IX

THE WISDOM AND COMPASSION OF LUKE SKYWALKER

“I am a Jedi, like my father before me.”

—LUKE SKYWALKER AND DARTH VADER IN RETURN OF THE JEDI

The Dharma Path, in some ways like the way of the Jedi, is a path of understanding and love. When the Path is walked, these two great qualities of humankind are developed: wisdom (also called understanding) and compassion (also called love).

Wisdom develops from careful observation of our nature and the nature of life. Wisdom is the fruit of meditation (like the calm insight Yoda discussed with Luke), mindfulness (as Qui-Gon and Mace Windu taught), and diligent effort (like the deep commitment and serious mind of a Jedi). Wisdom is the insight of the way things are that frees us from the shroud of the dark side.

But we must cultivate compassion as well. Anakin said compassion “is central to a Jedi’s life.” The same is true for Buddhists. Compassion has a special meaning in Buddhism. It’s the aspiration and strength to relieve the suffering and sorrow of another.

Unless wisdom and compassion are cultivated equally, imbalance can arise. Perhaps not an imbalance in the Force, but an imbalance in yourself. Compassion developed without wisdom can produce a kind-hearted fool like Jar Jar Binks; while a strong mind developed without compassion can produce a heartless manipulator like Jabba the Hutt.

In Star Wars it is Luke Skywalker in the saga’s sixth chapter that best exemplifies the right balance of wisdom and compassion.

After his confrontation with Darth Vader in The Empire Strikes Back, Luke knows good still remains in his father. Obi-Wan, however, seems caught by the view that Vader is “more machine than man, twisted and evil.” He urges Luke to “confront” Vader and kill him. Obi-Wan apparently fails to recognize that Vader’s destiny isn’t frozen in carbonite—he can still choose to turn away from evil. Luke believes Vader can make this choice.

Compassion is the intention to relieve someone’s suffering, including their delusion, insecurity, and hatred.

In Return of the Jedi Luke’s wisdom and compassion propel him to turn himself over to the Empire in order to rescue his father. He tells Leia, “There is good in him. I felt it. He won’t turn me over to the Emperor. I can save him. I can turn him back to the good side. I have to try.” Luke allows himself to be made a prisoner of the Empire in order to “save” Vader, to draw his father out of suffering. Offering understanding and compassion, Luke appeals to the good Anakin that remained in the shadows of Darth Vader. Reminding him of his life before he turned to evil, Luke says, “You were once Anakin Skywalker, my father.” “That name,” Vader replies, “no longer has any meaning for me.”

“It is the name of your true self,” Luke says. “You’ve only forgotten. I know there is good in you. The Emperor hasn’t driven it from you fully.” Then Luke directs his father back to himself, to look deeply into his own nature: “Search your feelings, Father… I feel the conflict within you. Let go of your hate”—for it is Vader’s hatred, hatred for himself, his failures, among other things, that create the dark side.

It’s important we see in this that even Luke Skywalker, with his great mastery of the Jedi ways, of understanding and compassion, cannot with his own power “turn” Vader away from the path of the dark side. This is always the case. We can only offer others compassionate support and wise advice, but only they themselves can remove the shroud of ignorance from their heart and mind. Luke does not tell Vader what he should or should not do, he simply directs Vader back to himself, to search his own feelings, to investigate his own mind and discover the truth that it is not “too late” for him, that he can still lift himself out of the dark side. This is the Jedi way, and it is also the Dharma way.

In fairness to Obi-Wan, he may have believed encouraging Luke to kill his father was the only way to protect the galaxy from further pain and destruction. Or he could have foreseen how Luke’s compassion for his father could turn Anakin back to the destiny of the chosen one and bring balance to the Force. Obi-Wan actually knew a thing or two about compassion.

In a scene cut from the end of Revenge of the Sith, Qui-Gon Jinn returns as an ethereal voice to train Yoda (and later Obi-Wan) to merge with the Force upon death—to become, as Obi-Wan warned Vader, “more powerful than you can possibly imagine.” Qui-Gon explains that this ability is achieved “through compassion,” with “no thought of self.”

Obi-Wan learned this art while he was in his crazy-hermit phase on Tatooine. And he put it to use during his “damn-fool” period in A New Hope, when he allowed Vader to cut him down. This power was what Palpatine promised Anakin. It’s the power of immortality, but, as Qui-Gon points out, it cannot be achieved through greed or selfishness. The Sith could never learn it.

True compassion, true love never produces suffering. We do not grant it only to those who satisfy our desires, nor reserve it for the happy and prosperous. Real compassion and love are given to everyone, unconditionally. Luke is able to have compassion for his father because he sees how easily he could follow in Anakin’s footsteps and succumb to the dark side. Luke recognizes how close he is to a similar fate and sees himself in his father. Luke also has the wisdom to recognize the source of his father’s evil. That source was not Vader himself, but Vader’s ignorance, attachments, misperceptions, self-hate, and his inability to see a way off his karmic path of the dark side.

