Over the past few years, therapy words and phrases have had “a moment”—if you will—in public discourse. Terms like gaslighting, trauma, trigger, and mindfulness are some words that have shown up in conversations, social media, or in online content about mental health. While I’m glad that as a society we’re talking about mental health more in general and that therapy and medication are less stigmatized than they once were, I do think that we need to consider the definitions (both clinical and nonclinical) of specific words and phrases, as well as the contexts in which they apply.
One such term is self-compassion. I think this term can be misunderstood. We might think we’re “showing ourselves compassion” if we choose to avoid a difficult emotion or doing something that’s difficult for us. Or we might think we don’t “deserve” to show ourselves compassion because we made a mistake or willingly did something we knew was wrong. If we grew up in a church context where human depravity was emphasized and there was less focus on the Lord’s love for us, showing ourselves compassion may even feel like a “sin” or that we’re not truly aware or in touch with our sinful nature and need for a Savior.
Honestly, self-compassion has been a difficult practice for me for several reasons. My first response is to roll my eyes when I hear my therapist say I need to practice self-compassion. I think my brain does attach some flouncy, foo-foo meaning to the term. And I’m working through a belief I hold that only Jesus can show me compassion because I’m not worthy enough to show myself compassion. I tend to think that Jesus is the only one who is merciful and therefore, the only one who can show me compassion. Therefore, showing myself kindness is letting myself off the hook for my sin.
When I look into self-compassion, even from non-Christian sources, I’m forced to reflect further on this belief I hold. I’m starting to think that when I show myself compassion, I’m actually reflecting God’s love and mercy and compassion towards me. God wants my repentance and my turning from sin, of course. But I don’t think he requires self-flagellation, especially if he’s not scourging me himself. He doesn’t need to because he sent his Son to pay the ultimate price for all of our sin.
So what exactly is self-compassion? Dr. Kristin Neff, one of the foremost researchers in the field of self-compassion, defines compassion as the “recognition and clear seeing of suffering.” She writes that seeing suffering evokes feelings of kindness towards those who are suffering, creating a desire to help. Aundi Kolber, author of the book “Try Softer,” concurs with Neff’s definition in her own description: “compassion means to suffer with someone and then allow ourselves to be moved by that pain so we are motivated into action.” Neff adds that compassion also “involves recognizing our shared human condition, flawed and fragile as it is.” Self-compassion, then, includes the same qualities: “it requires that we stop to recognize our own suffering.”
We see so many examples throughout Scripture of Jesus’ compassion for others. But one passage that stands out in my mind is in John 11, when Jesus learns of his friend Lazarus’ death. In verse 4, he states that Lazarus’ sickness will not end in death, and delays his trip to visit him. The chapter describes how much Jesus loves Lazarus and his sisters, Mary and Martha, and reveals that Jesus knows Lazarus has died, even before he’s received official word. He makes plans to return to Judea, where Lazarus lives (and where the Jews had tried to stone him!). When he arrives, Mary and Martha make it clear that they’re not happy with him – if he had come sooner, he could’ve healed Lazarus and prevented him from dying. Despite their anger with him and despite Jesus already knowing that Lazarus is not going to stay dead, verse 33 tells us that when Jesus sees Mary weeping, he was “deeply moved in spirit and troubled.” In verse 38, again, we read that Jesus was “deeply moved.” Despite knowing that he was going to return Mary’s brother to her, he was still suffering with her in her suffering. This is the passage where we read the shortest verse in the bible, verse 35: “Jesus wept.”
Why should we show ourselves this compassion? In his book, “Worrying is Optional,” author Ben Eckstein cites several studies that list the benefits of practicing self-compassion: lower anxiety and depression (Brown et al. 2019); enhanced tolerance of uncertainty (Deniz 2021); improved emotional regulation (Finlay-Jones et al. 2015); help with stress (Yadavia, Hayes, and Vilardaga 2014); and greater life satisfaction (Neff 2003). Kolber writes that when we show ourselves compassion, our nervous system calms. Neff writes that when we “soothe our own pain,” we release oxytocin, the hormone of love of bonding, which plays an important role in social relationships. On the other hand, when we engage in self-criticism, our bodies read that as threat, triggering our fight or flight response, and our brain sends signals that increase blood pressure, adrenaline, and cortisol. Increased cortisol levels over time “lead to depression by depleting various neurotransmitters involved in the ability to experience pleasure.” (Neff 2011).
Why should Christians practice self-compassion? Kolber writes that a spirit of self-condemnation “contradicts the approach of our gracious, compassionate, and loving God. What if this intense dislike of ourselves is keeping us from embracing the truest thing about each of us—our belovedness?” She goes on to describe God’s pattern throughout human history of extending his kindness, compassion, and goodness to us. She writes:
“The Hebrew word checed appears often in Scripture and, according to Strong’s Lexicon, is most commonly translated as mercy, kindness, loving-kindness, and goodness. In the Old Testament, the term checed is used 248 times to describe this facet of God, as well as the way people relate to one another…this is not a fleeting aspect of God’s character but something He consistently displays.”
