Month: August 2025
Limitless Compassion
Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Limitless Compassion” Luke 13:10-17
Jimmy has spent most of his life feeling invisible. Born with developmental disability and a host of physical issues, he spent most of his childhood in foster care. He attended school, riding in a special bus and learning in special classrooms. Other kids called him names: retard, freak, spazz, dumbo. Nowadays, Jimmy is largely ignored as he stands outside his group home to watch the cars drive past. Eyes look past him as if he isn’t even there.
Heather feels invisible. Every day at lunch she sits in the corner of the cafeteria by herself. She wears outdated hand-me-downs and packs her lunch in a re-used brown paper bag. In gym class, no one picks her for their team. When it’s time for group projects, no one wants to work with her. She sees cliques of friends laughing in the hallways and wishes she were part of that. Eyes look past or around her as if she isn’t even there.
Bert and Jean feel invisible. They had been retired for a number of years when the pandemic forced them to also step back from their civic commitments. Their phone used to ring off the hook. But now, not so much. Many of their friends have passed on. Their kids and grandkids are just so busy. Some weeks, the Meals on Wheels driver is their only conversation partner. They don’t get out much, but when they do, eyes look past or around them as if they aren’t even there.
The world is filled with neighbors who feel alienated, invisible, and alone. You might think that would awaken a mass wave of empathetic outreach, but it doesn’t. Social scientists say our disregard for vulnerable others is a psychological phenomenon known as “compassion collapse.” Dr. Caryl Cameron, director of the Empathy and Moral Psychology Lab at Penn State University, writes that “People tend to feel and act less compassionately for multiple suffering victims than for a single suffering victim…. Precisely when it seems to be needed the most, compassion is felt the least.”
There are reasons for that. We are finite beings with limited resources. We may feel that our action (or inaction) doesn’t make a difference, so we withdraw. Or, we sometimes don’t get involved to protect ourselves. In the face of widespread tragedy and need, it becomes crushing to take on the pain of others. We grow numb and feel powerless.
The bent over woman was invisible to her neighbors. She had felt alone and unseen for eighteen years. In the world of the first century, she was a marginalized person—someone who lived outside the community of the righteous because she was physically deformed, spirit-possessed, and a woman. Anyone who has ever had a bad back can imagine the terrible discomfort that she must have felt: muscle spasms; neck pain; difficulty in rising, standing, or walking; the inability to look up and out at the world around her. At some point in her long years of suffering, compassion collapse kicked in for her community. She stopped being a neighbor and simply become the “bent over woman.” She would not have been seated in church on the day that Jesus preached. Instead, she would have been excluded, waiting at the entrance, hoping that someone would see her and speak a kind word into her life of suffering.
Only one person in the synagogue saw the bent over woman. It was Jesus. As only Jesus could, he instantly knew her suffering and need, and his heart went out to her with a limitless compassion that stretched the bounds of what was socially and religiously acceptable in his day. Carolyn Sharp, who teaches Hebrew Bible at Yale, notes that what one could or couldn’t do on the sabbath day was hotly contested in the first century. In fact, the Mishnah Shabbat, a collection of rabbinic teachings, forbade 39 different kinds of labor on the sabbath: sowing fields, baking, building, traveling, and more. It did not forbid healing. In fact, rabbis generally agreed that in life threatening situations, it was acceptable to heal. The rabbis divided, though, over whether healing for non-critical conditions, like being bent over, was permitted.
That’s a long walk to say that Jesus saw the woman and chose to act in controversial, even scandalous, ways. First, he invited her into the sanctuary, into the community of the righteous—to the Moses Seat—where he had been teaching. Then, Jesus did something even more provocative. He laid his hands on her bent over back and raised her up straight, freeing her from the disability that had long held her in bondage. Jesus next concluded his sermon for the day with an interpretation of scripture that silenced the critics. If God would permit a farmer to unbind, water, and feed livestock on the sabbath day, then surely it was permitted to free a woman from the spirit that had long bound her. Jesus gave the bent over woman a proper name, “Daughter of Abraham,” a sister to all the worshipers that day.
The world is filled with invisible people. Like Jimmy, they live with disability. Like Heather, they are friendless school-aged kids. Like Bert and Jean, they are elderly and alone. They are the non-English speaking workers who clean our hotel rooms or pick our crops. They are the economically challenged neighbors who frequent the Food Pantry or collect the empty cans and bottles after rugby weekend. They’d like to be seen, but eyes look past or around them as if they aren’t even there.
