The Courageous Choice of Empathy

Love traverses a bridge of understanding

Whoever is slow to anger has great understanding, but one who has a hasty temper exalts folly.

Proverbs 14:29 (NRSV-UE)

I don’t love the word “enemies” for who I deal with, but there legitimately are people who would prefer if I didn’t exist. In the last two weeks, I had one twitter user tell his followers, about me, “Feed em lead.” And another user added me to a list of people titled “Belongs in a gulag.” And now some are arguing for the death penalty for all LGBTQ+ folks.

And yet, Christ told us to “love our enemies”. But there’s a pattern these days of saying “to love them is to tell them how wrong they are.” Or even, “to love them I must prevent them from sinning.” Those may actually be true. At times, we do actually step in and say “this is not ok.”

The problem is when rebuke is where love starts. Because if love starts there, it’s starting from a point where it doesn’t even understand the other person.

Note from Celeste: This post is a bit “meta” - it’s not about any particular issue - it could be applied to almost anything. But it’s foundational to so many things I intend to write, and I felt it necessary to have it up as a resource that explains why I write the way I do, and what my goals are.

Why not empathy?

I mean that question sincerely - why do we not empathize?

Just following orders

For many, someone they trust told them “those people are bad.” In the spy movie Bourne Ultimatum, recovering assassin Jason Bourne corners Paz (another assassin) sent to kill him. Paz was given an order by his superiors, who he’s followed unquestioningly. And Paz has likely been told “Bourne is dangerous - you’ll save lives by killing him.” Bourne knows that if he doesn’t kill Paz, Paz will keep pursuing him. They were both created by the same program. But Bourne just walks away.

Later, sure enough, Bourne is on the run, and the assassin finally corners him. Bourne is unarmed, and completely at the assassin’s mercy. This is where it gets interesting.

Paz looks at Bourne and asks: “Why didn’t you take the shot?”

Bourne answers, in part: “Do you even know why you’re supposed to kill me?”

Paz lowers his weapon as Bourne makes his escape.

That lesson is applicable to so many situations - but specifically, in situations where we’ve been taught to fear, distrust, hate, or judge someone. I’ve had pastors lie about me in order to keep their members from speaking with me. The members who do talk to me almost invariably reach the conclusion that they were lied to. And that while I’m not perfect, I’m certainly not who they were told I was.

But this dynamic is real: sometimes, people will tell us “don’t talk to those people.”

But they’ve done great harm

The second version says: they don’t deserve your understanding. They’ve harmed too many people, too deeply. Don’t bother with them.

For this one, I think of Hiccup from How to Train Your Dragon. Hiccup’s been taught to “kill on sight” any dragon he encounters. But he discovers that the dragons are actually under the control of a bigger dragon, and not as “evil” as was assumed. In a conversation with his dad, Stoic the Vast, who has always hated dragons, Stoic says “they’ve killed hundreds of us,” to which Hiccup replies, “And we’ve killed thousands of them!”

Sometimes the historical or even ongoing harm done by another group is used to negate the need for empathy and understanding. We can act as though someone is unworthy of understanding until they stop doing the thing we want them to stop doing.

This also mirrors the opening proverb - showing that when we get angry enough, we just can’t even imagine why the person we’re angry at would do what they’ve done.

But they hold a toxic view

Sometimes we’ll discount someone simply because of a toxic view. I’ll have more to say about it later, but the podcast The Witch Trials of JK Rowling shows two types of people unwilling to empathize. The podcast loosely centers around the backlash Rowling has experienced as a result of her views on transgender issues, which myself and many others would say are harmful to the transgender community.

First, there’s Rowling herself. At no point in the entire podcast do I hear any level of concern for transgender people. At no point does she get choked up thinking about this or that trans person. And she repeatedly represents trans people in ways that we would not represent ourselves.

But second, there are others who misrepresent Rowling. I don’t believe it’s a majority, and I think the podcast overemphasizes them, but no one can deny that some really do exist. Rowling is not Donald Trump, Ron DeSantis, or other far right haters of trans people. Her views are harmful, but there is a difference.

