The Art of Empathy: An Exploration of Friendship in the Face of Fear

Lucy Jarasius | Tuesday, 5th July 2016

Fear. Threat. Grace. Friend.

What pictures come to mind when you read or say those words? What feelings are evoked?

The first two words are largely antonymous to the second two.

Fear, Threat. I imagine a person with a malign, hardened facial expression devoid of the look of curiosity… behind which lurks a closed mind, negatively hosting hostility, manufacturing mental barbed wire, a fence designed to keep the “other” out.

Grace, Friend. I imagine a person with a benign, softened facial expression, open to explore possibilities… gratitude, perhaps, opening the way for an opportunity to connect on a positive note, hosting hospitality through a mind portal open to inviting the “other” in.

The second scenario does not necessarily imply a blindness or insensitivity to danger, but is definitely more likely to lead to a moment of mutual appreciation with potential for mutually beneficial interaction, tangible or intangible in nature, and perhaps even meaningful cooperation for future common good.

In the biblical accounts of creation in Genesis 1 and 2 we sense a world of possibility for fruitfulness and perpetual interconnectedness through what could be described as a gracious friendship, a picture of good health, a life-giving, life-enhancing quality to the portraiture of the created order — cycles of nature, plant and animal life thriving, along with human beings amongst them.

However, as we are well aware, something went awry. Fear and threat replaced grace and wonder in the friendly countenance of creation. It is not my purpose in this article to analyse the details of this change, to wax theological about its occurrence and implications, but rather to posit that aboriginally, things were good and friendly and that since the demise, there is a way for us who live in corruption’s aftermath, to return to a healthy way of living in relationship to one another and the creation at large. We can, through the Creator’s provided avenue of reconciliation, namely the Way of Christ and the work of the Holy Spirit, become recreated for common good.

Being open to participate in our God’s perpetual cosmic art installation, which I see largely as a Portrait of Grace, places us well on the journey of discipleship as friends of Jesus. Not merely servant-like, but truly transformed and enabled participants in the work of reconciliation (spiritual, physical, enviro-human-relational and cosmic, in scope), casting out fear through love, countering threat via gracious acts, in recognition of our shared created-ness instead of instigating and perpetuating acts of violence in capitulation to feelings of threat and insecurity. Our electronic communication devices seem constantly congested with reports of religious, racial, commercial and/or environmental conflict. Compete, dominate, annihilate mantra the media, composting our baser desires toward a harvest of horror. Too few are narratives that cultivate our latent abilities to empathise and build a better future together.

Research in the contemporary field of neuroscience reveals interesting findings in relation to fear, threat, friend and foe.[1]

To the human brain, me is we:

A threat to ourselves is a threat to our resources…Threats can take things away from us. But when we develop friendships, people we can trust and rely on who in essence become we, then our resources are expanded, we gain. Your goal becomes my goal. It’s a part of our survivability.

…we are wired to “sync” with others, and the more we sync (the more psycho-emotionally we connect), the less our brains acknowledge self-other distinctions.[2]

So, it’s already centred within us, God-imaged, God-breathed, this ability to “sync” with the “other”, to connect positively with fellow human beings — an ability which may be waiting to be discovered, recognised and activated, on a daily basis, to displace fear and threat with grace and friend.

It can happen anytime, anywhere, really. Look out for it. You may unexpectedly behold the divine image in the face of an “other” and experience the community of “one another”. It could become a habit and transform your whole scape of things to come.


The following poem I wrote connects points I have raised in this article with some Scripture passages which provided inspiration (quotes are from The Message translation, except the last, which is from the Amplified Bible)

GEN 1:26
God spoke: “Let us make human beings in our image, make them reflecting our nature…”

GEN 2:7
God formed Man out of dirt from the ground and blew into his nostrils the breath of life. The Man came alive—a living soul!

