believe in "us" as a church membership and community, in our strengths and shared stories. I believe in the gospel of Jesus Christ and in the men called to lead the Church. I believe that I don't know all the details and that I don't have a right to pass judgment (especially where something as sensitive as a disciplinary council, which really shouldn't be publicized in the first place, is concerned). I trust my Heavenly Father to know the hearts of all his people. I also trust people to make mistakes, to have prejudices and misunderstandings, to try and fail, and to always always try again. I know this is not the first time, nor will it be the last time, that something divides us, but I truly hope that our compassion can bridge the lines that form and provide a safe landing for all our broken hearts.

Update: After I posted this last night, I realized there were a few things I wanted to clarify. First to say that there is a lot more that could be said about the specifics of the Kate Kelly and John Dehlin situations. I chose not to go into any of that here but I'd love to discuss it if anyone has something they want to say. Second, while showing compassion is not about who is right or wrong, there are rights and wrongs in this situation. I am having a hard time because I can understand both sides, but understanding doesn't compromise where I stand or what I believe. And while I don't feel like I can pass judgment, I do have opinions based on what I've read and my perception of events, but I thought that touching on those opinions might overshadow what I really wanted to say. So. There's that.