Clearly, God’s kindness, mercy, and compassion are integral parts of his character. We see that most profoundly in the sacrifice of his son so that we may live eternally with him. If we’re called to reflect God’s character, then I believe that includes the compassionate and kind parts of his character – kindness and compassion towards others, but also to ourselves.
How do we practice self-compassion? How can Christians practice it? In her book, “Self-Compassion,” Dr. Neff outlines three central components of self-compassion: self-kindness (rather than self-judgment), common humanity (as opposed to isolation), and mindfulness (rather than over-identification).
Dr. Neff describes self-kindness as a non-judgmental stance, or being “gentle and understanding with ourselves rather than harshly critical and judgmental.” At the time that I’m writing this, we’ve had what feels like the millionth day of snow. My daughter has missed several days of school, we’re all going a little stir crazy and we’ve exhausted my ideas for indoor activities. Despite knowing my children are just as stir crazy as I am, I find my patience with them wearing thin. I’m not attuned to them in the way I want to be and I find myself wondering about the next time I will be able to be alone (because as parents of young children know, even going to the bathroom doesn’t guarantee you alone time). It doesn’t take long for the automatic thoughts of “you’re a horrible mother – you don’t want to spend time with your kids?!” or “why did you even have kids if you don’t want to be around them?” kick in. Thankfully, I’ve had enough practice with these critical thoughts about parenting (as in, I’ve had A LOT of them, giving me plenty of material with which to practice!) that I can recognize them as fundamentally untrue. I can be gentle with myself, recognizing my need for a break, and understanding how exhausting it is to have less time alone, and higher demand to entertain my kids and help them cope with the emotions that come with being out of a routine.
Kolber poses the following in her book: “we know God feels tremendous compassion toward us. What if we let ourselves experience that compassion too?” A practical way we can practice self-kindness is to give ourselves a hug. I realize this may sound kooky, but when we do this, our brains release oxytocin, which as mentioned above, plays an important role in our relationships. Showing ourselves compassion sets us up to better show others compassion.
Neff’s second component of self-compassion is acknowledging our common humanity. She describes it as “feeling connected with others in the experience of life rather than feeling isolated and alienated by our suffering.” It can be hard to remember when we’re in the thick of a difficult situation, but we can feel less isolated when we remember that friends and loved ones also experience pain and suffering, even if that pain isn’t always apparent. Pain and suffering are not unique to us as individuals. We know from Scripture that pain is part of living in fallen and broken world. Jesus says in John 16:33: “I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
The third element of practicing self-compassion is mindfulness. When we practice mindfulness, we allow ourselves to feel emotions and observe our inner experiences. When we do this, we make space for these emotions and experiences without becoming immersed in them or gritting our teeth, just trying to survive. Kolber describes it as “doing something with what we now know without becoming overidentified with the experience.” And Neff adds that we “hold our experience in balanced awareness, rather than ignoring our pain or exaggerating it.”
One way we can practice self-compassion through mindfulness is doing a quick body check-in when we’re experiencing a difficult emotion. I’ve noticed that when I feel stressed or anxious, my jaw tightens and I feel as though I’m clenching my teeth. When I notice this tightening and clenching, instead of ignoring it and pushing through, I can stop and stretch my mouth open, softening my jaw, bringing my tongue to the roof of my mouth to put space in between my top and bottom teeth. It does not necessarily take away my anxiety or stress, but it’s a way I can allow my emotions to exist while caring for what I’m feeling in my body as well.
Some questions to consider as you observe your thoughts, feelings, and experiences with self-compassion:
- What comes to your mind when you think about showing yourself compassion?
- What beliefs do you hold about showing yourself compassion? That you don’t deserve it? That only the Lord can show compassion?
- Are you comparing your suffering to others’ suffering? Like you aren’t suffering “as bad” as they are so you don’t need to show yourself compassion?
References
Brown, S., M. Hughes, S. Campbell, and M. Cherry. 2020. “Could Worry and Rumination Mediate Relationships Between Self-Compassion and Psychological Distress in Breast Cancer Surivors?” Clinical Psychology & Psychotherapy 27(1): 1-10.
Deniz, M. 2021. “Self-Compassion, Intolerance of Uncertainty, Fear of COVID-19, and Well-Being: A Serial Mediation Investigation.” Personality and Individual Differences 177: 110824.
Eckstein, B. 2023. Worrying is Optional: Break the cycle of anxiety and rumination that keeps you stuck [eBook edition]. New Harbinger Publications.
Finlay-Jones, A., C. Rees, and R. Kane. 2015. “Self-Compassion, Emotional Regulation, and Stress Among Australian Psychologists: Testing an Emotion Regulation Model of Self-Compassion Using Structural Equation Modeling.” PLoS ONE 10(7): e0133481.
Neff, K. 2003. “The Development and Evaluation of a Scale to Measure Self-Compassion.” Self and Identity 2(3): 223-50.
Neff, K. 2011. Self-Compassion: The proven power of being kind to yourself. HarperCollins.
Yadavia, J., S. Hayes, and R. Vilardaga. 2014. “Using Acceptance and Commitment Therapy to Increase Self-Compassion: A Randomized Control Trial.” Journal of Contextual Behavioral Science 3(4): 248-57.