Jesus’ scandalous actions in a crowded synagogue one sabbath morning call us to see our invisible neighbors, to welcome them into the heart of the community, to make a caring and healing difference in their lives. Thomas Merton wrote that compassion is the keen awareness of the interdependence of all things. We cannot find wholeness—shalom—apart from community, and communities cannot be whole until the outsider, the excluded, and the marginalized are welcomed, accepted, valued, and included. In a world where some characterize compassion and empathy as weakness, today’s teaching from Jesus is a bold contradiction and a call to action.
Of course, there’s only one problem: compassion collapse. In a world where need can be ubiquitous, our compassion can be overwhelmed. We say, what can one person do in the face of such large-scale pain? We grow numb. We close our eyes. People become invisible. What are we to do?
Peter W. Marty, editor of the Christian Century, says that he builds compassion for those who live in difficult circumstances through the simple practice of imagining what it’s like to walk in their shoes. He does this when he encounters people in daily life who perform jobs that he’s not sure he could manage or tolerate for even a day. Whether it’s an individual enduring dangerous work conditions, tedious assignments, a hostile environment, or depressingly low wages, Marty tries to picture trading his life for theirs. It quickly his alters perspective and shifts his assumptions about how easy or hard life can be for those who undertake hazardous or dispiriting work that often goes unnoticed, work for which we typically feel indifference.
Researchers David DeSteno and Daniel Lim have conducted research to learn how we can have more resilient compassion. Through a series of studies, Lim and DeSteno identified a few factors that enliven our compassion and enhance our capacity to act. It begins with the belief that small steps can make a difference. We can’t solve all the problems of the world, but we can make a simple difference in the life of someone who needs our encouragement and support. It also helps to remember our own experiences of adversity. Remembering our past challenges, suffering, or need motivates us to accompany others. Finally, our personal practice of prayer and meditation can help us to be present to those invisible neighbors. Taking the time to pray and reflect allows us to trust that our actions serve a holy purpose and God is with us. When we are clean out of compassion, we can borrow some of the limitless compassion of Jesus. The world may be filled with invisible people, but it doesn’t have to be. Jesus believes we can make a difference in the lives of those who feel that they are on the outside looking in, longing for care, connection, and community.
This week, we’ll encounter them, those invisible neighbors. They’ll be sitting alone in Stewarts. They’ll be smoking outside their group home. They’ll be struggling to carry groceries to the car. They’ll fear they will miss that important doctor’s appointment because they don’t have a ride.
Let’s open our eyes and hearts. Take the time to see your invisible neighbor. Imagine what it’s like to walk in their shoes. Let’s remember our own experiences of adversity and isolation: that bitter break-up, the boss who bullied us, the health crisis we endured, the time we went broke. Let’s allow those suffering times to awaken our empathy for others and build our resolve to act. Undertake small compassionate acts and trust that they make a difference. Smile. Listen. Share a meal. Offer a ride. Bring someone to church. Finally, let’s ground our action in reflection and prayer. Remember Jesus, who healed a bent-over woman on the sabbath day and continues to long for the wholeness and redemption of our world.
Resources
Jared E. Alcantara. “Commentary on Luke 13:10-17” in Preaching This Week, August 24, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-21-3/commentary-on-luke-1310-17-6
Jeannine K. Brown. “Commentary on Luke 13:10-17” in Preaching This Week, August 22, 2010. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-21-3/commentary-on-luke-1310-17
Ira Brent Driggers. “Commentary on Luke 13:10-17” in Preaching This Week, August 25, 2019. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-21-3/commentary-on-luke-1310-17-4
Annelise Jolley. “The Paradox of Our Collapsing Compassion” in John Templeton Foundation News, Nov. 20,2024. Accessed online at https://www.templeton.org/news/the-paradox-of-our-collapsing-compassion
Peter W. Marty. “A Failure of Compassion” in The Christian Century, June 2024. Accessed online at https://www.christiancentury.org/first-words/failure-compassion
Carolyn J. Sharp. “Commentary on Luke 13:10-17” in Preaching This Week, August 21, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-21-3/commentary-on-luke-1310-17-5
Luke 13:10-17
10 Now he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath. 11 And just then there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years. She was bent over and was quite unable to stand up straight. 12 When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.” 13 When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God. 14 But the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the Sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured and not on the Sabbath day.” 15 But the Lord answered him and said, “You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the Sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger and lead it to water? 16 And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the Sabbath day?” 17 When he said this, all his opponents were put to shame, and the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things being done by him.

