A few weeks ago I heard this term, used by Christine Cain in an interview she was giving, coined ‘Compassion Fatigue.’ For all intents and purposes, compassion fatigue in the church can be described as the exhaustion of the soul, mind, and spirit that Christians face, as they absorb the weighty realities that exist between vision campaigns and hope rallies, and the un-glamourous, messy work of the gospel.
Anne Lamott describes in her book, Some Assembly Required, a visit she took to India. Moved by compassion towards the begging children she saw on the streets of India, she handed them some of her currency. And, as an unintended consequence, she was mobbed. Gobs of people pressing in on her from every side, pleading for something, anything, that she could give. Her monies would never match the need. She was encouraged by a seasoned traveler to pour her resources elsewhere to help the poor...or she’d never be able to walk 3 feet down the streets.
That’s a metaphorical picture of compassion fatigue.
I believe compassion fatigue is only compounded by the continual drip of desperate need. Human trafficking, racism, over-crowded jails, the addiction epidemic, the homeless, adoption, broken marriages, cancer, nuclear weapons, sexual abuse, etc...it seems unending. Now, add to that the recent devastating natural disasters, and an alarmingly frightening increase in mass shootings...and yeah, that’s enough to make anyone not want to get out of bed in the morning. To personalize this a step further, consider the continual weight of raising teenagers, fighting to heal a dying marriage, caring for a loved one with disabilities...yeah, I think this would encompass compassion fatigue as well. The gist is this...I do not have enough to accomplish what needs to be done to care for others.
Been there, done that. Still do.
But, I also think it's beneficial to discuss another type of challenge that inhibits the call to Biblical compassion. This one, rooted in fear, manifests itself as self-preservation. In Genesis 38, a man named Onan had a brother who passed away. According to Hebrew law, Onan had the responsibility to personally impregnate the wife of his late brother. The primary reason for this arrangement was to ‘raise up offspring’ for Onan’s deceased brother. The passage says that Onan knew that the offspring would not be his, so he ‘wasted’ his seed. And God was displeased.
Onan supposed that this child would prevent him from possessing the birthright he so desperately wanted for himself. The word that is used to represent Onan’s not ‘giving’ is spelled Nun Taw Nun. Nun, representing fertility and growth, and Taw representing the completion of a cycle. His choice to not give, according to Chaim Ben Toreth, a teacher of the Hebrew texts, was ‘preventing the completion of a cycle that would bring a Savior into the world to be shared... for all generations.’ For, it was through his brother’s widow, a few generations later, that King David was to be born, and generations following that, Jesus Christ. As Onan disobeyed the calling on his life, he forfeited the opportunity given him to participate in the genetic side of the birth and ancestry of Christ.
And now I must pause and ask myself the question...why...what was his deeper motivation?
Onan was trying to obtain and preserve the desires of his heart in his own way, totally unaware that God had a plan to fulfill those desires all along, through the path of obedient trust...it just wouldn’t play out how he had expected. He felt that he was being asked to give away more than he would receive. In Onan’s case, the gist is this... ‘I don’t want to give to others...because who is going to take care of me if I do?’
Been there, done that. Still do.
As every human being knows, when we feel we are being stolen from, it only tightens the grip on what we hold. When we feel exhausted, we isolate. And when we feel hopeless, we quit.
If the gospel is only about what we, in our own strength and might, can give and get...it would surely be handicapped by the boundaries of our humanity. But, if in faith, we neither despise or withhold our contributions...there truly is no telling how these threads in our lives will all tie up. You never know what needs and light your life will carry for others.
Sure, we need clarity. There is no way one person can singularly impact and lead in every broken sphere mentioned above. But, what if we just share...insecurities and weaknesses included...what it is that we have been called by God to share?
Will the promise that God will refresh and restore us be enough to keep us going? Will the principle of Kingdom sowing and reaping keep us bent towards generosity? Will the fact that God has a way of rising life from the things of death, in the most remarkable of ways, yield hope?
If these tenants are correct, and I believe they are, then maybe I can hold compassion in one hand, and the reality of soul fatigue in the other, without letting them cancel each other out. Maybe I can give, and even risk, knowing that anything I sow in faith will yield a holy return. And, somehow, someway, a life that is surrendered to the Lord, to bring him glory (mess and all), most wondrously does.
I think Onan’s story has a deeper resounding than merely the argument for, or against, birth control. Oddly enough, his life reminds us not to tire, isolate, or bury away what it is that we are being asked to give, for fear that we won’t receive back what it is that we are searching for. And, in the midst of these current suffocating tragedies, to not devalue the task at hand in hopelessness...whether raising your babies at home, pressing into a friendship with someone not ‘like’ you, or honoring the difficult people in your life, etc...it matters. It all matters.
Even as the darkness that surrounds seems overwhelming, and it most definitely is, let’s remind each other to keep sojourning from a place of hope. For we don’t have to have all of the answers and game plays and resources. We just need to stay open and remember that everything is from grace, by grace and for His glory...we just get the privilege of being part of a greater story.
For the Lord God is a sun and shield; The Lord gives grace and glory; No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly. Psalms 84:11
Love,
Jenn
Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash