When Compassion Becomes Conditional

 


I’ve been thinking a great deal about the recently released Silenced No More report from Israel documenting the sexual violence, torture, mutilation, and murders committed during the October 7 attacks.

The details are horrifying.
Women, men and children unimaginably violated.
Families destroyed.
Young people murdered.
Hostages abused.
Human beings treated with unthinkable cruelty.

What has sickened and disgusted me almost as much is how quickly many people choose to question, dismiss, minimize, or politicize the suffering of the victims.

When did compassion become conditional?
When did we become so cynical?
When did rape and brutality become something people debate depending on who the victims are?

At the same time, Christians in parts of Nigeria and the Democratic Republic of the Congo continue to be brutally murdered because of their faith, often with far too little outrage from the world.

We should be able to mourn innocent Israelis attacked on October 7.
We should be able to mourn the innocent Palestinians in Gaza.
We should be able to mourn innocent Christians being slaughtered in Africa.

None of these tragedies erase the others.

Rape is evil.
Terrorism is evil.
The murder of innocent people is evil.

And watching human suffering become an argument instead of a moment for shared humanity is not only heartbreaking. It's sickening.

Today, I feel saddened, disgusted, and deeply troubled by what we are becoming as a world.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Mother’s Legacy: Remembering My Mother This Mother’s Day

Image
  Today, while sorting through old photographs and yellowed newspaper clippings, I came across my mother’s obituary. She has been gone for 22 years and yet, somehow, I still feel her presence. Obviously not in a way you can touch or see, but in the guidance that still appears when I need it most. It's in the lessons she taught without ever sitting us down for a formal lecture. It’s in the love that never really leaves us, even after someone is gone. Her obituary described her simply as a “homemaker.” Just one word. But anyone who has ever truly known a mother or grandmother understands that the word homemaker barely scratches the surface. Before marrying my father, my mother had an excellent career in publishing. She was intelligent, capable, organized, and professional long before those qualities were ever recognized in an obituary. Like many women of her generation, she stepped away from one career and unknowingly began another, one that would shape an entire family for...
Read more

When Connection Isn't Immediate

Image
  A place to sit with the day  This morning, I wrote about my yoga intention of being brave and taking a step forward.  Later in the day, I was reminded that sometimes that step doesn’t lead to where we expect.  There are moments in life when we reach out sincerely, simply hoping for connection and sometimes, nothing comes back right away. There’s a pause, a space that can feel larger than it really is.  In that space, it’s easy to start questioning ourselves.  Did I say the wrong thing? Was the timing off? Should I have done things differently? Our minds can play tricks on us and fill in the blanks far too quickly. But perhaps that space is not ours to carry. Perhaps it just is what it is. A moment that didn’t align. A response that didn’t come. A reminder that it’s not a reflection of our worth, but a reflection of timing, circumstance, or where someone else may be in their own life. So we remind ourselves that we can be kind, respectful, ...
Read more

Still Me

Image
  Yesterday I found myself thinking about the ten year old girl I used to be. Today my thoughts moved forward again into another stage of life and what love has meant along the way. It’s funny how our minds sometimes wander back to earlier chapters of our lives. Moments when everything felt new and full of possibility. Like springtime. There is a kind of ache or yearning that can come with those memories, and for the longest time I couldn’t quite name it. Maybe it is my age now but I think I figured it out. Sometimes the yearning we feel when we look back at earlier moments in our lives isn’t about another person at all. It’s about who we were when we were living in that moment. It’s about missing the version of ourselves who lived there. There was an innocence and openness in that time. A belief in possibilities that felt natural and unguarded. So it isn't always about missing another person. For me it's missing the young woman who believed so fully in what life and love mig...
Read more