When The Hills Flow With Wine

I was moved by Kent Annan’s struggle with the limits of compassion in his essay “When the Hills Flow with Wine” [September 2003]. I recognize in his words my own anguished attempts to come to terms with the world’s suffering.

Annan’s frustration and despair at his inability to make the world over into the comfortable place he knows in the U.S. is the despair of the survivor who, after the battle, the plane crash, the earthquake, cries out, “Why them and not me?” There can never be an answer to this plea. That ache is our suffering. Annan’s resolve to stare back into the face of death and suffering is the correct response. All that is wanting is acceptance of the burden.

When Mother Teresa was asked why, in the face of overwhelming odds, she continued to attempt to relieve suffering, she replied, “God does not ask us to succeed. God asks us to try.” The Buddhists say something similar, but speak of not being attached to the results of your effort. It’s all in the doing. To desire to rid the world of that which upsets us is ultimately an egotistical desire to control what is beyond us. Accepting and immersing ourselves in the world’s pain, as Annan does, is compassion.

I would council him, though, not to cast away joy. When I visited the Dominican Republic, I was amazed at how joyful the people were in the midst of incredible poverty. I had expected them to be depressed and waiting to die. I am not trying to sugarcoat poverty, but merely point out that it does not exclude joy, and neither should we.

If the Buddhists are correct that we choose the circumstances of each incarnation, then the world’s suffering people demonstrate immense courage, the courage to bear pain, in order to teach us something. We need the courage to keep our hearts open and to pay attention.