With Compassion

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are— yet he did not sin.” Hebrews 4:15 (NIV)

Our world groans under the weight of suffering. Every headline is a testament to the fallenness of humanity: death, disease, hunger, violence, war. And yet, this brokenness isn’t just an abstract concept. It’s personal. It’s painfully real. Even believers can find themselves wanting to escape, retreating from the harshness of reality. But here’s the thing: if we’re not careful, our hearts can become numb. We get so used to the pain around us that, like the priest and the Levite in the Good Samaritan story, we start walking right past those who desperately need our help.

However, if our hearts are filled with sincere love for God and people, we cannot turn a blind eye to those who are grieving and in need. A fleeting feeling of pity won’t be enough if it quickly disappears amidst our own worries and distractions. True compassion aches in our hearts, so deeply that we cannot simply sit by and watch from a distance.

God has invited us to a higher purpose. When the love of Jesus resides within us, we can’t be content with fleeting sympathy. True compassion stirs our hearts so intensely that we are driven to take action.

Why did Jesus heal the blind men, the demon-possessed, the crippled? Why did He pour Himself out for the weary and the helpless? The answer is found in Matthew 9:36: “When He saw the crowds, He had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” (ESV) Jesus’ heart broke because He saw the depths of human need, the devastation sin has caused, and His compassion wasn’t fleeting; it was fierce and active.

Consider Jesus’ response to the bent woman in Luke 13:10-19. A synagogue leader obsessed with Sabbath laws rebuked Jesus for healing on the Sabbath. But Jesus saw this woman not as a theological inconvenience but as a daughter of Abraham, bound by Satan for eighteen years. He called her to Himself, healed her, and in doing so, shattered the cold religiosity of His critics. This is what it means to be moved by compassion: to see beyond the outward and behold the worth of every soul made in the image of God.

Think of the leper in Mark. By law, lepers were outcasts—untouchable and forgotten. Yet, although Jesus could have healed him with just a word, He chose to reach out and touch him, defying the social and religious taboos that required lepers to remain isolated (Leviticus 13:45-46, 22:4). Moved by love and mercy, Jesus’ touch communicated acceptance and unconditional love.

Even in His own grief, Jesus couldn’t turn away from people’s needs. After hearing of John the Baptist’s death, He wanted to mourn in solitude, but the crowds followed Him. Instead of sending them away, He healed their sick. The glory of Christ is not that He avoided pain but that He entered into it.

Jesus’ compassion wasn’t selective. He ate with tax collectors and sinners, and it scandalized the religious establishment. But Jesus knew that a healer belongs with the sick, not the healthy.

And what about us? How do we respond to the wounded souls around us? How do we view those who are broken, lost, and sinful? Our compassion must be rooted in the grace of God. The cross shows us that true compassion costs something. It’s inconvenient. It’s painful. But, oh, how it magnifies the worth of Christ! To love like Jesus loved means to set aside our comforts and plans, to live with eyes wide open to the needs around us, and to pour ourselves out for the glory of His name.

Compassion has the power to connect us, to bridge gaps and heal wounds. It moves us beyond words into action. Jesus showed us the greatest example: He became one of us (John 1:14). He understands our struggles and our weaknesses and stands with us. And through His strength, we can comfort others as we have been comforted (2 Corinthians 1:4-5).

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 (ESV)

“Lord, thank You for Your compassion and unconditional love for me. Without You, there is no life. I know You seek out the broken and the rejected, and I want to do the same. Open my eyes, ears, and heart to see the needs around me. Lead me to specific people who need Your love. Help me to be Your hands and feet, bringing hope and healing wherever I go. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”