By Lilli Segre
From time to time, during difficult discussions that bordered on the heated, Friends have quoted aloud Isaac Penington on tenderness: “Our life is love, and peace, and tenderness; and bearing one with another, and forgiving one another, and not laying accusations one against another; but praying one for another, and helping one another up with a tender hand.” And always at those times I have had to give serious thought to how I can live like that. Dictionaries say tenderness means gentleness and kindliness, and offer as synonyms compassion and benevolence. Tenderness is associated in particular with the ancient Greek term agápe, which Christians use to express God’s unconditional love; Thomas Aquinas said that “to love is to wish a person well” and equated it with charity, a virtue and an act of will.
The term “tender-minded” is defined both as “marked by idealism, optimism, and dogmatism” and as “easily affected emotionally by other people’s distress or by criticism.” Philosopher and teacher William James contrasted the tender-minded and the tough-minded as rationalistic vs. empiricist, idealistic vs. materialistic, religious vs. irreligious, and so on. He offered pragmatism as the “mediating way of thinking” that “can remain religious … but at the same time … preserve the richest intimacy with facts.” The Quakers seem to me to be generally pragmatic, by James’ definition.
It is a hallmark of parental love that it is both unconditional and paired with discipline and teaching. Drawing a parallel to that experience in my own life as both child and parent, I consider that when we “help one another up with a tender hand” we must reach that hand out from the firm foundation of our principles. When one of our community is in pain, we offer unconditional love and support. How do we maintain our tenderness when we disagree on way forward? Aquinas reminds us that agápe is an act of will; when differences arise, I must remind myself to love all the parties, and that I am tasked to at the same time to ensure that I “preserve my intimacy with” both the facts and our testimonies as I understand them. I must speak from that place, being vigilant to not slip from idealism to dogmatism. I must also listen from that place, and not assume that a different opinion is a criticism of my own or at odds with our testimonies. As Quakers, we are called to live by our testimonies as we individually experience and understand them. My understanding may differ from another’s and neither of us is “wrong.” Ultimately, agápe may mean that I stand aside, release my attachment to being right, and joyfully honor the sense of the meeting.