Neither is served by not listening to the other. Arguing with Rowling as though she’s DeSantis will convince few, but confuse many. And arguing with most trans people as though we think that Rowling should be violently attacked is similarly unlikely to be productive.

Fear

But I’d argue the absolute largest one is this: Fear.

We are afraid of finding out that we are wrong about something. For much of my time in The Network (a culty group of churches), I knew that if I became affirming of LGBTQ+ people, it’d mean I would have to leave the church. And leaving the church would mean losing friends. So I didn’t even listen to any affirming arguments. I was never cruel, but my reading had a heavy selection bias, and I had no queer friends.

Why Empathy?

“In the moment when I truly understand my enemy, understand him well enough to defeat him, then in that very moment I also love him.” - Ender Wiggin

Ender’s Game, by Orson Scott Card

Sci-fi author Orson Scott Card has been vocal about his anti-LGBTQ+ views, so is an uncomfortable quote here. But I believe his articulation of the effect of understanding someone is correct. How can you truly understand someone, even an enemy, without developing some form of love for them.

An example: I am very, very afraid of spiders. They’re the worst. I will never go to Australia, because I don’t want to find myself on the same continent as some of the horrors they have there. I once got stuck playing The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess because there was a large spider that I could not bring myself to face. I never finished the game.

But… I’ve learned about spiders. The function they play in the ecosystem. The strength of their webs. The beauty of their webs. What an Orb Spider’s instincts teaches us about nature and our own choices. And even I must admit: spiders are indeed incredible creatures. And in that, I know my fear of them is irrational. Real, but irrational.

Love is too strong a word, but let’s say… respect?

And spiders are not human.

For humans, there’s almost always something lovable. A persistence, creativity, sense of humor, kindness, or any other trait that should inspire us and move us to love the unique person in front of us.

And so I find myself practicing this: Have I done the work of empathy enough that I truly can kind of understand the person in front of me? Have I looked for what’s lovable? Have I asked the question: Why do they think they are doing the things they are doing?

Moana helping Te Ka realize that she does not have to be who she has become. An interaction not even remotely possible without Moana’s empathy.

Armies of Straw People

Most are familiar with the “Straw Man Argument.” Presenting some weak, one-dimensional version of your “enemy”, and then pounding on it. Straw people are easily defeated. Armies of straw people are still easily defeated.

What I see in The Discourse is this instinct to present the worst possible read of “the other side”, and then to rail against that. The problem is it’s a characterization that doesn’t even resemble the people involved.

As an example, at the moment, many would present JK Rowling as hateful toward all trans people. However, she’s been very clear that there’s at least some set of transgender people whom she believes are worthy of protection and acceptance. She is not Ron DeSantis or Matt Walsh.

By creating a straw person out of Rowling, it makes for a target that is easily defeated and mocked, but it’s not real, and Rowling herself (and everyone watching) will recognize that it’s not actually dealing with her arguments.

And this further enables people to hurl the most vile threats imaginable at her. That way has nothing of love, and can and will turn off so many who might otherwise have been interested.

A Better Way

If I speak in the tongues of humans and of angels but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

1st Corinthians 13:1

I often mourn that passage has become cliché. So many of our arguments revolve around, “What is love?”¹ And this whole passage could not be more clear about what love truly looks like. The kind that Christ was talking about when he said “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

I think we also misrepresent this verse as saying “the words I am saying are the same, but if they’re not backed by love, they are useless.” And that’s probably true, but I think love for someone shapes the words we speak to them. They can come from a place of understanding, of empathy, of care. We’re more likely to ask questions. We’re more likely to admit our own imperfections. We’re more likely to learn something and also be able to share our view with the person, but as someone who loves them, not someone who is trying to beat them.

And this is what it feels like when someone tries to speak with us without understanding us, right? They’re noisy. Oh my goodness - go on Twitter². They are noisy. So noisy. But the loving neighbor is not. They’re unassuming, quiet. But their words carry more weight because you can’t just dismiss them as “bad faith.” You can tell this is a person who cares enough to talk.

I have people from my past who have walked out of my life because they simply would not take the time to understand my position. They constructed a narrative for themselves, convicted me of being something worthy of shunning, and never spoke to me again.

My choice of empathy

Let’s wrap up. In my writing, I try so hard to avoid straw people. I try hard to think about the following:

1. What do they truly believe? What’s motivating them?

2. What are they afraid of?

3. What are they trying to protect?

4. What led them to this point?

5. Would I want to trade places with them?

And often, by question five, I feel awful for them. For people calling for my execution, I know at least the following:

1. They are deprived of seeing the beauty of queer people in the world.

2. They live as a person who has to spend hours a day being hateful.

3. They likely don’t even know they’re wrong. They don’t know why they’re supposed to kill me.

And if I do it right, I might even shed a tear for them. What a wasted life.

So is everyone right?

Joe Rigney wrote for Desiring God a few years ago about, “The Enticing Sin of Empathy.” This article had the provocative subtitle “How Satan Corrupts Through Compassion.” It made the catastrophic error of assuming empathy had to include agreeing with and affirming the other person’s choices. That’s false.

Empathy only requires that you seek to understand why a person does what they do. Not say it’s a good idea. I have wept over my former pastor, who was emotionally and psychologically abusive toward me, causing destruction in my life and my family. But I think I know why he does what he does. And I feel terrible for him. It shapes my writing about him.

I still use strong words for those who I believe are doing harm. My writing won’t shy away from saying what I think needs said. But I always want to do it in a way that understands the humanity of the person I am talking to. If my writing rebukes, I’d much rather hit “Publish” with a sense of grief than a sense of glee.

Epilogue: How to Empathy

I want to leave you with something encouraging, and here’s what I’ve got today: you can actually do this, and do it well. Here’s the three drafts most of what I write goes through:

1. Draft #1: Just type the “swearing” emoji. It’s cathartic.

2. Draft #2: Heated, nothing held back, but using words, not just “RAAAAR.” This helps me figure out myself. What am I upset about what they wrote? At least half the time, I stop after this draft and realize I don’t need to say anything at all.

3. Pause: spend time considering why the person I’m upset with has done the upsetting thing. What do they think they were accomplishing? I don’t proceed until I have an answer to this that feels credible and human. It needs to be honest, not sugarcoated. But typically I find that there are real human fears - things I’ve experienced myself - that result in them acting the way they are acting. Sometimes this step will negate my interest in responding as well.

4. Draft #3: Careful, grace filled critique. I said about the original letter I wrote about The Network that I wanted it to be “soaked with grace.” This last one is frequently long. It goes through carefully, outlining what I felt was wrong and (more importantly) why it was wrong and (even more importantly) why I felt I had to say it was wrong. All of that is meant to help not only the subject of my writing but those reading it. I’ll write more about how I do these in the future. A lot goes into getting it to a spot where I’m comfortable with.

I’ll then re-read it a few times, removing some of the harshest words that are still present, and trying to season the writing with even a bit more grace, a bit more love, and yes - a bit more humility, admitting where I don’t know things, and hopefully asking a few questions or offering to correct things if I’m wrong.

With that approach, I can feel at peace that I have written in a way that has a chance of at least starting some dialogue with the subject, or at least avoids turning readers into a mob.

And you can do this too - it’s hard, and some may choose a different way at times. But I truly believe it’s the most effective way of reaching not just those we disagree with, but onlookers who are truly curious.

Put simply: I’ve never, ever, regretted showing love to someone, digging deep to understand them in a way that feels accurate to them.

-Celeste

Edited to add: My friend, writer and artist Jenai Auman, wrote a post titled Problematic People last month that visits similar topics. I hadn’t read that post before tonight, but I have learned so much about empathy from Jenai in the time I’ve known her and followed her work. I highly recommend reading her post, on her Substack Newsletter “Othered” below.

Problematic People

1. Baby, don’t hurt me.

2. I mean this rhetorically, not literally. I often tell people: Twitter is great if you know why you’re there. If you don’t, then it’s overwhelming and probably won’t help you much with anything.