There is no more compassionate act one person can do for another than offer oneself in order to free another from misery. But even Luke’s profound understanding and love falters in the bowels of the Death Star:

Time and time again Luke tries to escape from dueling Vader. He shuts off his lightsaber, he retreats from Vader’s attack, and he even hides in order to avoid conflict. However, when Vader threatens Luke’s sister, Leia, the young Jedi’s composure weakens and in a fury he assaults his father.

Luke charges Vader, besieging him with a flurry of windmill strikes that drive him to the ground. Radiating hate like the white-hot heat of a thousand binary suns, Luke hammers away until his saber slips past his father’s defense. Schink. Green plasma severs Vader’s wrist.

“Good!” cheers the Emperor, gliding in like a vulture sensing blood. “Your hate has made you powerful. Now, fulfill your destiny and take your father’s place at my side!”

In this moment, Luke sees that, just like his father, he has become ensnared by hate. Looking at Vader’s mechanical stump of an arm, then at his own mechanical, black-gloved hand, Luke realizes he has indeed become like his father. If Luke kills Vader he will not destroy the evil of Anakin Skywalker but only replace it with a new evil—the evil of Luke Skywalker. The failures of Anakin, the weakness of that misguided man, are part of Luke as well. Luke understands the truth that the evil in his father is also in him. It was an evil grounded in misguided intentions, mistaken betrayal, arrogance, ignorance, fear, and self-hate. Realizing this removes Darth Vader’s sinister appearance and reveals a sad, pitiable man—a man trapped by his own suffering. Looking down at his prone father, compassion swells in Luke’s heart, and he switches off his lightsaber.

“Never!” he says tossing his weapon aside. “I’ll never turn to the dark side.”

Luke at this moment does what his father could not do, he transforms suffering. His wisdom parts the shroud of ignorance and shows him that the dark side cannot give him power to “rule the galaxy” or to “save his friends,” it can only lead to the misery his father suffered. Recognizing this, his hate disappears, and he says, “I’ll never turn to the dark side.” Armed now with only wisdom and compassion he does something no weapon can ever do—he defeats the hate in his heart.

Luke’s actions show us when you look at the face of evil and hatred, you see fear just below the surface. Luke met his fear on Dagobah and he confronted his hate just moments before. He discarded both along with his saber. Facing the Emperor he declares, “I am a Jedi, like my father before me.”

The strength of Luke comes from allowing himself to be vulnerable. He doesn’t deny fear, hatred, or suffering. He doesn’t allow them to overwhelm him. He meets them with the fearlessness of a true Jedi.

Fear, hatred, and suffering are natural. They’re only a problem when we don’t have the space within us to allow them to be present. When we do, there’s nothing to fear. They come and go—and we see them for what they are. We can’t know compassion without suffering. We can’t know love without hatred. We may want to destroy Darth Vader but without him we can never be true Jedi. Don’t run from your suffering. Don’t bludgeon it with mental lightsabers. Allow it to be, embrace it in compassion—but don’t let it consume you. Then you will defeat it as Luke did.

In the Star Wars saga, balance is brought to the Force when Vader defeats the Emperor and removes the plague of the dark side from the galaxy. But the true balance, inner balance, comes earlier: when Vader finally sees the other side of fear and hatred is freedom and love. Anakin may have told Luke that he “saved” him, but it is Anakin’s own choice to finally face the dark side within him with courage and honesty that frees him from it. To be in the grips of suffering is to be out of balance, but the practice of meditation brings harmony to the Force and reveals the presence of nirvana. The happiness of this practice is the happiness that is content (but never complacent) to suffer.

While Luke Skywalker best exemplifies the qualities of wisdom and compassion in Star Wars, it is his father, Anakin, who shows us the full range of what it is to be human. Anakin goes from a sweet kid to an arrogant, temperamental young man, to a monster cloaked in the dark side. In his life, he loved people, at times he hated himself, he sought the approval of his teachers, he selflessly tried to help others, he made mistakes, and he committed the most unspeakable crimes. But in the end he finds freedom from the dark side.

Many of us carry the burden of self-hatred. We note our failings, weaknesses, prejudices, and all our other ugly qualities and think, “I am no good; I’m a liar, a fake. I speak harshly to people and think cruel thoughts of my friends and family. I’m a loser and a failure in everything I do.” We think the way of wisdom and compassion and the practice of mindfulness are beyond us because there is so much hatred, anger, and fear in our heart. We have become so trapped in the darkness of our own suffering and delusion that we fail to see the light of peace, joy, and freedom available to us right now.

Yet the lesson of Anakin’s experience teaches us that everyone, even the most wicked, has the seed of liberation in his heart. That seed is waiting for us to help it grow. We can help it grow right now by learning to stop. Literally stop what you’re doing and find your breath. Stay with your breath and allow the poisonous stream of negative thinking that judges you and demands perfection to prattle away. You are right where you need to be. You are home. Your self-loathing and destructive thinking are just habits. Thoughts are no more real than nightmares. At this moment you are perfectly complete. Take time each day to stop and you’ll discover that freedom is always available. This freedom is your birthright.

If Darth Vader can find freedom then each of us can too.