2 COR 5:14–20
Our firm decision is to work from this focused center: One man died for everyone. That puts everyone in the same boat. He included everyone in his death so that everyone could also be included in his life, a resurrection life, a far better life than people ever lived on their own.

Because of this decision we don’t evaluate people by what they have or how they look. We looked at the Messiah that way once and got it all wrong, as you know. We certainly don’t look at him that way anymore. Now we look inside, and what we see is that anyone united with the Messiah gets a fresh start, is created new. The old life is gone; a new life burgeons! Look at it! All this comes from the God who settled the relationship between us and him, and then called us to settle our relationships with each other. God put the world square with himself through the Messiah, giving the world a fresh start by offering forgiveness of sins. God has given us the task of telling everyone what he is doing. We’re Christ’s representatives. God uses us to persuade men and women to drop their differences and enter into God’s work of making things right between them. We’re speaking for Christ himself now: Become friends with God; he’s already a friend with you.

JOHN 15:14–15
You are my friends when you do the things I command you. I’m no longer calling you servants because servants don’t understand what their master is thinking and planning. No, I’ve named you friends because I’ve let you in on everything I’ve heard from the Father.

EPH 2:10
For we are His workmanship [His own master work, a work of art], created in Christ Jesus [reborn from above—spiritually transformed, renewed, ready to be used] for good works…”

PORTRAIT of GRACE
© 2016 Lucy Jarasius

Nano-bot on a mission, scouring corporeal reality
vainly searching for something
of certitude
coronary veracity
birthplace of fear or prayer-prepped capacity?

Today, I beheld the image of God in a Hindu man
We had a heart-to-heart in a cab inching through the city traffic jam
Conversed about gods and goddesses, cycles of anxious appeasement
Of prayers answered, of prayers immanent, of prayers desirous, of spiritual “achievement”
Of faithfulness, of peace, of many things amazing

of another Race,
He graced me with his time, his conversation,
For those few brief moments
a quick snapshot of his faith-life
a man on a quest, not so much different to mine
Actually
made of the same stuff
dirt and breath
earth made
dirt and breath
soil structured
dirt and breath
land formed

Is only mine impressed, stamped, infused, blessed with image divine?

We shared something sweet
something precious though fleeting
just for an instant
a picture of how things could be
strangers whose paths crossed
whose lives intersected
caught in conversation
spirit led and directed
surprise visitation, profoundly reaching through Commonplace situation
but isn’t that just like the impossibly incarnate deity?!
breaking into our monochrome world of mundane reality
with shafts of light, splashes of colour
catching us off guard, off duty, bouncing off anything, refracting congruity

Today, I beheld the image of God in a Hindu man
something whispered, something sang, something in my spirit resonated, Echoed, rang
I recognised the swish, the brushstroke of The Creator
I heard it
I saw it
I walked through a portal, surely immortal
Not searching, I found myself live-painted, whilst glimpsing a Portrait of Grace!


[1] http://scan.oxfordjournals.org/content/8/6/670.full’. Further information is available by contacting K Events who provide specialist professional development to psychologists, counsellors and social workers: http://kevents.com.au/.
[2] http://scan.oxfordjournals.org/content/8/6/670.full’.


Lucy Jarasius currently resides in Sydney with her husband, Andrew Park. She works for Salvos Counselling, and is the Asia Pacific Connection for the International Christian Dance Fellowship, which she coordinated for nine years (1997–2006). Lucy also runs sessions/workshops for people to experience and explore arts, faith and culture in relation to peace-building and mission.

Poetry as Learning and Unlearning

Lucy Jarasius | Monday, 4th May 2015

My experience of poetry involves patterns — thinking patterns, word patterns, moving patterns.

