That is such a simple rule, isn’t it? Jesus tells us that this sentence sums up the entire basis of Judaism—the Law that guides people in relationship with God, and the Prophets who herd them back onto the path of righteousness when they stray. All is contained in this one short commandment.
Rabbi Hillel, who lived in the century before Jesus, made a similar statement. He said, “What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow: this is the whole Torah; the rest is the explanation; go and learn.”
This sounds so easy. Don’t do bad things to other people. That commandment is like the trunk of a tree that is rooted in the relationship between God and God’s people. The trunk sprouts ten branches: the Ten Commandments. And the ten branches in turn sprout 613 laws that cover everything in our daily lives, including how to treat the foreigners next door, how not to break up a fight, and how to choose fabric for your next sewing project. The purpose of living by these laws is to keep people’s minds and hearts focused on their relationship with God and with one another, no matter what they are doing.
In every community, though, there is someone who gets so interested in the fine details of the Law—the little branches and twigs—that they forget about the spirit of the Law—the trunk that nurtures the whole tree. A ritual like handwashing before a meal is both a hygienic practice and an opportunity for a short prayer of gratitude. But it can also be used as a weapon against a hungry person who has no access to clean water.
Powerful people can weaponize the Law against those who are too poor and powerless to perform all the small details of observance. Over and over, the community of God drifts away from the spirit of the Law.
And over and over, a prophet will arise to alert the community that they are straying dangerously off course. These individuals function as the conscience of kings and generals and priests. And Presidents. A few weeks ago we heard the words of the latest prophet to preach mercy and justice to power: Bishop Miriam Budde. The message of the prophets is consistent: Do justice, love mercy, walk humbly with your God.
Jesus was raised and educated in that tradition, but he took the rule a step further. He said, “Don’t just avoid causing harm to others. Be proactive: do good to others, as you would like them to do to you.” And he doesn’t distinguish between friends and enemies. We call this the Golden Rule, because it’s the standard for all other guidelines. We can test the truth of our actions by how well they express this commandment.
Again, it sounds so easy. Think of what you would like and give that or do that for the other person. And don’t do anything you wouldn’t like to have done to you.
And yet, everyone I talk with about this topic has pointed out the obvious flaw in the Golden Rule: What if what’s good for me is not good for you?
Good intentions can go bad when we do what we think is best for another person. There’s the relative who gives you a sweater that looks great—on them. Or the person who hugs you when you really don’t want a hug. Or a President who apparently believes he is “saving” the nation. “This is for your own good” or “I know you better than you know yourself” can be rationales for doing what we really want. Abusive parents say, “You’ll thank me for this someday.” Colonizers convince themselves that they are actually leading “ignorant natives” to the blessings of Christianity or democracy. I get to decide what’s good for you, because it’s good for me. Jesus said so.
That’s the easy way to follow the Golden Rule.
But just after Jesus gives us this commandment, he tells us to beware of the easy path or the wide gate. These lead to destruction. He counsels us to enter into life by choosing the narrow gate, the one that’s hard to get through. The road less taken.
That road consists of an open heart and mind. To follow that path, you must make a connection with the person you are trying to help or keep from harming.
This is not sympathy. Sympathy looks down from above and offers its solution to the problem. Sympathy knows nothing about how the sufferer got to that place, or what they have already tried and failed at, or what they may really need. Sympathy stays at a distance and makes the whole story about itself. It says, “I feel just terrible for what you’re going through. Can’t you see how my heart aches for you?”
Empathy means approaching as one human to another—not as a helper, a savior, a Lady Bountiful, a superior person bringing charity or advice–but as an equal. Empathy says, “I understand your pain, because I’ve been there too.” Or it may say, “I’ve never been in your situation, but I see that you’re hurting, and I’m here for you.”
An empathic person does not assume that the sufferer is just like them. Nor do they immerse themselves so much in the suffering so that they become useless to the sufferer.
Empathy lets go of its own need to be right about what the other person needs. It even lets go of the need to be needed.
Recently, I’ve learned about what’s called the Platinum Rule: this commandment tries to correct that flaw in the Golden Rule by saying, “Treat others as they would like to be treated.” And there’s even a Titanium Rule: “Treat others by considering how they interpret respect and what they need and want.”
But how do we know what someone else really needs, or how they want to be treated, or what respect means for them?
We ask them, as one struggling human to another.
Of course, there are times when asking is not possible or appropriate. If you’re trying to save a child from drowning you don’t stop to ask permission. If you find someone unconscious on the sidewalk, you call 911.
But when it’s possible, we ask: “Do you need help? How can I help you?” And then we listen to what they tell us.
They might say, “No, thank you, I really can’t face visitors right now, but may I call you sometime this week?” Or “Thanks, but I need to try to work through this by myself.” Or “Thanks for the handout. Please, let me help you carry your groceries to your car.” Or, like a woman on a street in New Orleans: “I don’t want your money. I want you to take me to dinner and talk with me.”
Just before Jesus gives us the Golden Rule, he says, “Who among you, if your child asks for bread, would offer a stone? Or if your child asks for fish, would offer a snake? If you, imperfect as you are, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Parent in heaven give good gifts to those who ask?”
And then he says, Therefore, do unto others as you would have them do to you.”
That is, because we trust that God will provide what we really need, because we want to give our children exactly what they need—so we will do to others.
Empathy is love that empties itself of assumptions and judgements, so it can be open to the actual experience and needs of the other person. We are able to manifest this love because the intimate love of the Holy Spirit listens to our needs and hears what will sustain and help us.
And as it turns out, that love—from God, from all creation, from our fellow humans—actually is how we would want to be treated: to be seen, heard, recognized, believed.
It appears that Jesus had it right after all.
AMEN