Charity as Empathy

Volume Two—Chapter Six CHARITY AS EMPATHY

#Introduction

The scriptural attestations of the importance of charity are remarkable. Consider, for example, 1 Corinthians 13:1-3:

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.

Or, consider verse 13 of the same chapter: “And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.”

Writing these chapters on charity (chapters 6, 7, and 8) has been a life-changing experience for me. No one of you will benefit from reading this material as much as I have from preparing it. The changes I must yet make, and the repenting I must yet do, relative to the ideal of charity, however, are many. I have become aware of my frequently uncharitable thoughts, words, and actions and my need to repent. I hope these chapters will be of help to you in your exciting quest to acquire more love or charity for your fellow man and for God.

#The Definition of Charity

Let us first define charity, on two levels. The first is the definition most commonly proffered: Charity is that love God has for his children. It is the divine attribute of love. Scriptural support for this definition may be found in such verses as: “I know that this love which thou hast had for the children of men is charity” (Ether 12:34). While this definition is wholly accurate, it assumes we already understand God’s love. It presupposes we know what it means that God loves us. Thus, it fails to provide us a fully useful and functional understanding of charity.

Let us consider a more practical definition of charity. While this definition is not doctrinally official, it provides us a place to start in our quest to understand the concept: A man has charity for another when he yearns for the temporal and spiritual welfare of the other as deeply as he yearns for his own. By temporal welfare, I mean physical, social, and emotional well-being. Spiritual welfare includes the prospects for an individual’s salvation. Ultimately it consists of the highest possible level of salvation— exaltation. The welfare of another includes his personal self esteem in all these areas.

If we are to possess charity, we must be genuinely as concerned about the other’s self esteem, or self-concept, as we are our own.

We know that the Father and the Son have perfect charity. Does this mean they are as interested in your well-being, in all areas, as much as they are their own? Do they yearn for your success in spiritual things—even your exaltation? Indeed they are, and indeed they do. We must acquire this attribute for ourselves. We must come to sincerely yearn for the welfare of others and for their exaltation. This seems to be the practical essence of our acquiring charity.

#The Lord’s Commandments to Be Charitable

Have you noticed that the majority of the Lord’s commandments have to do with how we treat and interact with others? For example: “Love thy neighbor as thyself.” “Love even your enemies.” “Honour thy father and thy mother.” “Thou shalt not kill.” “Thou shalt not commit adultery.” “Thou shalt not steal.” “Thou shalt not bear false witness.” “Thou shalt not envy or covet.” We have been commanded to be “meek,” “poor in spirit,” “merciful,” “truthful,” “long-suffering,” “forgiving,” and “peacemakers.” We are commanded to avoid “wrath,” “anger,” and “materialism.” And there are many others. Each of these commandments provides us with guidance as to how we ought to treat and interact with others. Each is concerned with some aspect of God’s commandment to be charitable.

The point is worth re-emphasizing. The vast majority of the Lord’s commandments to us consist of his commandments to soften and open our hearts, to put ourselves and our interests in the background, and to treat others charitably. And, the extent to which we obey these commandments will surely form much of the Lord’s judgment of us.

Several times daily, we are brought in contact with other people and have opportunities to interact with and minister to them. Each of is presented regularly with abundant opportunities to be charitable toward others. Also, each of us is tempted daily to be uncharitable.

#Charity Is a Gift, Actually Gifts of the Spirit

Like all spiritual gifts, charity must be acquired by diligent and deliberate obedient effort (D&C 130:20-21). Then, when our efforts are judged adequate, we begin to receive, incrementally and by personal revelation, the spiritual gift of charity. It would seem, however, that the gift of charity is complex and consists of at least two separate gifts, and perhaps even more. I will call these two gifts: (1) charity as empathy, and (2) charity as a revealed sense of others.

Of all the gifts of the Spirit, perhaps the one that should most occupy our attentions and efforts is charity. Apparently, it is the most important. It is also the most difficult and challenging to obtain. There are traps and pitfalls along the way. We will all spend a lifetime in pursuit of this gift. None of us will acquire it to perfection here in mortality.

So, I believe our time will be well spent as we consider in some depth this vital concept. Our careful contemplation now will help us along the way toward acquiring this crucial gift. In this chapter we will consider one aspect of charity—charity as empathy, and in the following chapter we will discuss charity as a revealed sense of others. Let us proceed!

#Charity as Empathy

Empathy is that deep understanding of others born of experiencing their vicissitudes. We may speak of empathy in worldly terms, but ultimately it is a gift of the Spirit. It is a revealed, intimate understanding of another’s feelings, thoughts, and actions. One cannot acquire this insight simply by being told about the plight of others. Empathy for another is acquired only by experiencing what he has experienced. The profound understanding so produced leads naturally to a concern for the other and a consuming desire to look after their needs—their temporal and spiritual welfare. This concern is a nearly inevitable part of empathy.

