Compassion without action is merely sympathy, or even empathy.
I had an experience as a young occupational therapist that shaped me from that point forward and changed my understanding of compassion. I was working with a young boy, about age 12, and this boy had been horribly abused by his biological parents. I’ll call him Matt. He had significant delays and it was never determined if the delays preceded the abuse, or if the delays had come because of the abuse. In either case, it was a terrible thing to think about, and my heart was tender for him as we worked together. I was working with him on identifying letters, because one of the goals of his adoptive mother was that he would be able to recognize simple signs such as bathroom signs, to promote his independence in the community as he got older.
This was in an outpatient setting in a large, growing hospital, and there was construction work going on constantly. As we sat on the floor in the treatment room, with the activity in front of us, I found myself praying silently, in a kind of “crisis-of-faith moment,”
“Lord, how could you let this happen to this sweet child? Where were you?”
Then I heard these words, not audibly, but in my thoughts,
“If no one ever had a need, how would you learn compassion?”
That settled over me for a moment.
In the following seconds, there was a very loud and startling crash on the floor above. It sounded like the ceiling was going to fall down around us. Instinctively, my “Mama arm” went out to protect him, but then I realized that it was construction work on the floor above. I said to Matt, “Oh, they’re just doing work upstairs.” He looked at me and smiled and said, “It’s ok, Jesus will protect us.” How did he know that? His sentences were never that complex, but somehow that truth was in his heart and mind, and he was able to articulate it.
I looked at him and my eyes filled with tears; I realized in that moment that he might never have the skills that others do, but that he was ok. He knew Jesus loved him. And that was more important than whether or not he could do my little activity. “How many go through life, not ever knowing that?” I thought.
But he did.
Not long after, I heard a message about Compassion. The pastor said the ultimate act of compassion was the cross – that compassion always leads us to action. That was a full circle moment for me.
I don’t pretend to have all the answers, or to know all the reasons why bad things happen, but I do know what I believe God taught me that day – that “compassion” is one of the primary things God wants to teach us while we are on this earth, and that meeting the needs of others gives us an opportunity to learn it more completely.
Compassion is more than mere platitudes or feel-good one-liners on Facebook.
Compassion calls us to action.
Sympathy says, “I’ll pray for you.”
Compassion says, “Let’s bow our heads and let me pray with you right now.”
Sympathy says, “Let me know if you need anything.”
Compassion says, “I want to bring you a meal. What day is good?”
Empathy cries big tears and says, “I know just how you feel.”
Compassion says, “I’ll sit here with you, and you can talk or just be quiet. But I am here.”
The ultimate act of Compassion went all the way to Calvary, and gave all there was to give.
Lord, teach us.
We will follow You.