There seems to be a connection and a flow of informative energy as the mental concepts, descriptive word groupings, and somatic sequences take shape. Generally this comes as a fast-flowing process of mental pictures and word combinations that I am not expecting. It is as if the words and phrases arrive in my mind marrying ideas and images not previously consciously acknowledged as “connected”. The metaphor of “joining the dots” expresses something of the process. The usual meanings of words and habitual constructions of concepts are challenged and rearranged, bringing new realisations, fresh understandings and expanded knowledge. This I find an incredibly interesting creative stimulus.

Through the writing of poetry and subsequent performance of it, I have found that I learn new things. Sometimes this involves bypassing or deconstructing previously learned ways of perceiving and doing things, though at other times prior knowledge provides a helpful foundation. Poetry, for me, has become a new avenue through which I can become more intimately and holistically acquainted with things that are important in my experience of spirituality. Poetry has also become a portal of beauty through which I walk my Christian faith, navigating life in the midst of today’s complex and often violent world. Quote Block Jarasius1 Because I choreograph movement to further express and explore the concepts in many of my poems, another dimension comes into my emerging-pattern picture. A deep intensification occurs in the “dot-joining” exercise. Perhaps this is a result of mind and body working together, informing each other through their respective and unique dynamics. At times, I experiment with other artforms in conjunction with poetry, such as music, song, film, visual art etc. Sounds a bit endless, I know, but there is a lot of joy to be experienced through humble beginnings, and most of my performance poetry is just that!


Some recent traumatic events in my family caused me to ponder perceptions about relationships, about “relatedness” in terms of genetic or “blood” relationships, and about how much easier it is to perform violence in a context where “the other” is objectified, dehumanised, perhaps even “demonised”.

Around the same time I saw the Russell Crowe film, The Water Diviner, a powerful Australian story about family, relatedness, and “embracing the enemy”, set in World War One.

I was a little stunned to hear some very familiar music in the background, as scenes of the gory battlefield unfolded. One example was the track Newton’s Cradle from Ludovico Einaudi’s album In a Time Lapse, which was featured during the battle scene in The Water Diviner. One of my own recent works — a poem exploring narcissism and violence and accompanied by choreography — featured the same track, and it was somewhat surreal, but oddly satisfying, to find a connection between my “creative intercessions” and a movie well worth watching.

At this time, as ANZAC themes are revisited, this year being the centenary of one of the most well-known military campaigns in our history, I invite you to read through the following poem several times whilst listening to Newton’s Cradle. [Listen here] I pray some connections are made, some things may be learned — as well as unlearned — some inspiration comes, and some love flows.

Who is my sister? ©Lucy Jarasius 2015

who is my sister?
my brother, my mother, my father?

in law
break the law out of its alien trends
that wends its friends to non-neighbourly hard margins
barging over lines drawn in the sands quick-to-judge
parched, stiff-sniffing
dividing
un-divining refreshment below the surface

there is something thicker than water
it flows
And knows
And grows
…when the trials arrive

bLOod
flows
thin-spilling, yet congealing
knows no bounds to the pain
as it cries up from the ground
grows cold

…thicker than water?
blood?

mayhaps something flows from another stream
sourcing from realm faith-divined
undividing
me-and-’er-ing into the wide estuary of humanity adrift on a sea of despair
body of water
known through bucketing too-many-to-list tears
grown, message unbottled, filling an ocean of spent emotion
when The Trial arrived

something knows
how to quench the pleading thirst in the eyes of the lonely
how to quell the rising tide violent
how to quest heal-bent relentlessly, life-threatened-midst creatively
the best yet to come, believing relatedly
never really too belatedly

something grows
when emptied
when giVEn
when chosen
by the living
no matter the hurt, the pain, the imagined loss gained
when the trials come
…when they don’t

there is something thicker than water!


Lucy Jarasius currently resides in Sydney with her husband, Andrew Park. She works for Salvos Counselling, and is the Asia Pacific Connection for the International Christian Dance Fellowship, which she coordinated for nine years (1997–2006). Lucy also runs sessions/workshops for people to experience and explore arts, faith and culture in relation to peace-building and mission.