The Great Cloud of Witnesses
Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Great Cloud of Witnesses” Hebrews 11:29-12:2
In June, Duane and I traveled to Portugal and Spain to walk the Camino de Santiago. It’s an extended network of medieval pilgrim paths that crisscross the European countryside, all leading to the burial site of the Apostle James, the son of Zebedee. Our Camino journey would take us over 230 miles of trail from Porto, Portugal’s second largest city, to Santiago, and then on to the coast to Finisterre.
There were companions on our journey. About 75,000 people from all around the world will walk the coastal Camino from Portugal this year. They walk for many reasons. Some are expressing religious devotion. Others are in search of spiritual insight or self-knowledge. Some just want a good workout. One of the first pilgrims I met while walking was Karen, a Lutheran from Sweden. Karen narrowly escaped an aortic dissection when an x-ray for a persistent cough revealed a big bubble on the major artery near her heart. Her emergency surgery and journey to healing made her realize she wanted to walk the Camino. Less than two years out from my own experience of breast cancer, we connected with a shared sense of gratitude for restored health. The tough miles flew by as we talked, shared, and laughed together.
The Letter to the Hebrews was written for early Christians who were struggling in their journey of faith. They had made a good start on their pilgrim path. Enlightened by the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Hebrews had been filled with the Holy Spirit. They forged a caring community, loving and serving one another. But weariness, suspicion, and persecution, had challenged their faith. Neighbors who had once been friends now shunned them. Local authorities threatened them with prison. Even the emperor had begun to target them as enemies of Rome. Beset by adversity, the faith of the Hebrews was beginning to flag and fail. They questioned if the suffering was worth it, or if they could persevere through adversity. Some were neglecting to meet together.
We, too, can grow weary on the journey. Our chronic health issues wear us down and dim our hopes. Family troubles ramp up our worries and anxiety. Grief at the loss of loved ones feels like we are sojourning in the dark. Vitriol and chaos in American politics has us fearing for the future of our nation. As bombs fall in Ukraine and food aid is dangerously slow to relieve Gaza, man’s inhumanity to man tears our heartstrings and troubles our spirits. We know how it feels to be weary and overwhelmed. We know how it feels to struggle to find hope. We know how easy it is to become paralyzed, held fast by concerns that overwhelm us and in a quandary about what to do in response to circumstances that feel beyond our control.
The author of the Letter to the Hebrews reminded his friends that others had trod the pilgrim path before them. In seeking a good life with God, their ancestors had experienced trouble and hardship along the way. The Israelites had been only one step ahead of the Egyptian army as they ran for it thought the Red Sea. Gideon, Samson, Jephthah, and David had all fought impossible battles against better equipped enemies to defend their people. The Hebrew prophets may have had a holy hotline to God, but they were roundly persecuted and martyred. Somehow, those ancestors had found the temerity to persevere in faith, trusting that they were following the will of God and would one day fully know God.
Our journeys can be hard. The Camino was hard. I had trained and thought I was ready for the challenge. My trail walks and Adirondack hikes felt like the perfect preparation, but nothing really prepares you for the long miles, day after day, week after week. There were blisters for me and heel pain for Duane. There were temperatures soaring well into the 90s and a sun so intense that it burned me through my clothes. Washed out trails sometimes meant we had to walk on busy roads. Bathrooms were few and far between. Sometimes trail markers were missing or just plain wrong. It helped on our Camino journey to remember those who had gone before us. After all, pilgrims had been walking those paths for more than 1,200 years. They didn’t have the advantage of Adirondack training, zero-drop trail shoes, or Gregory packs. If they could do it, I could do it.
On the Camino, hardship is also faced as pilgrims support one another. My Swedish companion Karen and I met Suzie. A stewardess from Idaho, Suzie was about to turn 50 and had decided to celebrate her big birthday by walking the Camino. She looked great in her brand-new matching gear, clothes, and pack, but when we wished her a Buen Camino, we could see she was near tears. We stopped to listen: her knee hurt, her pack was painful, she didn’t have a place to stay that night, and she had gotten lost the day before and a farmer had needed to give her a ride for miles back to the trail. Soon, we were adjusting Suzie’s pack, sharing blister plasters, and commiserating about the journey. That night, another friend we met along the way, Laura from Texas, shared her lodging with Suzie—and Laura continued to do so all the way to Santiago.
We, too, have encountered those who make our way easier. Healthcare providers take a special interest in our recovery. Caring friends compassionately listen to our family woes and offer words of wisdom. Companions for the journey show up when we feel like we are walking though the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Level-headed leaders remind us of our nation’s founding principles and call us to be a better people, a better nation, a better world. We find encouragement for the journey as we attend to that great cloud of witnesses who have lived in faith and call us onward to the better path and the brighter kingdom.
