I can count three people I know who I would describe as gentle people. Sadly, I am not one of them. Gentleness is a rare virtue in a society that prices toughness competition and celebrates brutality, greed, anger, and cruelty.

My gentle friends stand out; they are quiet and soft and slower than the rest of the world. They are also more thoughtful and sensitive. They are good listeners. They are healing and uplifting. They are rare.

From our earliest days, we are encouraged to get things done, earn money, speak up,  be competitive and selfish,  successful even if it runs over people, discards them, ignores their needs, or harms them.

That is the corporate and political ethos that is dominant in our culture. I freely admit that this was my way when I had power over people. Nobody in my world had much respect for gentleness. I was told I needed to be tough to survive. But I was never tough enough.

I don’t know any politicians who survive being gentle in our system.

I never see or hear gentleness promoted as a goal or a value.

The cost for all this success and emphasis on money and success is high, I first saw that when I worked for CBS News, and I saw it again in my own life and the people around me. Money, cruelty, anger, and self-service do not make people happy or provide meaning or peace to life.

Outside of the spiritual world, I can’t think of a place in our society where gentleness is rewarded. And even there, gentleness seems to be out of favor, in decline. A priest I know says there is as much politicking in the Vatican as there is in Congress.

I’m not sure what it means to be a Christian any longer, and the spiritual world is not, in many ways, a peaceful place in 2022. I found gentleness in Quaker Meeting, but few people become Quakers.

Matthew 12:20 describes gentle people as the ones who do “not break the crushed reed, or snuff the faltering wick.” Henri Nouwen says, “gentle is the one who is attentive to the strengths and weaknesses of others and who enjoys being together with others more than he or she enjoys achieving things.”

Pastor and author Max Lucado wrote: “I choose gentleness… Nothing is won by force. I choose to be gentle. If I raise my voice, may it be only in praise. If I clench my fist, may it be only in prayer. If I make a demand, may it be only of myself.”

For me, easier said than gone.

I’ve been on a spiritual path for a long time now, and I have come to see spirituality as something to aspire to, something that makes me better. I can be better, but I can never get there fully. I can be more gentle if I work at it.

I know now that the reward of spirituality comes from searching, not for succeeding.

I understand the importance of gentleness, and once in a while, even “getting dressed in gentleness.”

A gentle person in my mind speaks softly, treads lightly, listens carefully, looks tenderly, and touches almost reverently. These are my ideas about gentleness, yet I do very few of these things consistently or continuously. I do some of them some of the time.

A gentle person understands that growth, health, and peace of mind require nurture and understanding, not force, bullying, or domination. A gentle person could never survive in politics or the corporate world in modern America.

A gentle person is rarely, if ever, on television or in the news or the subject of a movie. Peaceful people don’t build mega-mansions, lay off thousands of people, or run for Congress.

I give lip service to gentleness, but I know I am not a gentle person; this was never taught me as an essential quality, quite the opposite; I was always warned to be stern and forceful if I wanted to accomplish anything in my life. That was also what I learned to protect myself and move forward in my life.

No one in my early life ever mentioned gentleness or urged me on to a peaceful life.

The spiritual scholars often write that gentleness is remembering the presence of one’s God among us, whatever form that God takes. In a sense, that is what the spiritual life is supposed to be about. But how many people do I know who remembers that?

Nouwen writes of being “Dressed In Gentleness,” and it has stuck in my mind ever since I read this phrase. There are many benefits to getting older. We get weaker, more understanding, and less powerful as we age. That is a natural form of gentleness all by itself.

Age takes away and gives. Sometimes, I have no choice but to be quiet and gentle, which is a way of learning how to do it.

In my meditation quiet hour today, I thought about the importance of gentleness, how soft and subtle and healthy it can be.

A gentle person speaks softly, treads lightly, listens carefully. That’s what I thought.