Apparently, there are 31,102 verses in 66 books that comprise the entire Bible, both Old and New Testaments.

The shortest verse has only two words and will serve as a basis for this reflection.

Jesus Wept.

* * * * *

I’ve had many conversations with respect to the theme in this title. My motivation today to write about compassion and empathy probably comes from several interactions over the last several days but it’s certainly a recurring one, so here goes.

There are way too many people in our culture who are, principally, self-centered. I say, principally, because all of us are self-centered to some degree. We seek what we want and that pursuit defines so much in our lives.

However, in this era of moral relativism, where the catch phrase, “my truth,” predominates, the laser focus is to elevate “my” needs considerably above the needs of others. Who is to say what truth or beauty or goodness actually are? The explosion of social media seems to have spread this contagion deeply into the consciousness of vast swaths of our society. Look at me! See how important and significant I am! Narcissism (pathologic elevation of self over anything and anyone else) abounds.

Is there an antidote?

Fortunately, there are so many people whose lives are ordered differently. I meet them everywhere.

When I interact with individuals for the first time, I frequently ask them what they like about their jobs. As most of these people are in some kind of “serving” profession, be they servers of food and drink or caregivers in doctors’ offices, clinics and hospitals, or crew on a cruise ship, or teachers and coaches at my former school, they invariably say some form of “it’s the people.”

To them, yes, they know they are held accountable for doing their job, performing well, but there is something about the relationships they develop, whether for the briefest or the longest spans of time, that feed them as they feed others.

Which brings me to this theme.

The concepts of compassion and empathy are closely related but not identical. In practical terms, I define them as follows:

Compassion is recognizing the brokenness in another and become willing to assist them in some way to relieve the pain. Compassion comes from an innate “caring” head and heart. But it goes beyond that thought or feeling and compels one to act. It involves an overt act of will.

Empathy is a bit different. To me, empathy is not just recognizing the brokenness in another but actually “feeling” that pain. To empathize is to share that pain in some measure. I “feel” the grief of another. I sob alongside the other person because I can’t help it. It’s not that I feel sorry for them (maybe closer to compassion) but it’s as if the event is actually happening to me.

Many people are compassionate by nature (fortunately!) but not all are what we can call “empaths.” 

When God took the scales from my eyes in the fraction of a moment on the evening of March 26, 2005, he then told and showed me that I had always belonged to him, even from the womb. That he was beside me through every event in my life. It is hard to describe everything that happened in the course of seconds or a few minutes but the veil between this world and his world was lifted and I could actually “see” the course of my life and know who he is and who I am in relation to him.

With this profound knowledge and in the months and years since then, I’ve been able to dissect many elements of my character and the values that form my life. 

Perhaps because I have faced suffering (many lifelong health challenges that would have killed me had I been born fifty years earlier) and I was raised with the lesson that I should always look out for those who could not help themselves, it seems I’ve lived with some semblance of compassion throughout my memory. This was not always the case, and I regret so much of my past behavior, but (and I see it now as God’s providence) there seems to have been an undercurrent going way back.

For some reason, and I can’t pinpoint a time when this became evident, I found myself responding to the pain or grief in someone else as if its source came from inside of me. There are moments when I choke up as another chokes up. As a high school principal, I was around a lot of suffering … from multiple suicides cascading across one of my campuses to the victims of extreme violence or other forms of suffering, it was a challenge to lead through those feelings as I was looked to for support and guidance. I imagine it’s similarly hard for some in the helping professions who are empaths … caregivers, therapists, teachers … and some kinds of boundaries or conscious separation has to occur to maintain sanity.

I don’t have the room here to recount everything about the most extreme experience of this in my life … I included it in my autobiography … suffice to say that I asked that the massive grief of a dear friend who had just lost his twenty-something daughter to anorexia and who stepped to the podium at the service in order to speak … that I could take his pain upon me so as to allow him to talk. And I was struck physically so hard  and deeply in an instant that I was rocked in my seat and felt I couldn’t breathe. My friend spoke with strength and compassion.

Back to Jesus.

Like most people who have surrendered some or all of their lives to Jesus … Christians … we can see vivid examples of how God’s character manifests. Throughout his three-year public ministry, time after time, Jesus demonstrated his deep compassion for brokenness all around him. It was an element of his unconditional love. He was gentle in spirit and sought to lift others out of misery, persecution, grave illness, and other debilitating forces in their lives.

There are, of course, moments between his emergence on the scene and his final climactic challenge while hanging on the cross and in the immediate hours before his crucifixion, that Jesus was tapped out … his cry and suffering as he took on the weight of all of humanity actually ended up shaking the ground and upending all reality.

The shortest verse in the Bible is the account of his grief at the death of a dear friend as his own grief was melded with the grief of the family who were some of his closest followers.

Of course, moments later, we learn of perhaps his greatest miracle: Bringing a man back to life after being dead for four days. Immediately producing great rejoicing.

So, in our own weeping, we can have confidence that the Lord of all understands and like the real-life account, weeping will turn to joy and celebration.

Compassion and empathy. Two forms of love where we put the needs of others before our own. Where we willfully act to help relieve suffering because we can’t help it. Our heads and hearts compel us. And, for some, we have an opportunity to live into the experience of others through, possibly, a supernatural linkage whereby we share common humanity. 

Thank you, Jesus.