The closing scene of our reading from Hebrews is borrowed from the first century athletic arena: a marathon race nears its end as competitors turn into a stadium for a final lap. An overflowing crowd cheers them on. Waiting to welcome them at the finish line is the glorified Jesus, now revealed in holy splendor. He has gone on before through sorrow, unimaginable suffering, and even death—and he is the victor. The Hebrews were reminded that they could run this race in faith because they were surrounded by that great cloud of cheering witnesses. Jesus had gone ahead of them and waited to welcome them to his Kingdom where sorrow and suffering and sighing would be transformed to never ending joy.
On the second day of our Camino journey, when the realization sank in that this would not be a cake walk, I remembered a word of advice from the spiritual reading that I had done in preparation for the journey. Traditionally, pilgrims have coped with their physical suffering by praying for others, sometimes even carrying a stone or a token that represents the burden of the other. As you walk the Camino, you can see impromptu trailside shrines, piles of stones, tokens, notes, and photos where pilgrims have left behind the burden they are carrying for another. As I posted to Facebook and Instagram that evening, I sent out a plea to the Metaverse—send me your special prayer requests.
In they came, from this church and from other churches that I have served, from friends and family, from the community. There were prayers for personal struggles, for health concerns, for beloved ones going through tough times, for the nation, and more. Each morning, as I set my feet on the pilgrim path, I began to pray. My silent prayers found the rhythm of my breath and unfurled into the beauty of the Galician countryside. As the miles unraveled, I found that I hurt a lot less, I felt more at peace, and there was joy. I began to see that I was surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. It wasn’t just those who were pilgrims around me and those who had walked the Camino before me over the eons. It was also those who had coveted my prayers, and all the people they had asked me to intercede for—and all the people who I knew were praying for me. We were all in it together. Best of all, Jesus was on the pilgrim path, Jesus who always walks this pilgrim journey with us.
May we follow in the footsteps of the Hebrews. Persist in the faith, my friends. Rise above weariness, hardship, and suffering. Draw strength from that great cloud of witnesses. Be confident in the meaning, purpose, and salvation that we have found in the Lord.
May we also know that we have a part to play in the faithful journeys of others. Indeed, we are part of that great cloud of witnesses, for we are all made one in Christ, our pioneer, our protector, our trailblazer. We are called to help and pray, to show up and cheer on, to point the way and keep the faith. We can make a difference in the lives of those who feel the journey is long, the way is dark, and there is no end in sight. Let’s open our eyes to those who need our witness. Let’s open our hearts and hands to make a caring difference. They say the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. Let’s step out in faith. Amen.
Resources:
Madison N. Pierce. “Commentary on Hebrews 11:29-12:1” in Preaching This Week, Aug. 17, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-20-3/commentary-on-hebrews-1129-122-6
Mary Foskett. “Commentary on Hebrews 11:29-12:1” in Preaching This Week, Aug. 18, 2019. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-20-3/commentary-on-hebrews-1129-122-4
Amy L.B. Peeler. “Commentary on Hebrews 11:29-12:1” in Preaching This Week, Aug. 14, 2016. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-20-3/commentary-on-hebrews-1129-122-2
Erik Heen. “Commentary on Hebrews 11:29-12:1” in Preaching This Week, Aug. 18, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-20-3/commentary-on-hebrews-1129-122-3
John Piper. “Running with the Witnesses” in Desiring God, August 17, 1997. Accessed online at desiringGod.org.
Hebrews 11:29-12:2
29 By faith the people passed through the Red Sea as if it were dry land, but when the Egyptians attempted to do so they were drowned. 30 By faith the walls of Jericho fell after they had been encircled for seven days. 31 By faith Rahab the prostitute did not perish with those who were disobedient, because she had received the spies in peace.
32 And what more should I say? For time would fail me to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets, 33 who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions, 34 quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. 35 Women received their dead by resurrection. Others were tortured, refusing to accept release, in order to obtain a better resurrection. 36 Others suffered mocking and flogging and even chains and imprisonment. 37 They were stoned to death; they were sawn in two; they were killed by the sword; they went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, persecuted, tormented— 38 of whom the world was not worthy. They wandered in deserts and mountains and in caves and holes in the ground.
39 Yet all these, though they were commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised, 40 since God had provided something better so that they would not, apart from us, be made perfect.
12 Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, 2 looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.