When I was in college, there were a couple of wise sayings commonly spoken. One originated in the Broadway Play Fantasticks: “Without a hurt, the heart is hollow.” The other was from Kahlil Gibran’s book, The Prophet: “The deeper sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain” (29). Both suggest the positive benefit of suffering well life’s vicissitudes.

The vicissitudes offered up by this mortal experience may be categorized in various ways. Certainly a major adversity, at least for those striving to obey the Lord’s commandments, is the natural self of each of us. When faced with the decision whether or not to obey a commandment, our natural self pulls one way and our spiritual self pulls the other. As we struggle to obey the Lord’s commandments, we acquire empathy for those also struggling to abide by those same commandments.

In addition, adversities occur from without ourselves. As we struggle with our

own adversities, we acquire empathy for others who experience the same adversities.

Is empathy, then, the same as charity? The connection between empathy and the yearning to serve the object of one’s empathy is irresistible. An individual with the gift of empathy is inevitably consumed with the well being of the other. Is this not charity? It seems clear: the gifts of empathy and charity are intimately related. Having empathy for another is virtually the same as having charity for another.

The spiritual gift of empathy is unique, in some measure, among all other gifts of the Spirit. Other gifts require each candidate for the gift to muster the character and deliberately act. Empathy is different. Empathy requires that that we personally suffer the vicissitudes of another. We may deliberately avow that we are willing to suffer in place of another. We may also listen sympathetically to the accounts of the struggles of the other. We may also exert ourselves to try to come to an understanding of the other’s sufferings. But, the actual suffering of the adversities of another is not under our own direct control. The best we can do is endure well those adversities we are dealt, both internal (denying one’s natural self) and external (adversities from without ourselves). These latter adversities mostly occur through no fault of our own. While the Lord may not manage all the particulars of our lives, mortality is divinely designed to provide each of us with an adequate modicum of adversity and suffering. The Lord wants us to learn from this suffering. He has spoken through his prophets: “For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things” (2 Nephi 2:11).

In a previous chapter, we learned that the Savior, in Gethsemane and at Calvary, acquired perfect empathy for each of us. He personally experienced the adversities every human being has experienced or will experience. This perfect empathy qualified him to become the perfect judge of us all.2 The Father orchestrated the suffering of his only begotten Son. So shall he eventually orchestrate an adequate measure of suffering for each of us. We will not acquire the gift of empathy in its entirety here in mortality as did the Savior. But we will make incremental progress until that eventual “perfect day” (D&C 50:23-24). At that time we will possess revealed empathy for all our brothers and sisters.

The scriptures corroborate the idea that the Lord expects mortality to provide us each with ample opportunities to overcome adversities. The Book of Mormon prophet Jacob urged his listeners to be more than obedient. He admonished them: “Wherefore, we would to God that we could persuade all men not to rebel against God, to provoke him to anger, but that all men would believe in Christ, and view his death, and suffer his cross and bear the shame of the world” (Jacob 1:8). He who suffers well those adversities that beset him, particularly those which are undeserved, “view[s] his [the Saviors] death,” “suffer[s] his cross” and “bear[s] the shame of the world.” Productive suffering causes us to grow spiritually—we grow in empathy for others.

I have previously referred to this process of acquiring the gift of empathy as spiritual growth that occurs by the “atonement principle.” The Lord clearly sees value in our suffering those trials that inevitably beset us in mortality. He grew and became our Savior as he suffered the pains and vicissitudes of all men. We will not grow as much, but he desires that we each grow by the same qualitative process, on a smaller scale. As we grow, we become, in the words of the apostle Paul, members of “the fellowship of his [Christ’s] sufferings” (Philippians 3:10). Perhaps, those who enter this fellowship are allowed to have empathy for others even though their sufferings are not identical to those of the others. Perhaps our suffering one type of severe adversity helps us to have empathy for those whose severe sufferings are quantitatively similar but qualitatively different from ours.

#Suffering for Another

There is another type of personal suffering we may experience that can have a direct and positive effect on others and upon ourselves. Sometimes the person who desires to manifest his charity is called upon to suffer for the recipient of that charity. Examples might include the charitable person’s repeatedly fasting for the welfare of the served. Or, a charitable person may intercede for another and take responsibility for a situation that would otherwise have resulted in the suffering of the served.

A poignant example is contained in a folk tale retold by Timothy Robinson in his children’s book, He Took My Lickin’ for Me:

Once upon a time, long ago, during the Great Depression, way up in the mountains of Virginia, there was a one-room schoolhouse and a pack of rowdy students that no teacher could handle. The boys were so rough that they had sent four teachers packing that very year. A young, gray-eyed college graduate answered the ad for a new teacher and was given the job. The old school director looked him up and down and warned him, “I don’t want to mislead. You’re in for a beatin’, ain’t no bones about it. Every teacher’s took it, and you’ll take it, too.”

“I’ll risk it,” said the young man.

The next morning the newly hired teacher stood before the class. “We’re here to conduct school,” he said. The boys in the class screamed and hooted. One of the boys, Big Tom they called him, leaned over to the others and said, “I won’t need no help. I can chase this little bird myself.”

“Now I want a good school, but I admit I don’t know how to do that without your help. Suppose we have a few rules. You tell me what rules we should have, and I’ll write them on the blackboard.”

“No stealing’!” someone shouted, and the teacher wrote it on the board. “On time!” came another. Soon there were ten rules written out neatly on the board.

“Now a rule is not much good without a punishment attached,” said the teacher. “What should we do if someone breaks the rules?”

“Ten licks with the rod without his coat on!” someone yelled. The teacher looked up at the rod hanging on the wall. “Ten licks. That’s pretty severe, boys. Are you ready to stand by it?” The class agreed.

Not long after, Big Tom came into class very upset. Someone had stolen his lunch. The teacher interviewed the boys one by one and soon discovered the thief—a little scrawny fellow, scarcely ten years old. The teacher called the boy forward to receive his punishment. “Take off your coat,” he instructed.

“I deserve it. I’m guilty. I’ll take the ten licks, but please don’t make me take off my coat.” “Were you here the day we made the rules?” The boy nodded, and the teacher took the rod down from its hook. You agreed to live by it. Take off your coat.” “Please don’t make me,” the boy pleaded. But slowly his fingers began to work at the buttons on his jacket, and what did the teacher see? He had no shirt on underneath, and the bones in his bare back stuck out all over. The boys face was red with shame.

“Why have you come to school without your shirt, Jim?” the teacher asked. “My daddy’s dead and my momma’s poor. I only got but one shirt, and it’s in the wash today. I wore my brother’s big coat to keep warm.” The teacher looked down at the rod in his hand. He hesitated, unsure what to do.

Suddenly Big Tom jumped to his feet. “I’ll take his lickin’ for him” he said. “Very well,” said the teacher. “There is a certain law that provides for a substitute, if you’re all agreed.” Tom ripped off his coat and stood over the other boy. The teacher started the lashings, but after the fifth stroke the rod broke across Tom’s back. The whole class was sobbing. Little Jim had reached up from below and caught Tom with both arms around his neck. “I’m sorry I took your lunch, Tom” he cried. “I was awful hungry. I’ll love you forever for takin’ my lickin’ for me. Yes, I will love you forever.”

It is impossible to separate the Savior’s perfect empathy for us from his perfect charity for us. Both were completed in Gethsemane and at Calvary.

Several years ago I had a personal experience I’m embarrassed to relate for reasons that will become obvious. I was diagnosed to have a malignant tumor. I experienced the anxiety and fear one might expect. I believe the Lord revealed to me, in those weeks and months, the transient nature of this mortal existence. The possibility of my own death became a practical reality.

Coincidentally, at that time I saw, in my office, a woman patient who had perceived some irregular heart palpitations. A thorough evaluation revealed that her heart was normal. Her rhythm irregularity was benign and of little concern. She had been referred to me by another physician who had also diagnosed her to have a malignant tumor with a poor prognosis. My efforts to reassure her that her heart was normal were unsuccessful. She centered much of the anxiety she experienced from her malignancy on her heart. As a result, I received frequent telephone calls from her. I reluctantly admit I began to be frustrated by her frequent calls. I even appealed to our telephone operator to make me a little less accessible to this particular patient.

One evening, I began thinking about her malignancy and the fear and anxiety her disease must be causing her. Because I had been similarly diagnosed, I felt her insecurity and fear. It washed over me all at once. She was living alone and had no family in town to lean upon. I obtained her phone number from our medical records department, and I called her. I felt she just might want to talk to someone. We spoke for almost an hour. On several occasions since, I have mused over my telephoning her. Frankly, it was quite unlike me to initiate that call to a patient whose heart needed no further attention. I think we both benefited from the call.

We may conclude that charity is empathy, and empathy is charity.

1 For a more complete discussion of adversity, see volume 3, chapter 1, Adversity and Suffering and volume 3, chapter 2, The Roles of Suffering in Our Lives.

See volume 1, chapter 19, The Essence of the Lord’s Atonement.