Priority: Compassion

Good morning, Main Street. It's great to be with you today. We are going to take a week break from Genesis and return to one of our church’s priorities: compassion. I want to read the definition of compassion from Ryan, which says:

Compassion: Personal and corporate expressions of compassion to relieve human suffering, near and far, by means of short-term intervention and long-term personal and structural change to show the justice, mercy, and soul–satisfying beauty of Christ, forever.

That's a rich definition, but today we're going to focus on one aspect: showing compassion to the people God has placed near us. We'll do that by walking through Luke 10 and the parable of the Good Samaritan.

Before we get there, let me ask you a question:

Have you ever noticed how easy it is to miss something that's right in front of your face?

I have 2 examples of this, the first one actually happened earlier this week, and unfortunately, it has happened a few times, but for those of you who don’t know, I am a big walker, I love to walk. I usually listen to podcasts, but every once in a while, I will watch a sporting event or a funny

I watched a video that a friend DMs me, and I was watching something on my walk this week, and in a lot of neighborhoods in Boise, including the one on my walking route, cars park on the side of the road, and there’s not always sidewalks on these routes that I walk.

So as I am watching my video, I’m walking, laughing, and all of a sudden, POW, I run right into the back of a car that was parked on the side of the road. Luckily, I checked around. I dont think anyone saw, but if you see a Ring camera video going viral this weekend, there's a good chance it's me.

My other example is when I thought I had just turned 15, had just gotten my driver's permit, and my dad was teaching me that I needed to start carrying my wallet wherever I went, which felt new. Not 2 weeks into this, I lost my wallet, can’t find it anywhere, look all over the house, the car, at school, nothing. I had like $40 in there too, that is a lot when you are 15! I had to order a new permit and everything, and I was so upset at myself. Fast forward, probably 6 months, and we had this ottoman right by our front door with a few pillows on it. Some family friends were leaving, and one of them picked up a pillow randomly and sat right there under it….

My wallet… right underneath my nose, the whole time.

Now, running into a parked car and losing your wallet aren't life-changing tragedies. They're just funny reminders that sometimes the things right in front of us are the things we miss most easily.

And I think that's true in more important areas of life too.

Sometimes the opportunities God gives us to love people aren't hidden. They're not waiting for some future season when we have more time, more money, or fewer responsibilities. They're already right in front of us.

The struggling friend. The lonely church member. The exhausted parent. The coworker who is carrying more than they're letting on. The student who feels invisible. The neighbor who could use someone to care for them.

Most of the time, compassion isn't complicated. It's noticing people and moving toward them.

And that's exactly where Jesus takes us in Luke 10.

The story begins with a lawyer approaching Jesus and asking a question. Now, when we hear the word lawyer, we usually think of someone in a courtroom. That's not what this man was. He was an expert in the Mosaic Law—a respected teacher who knew the Scriptures well.

He asks Jesus, "Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?"

Jesus responds with a question of His own: "What is written in the Law? How do you read it?"

The lawyer answers correctly: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.

Jesus tells him, "You have answered correctly." Conversation over, right?

Not quite.

Luke gives us an important detail. He says the lawyer, "wanting to justify himself," asks another question:

"And who is my neighbor?"

That's really the question underneath the question.

He's not looking for more people to love. He's looking for a limit. He wants to know where the line is. Who counts as my neighbor? Who am I responsible for?

And if we're honest, we're often tempted to ask the same thing.

We want compassion to come with boundaries and qualifications. We want to know who deserves our time, our energy, and our attention.

But instead of giving him a definition, Jesus tells him a story. And by the time the story is over, Jesus completely changes the way he thinks about compassion.

Point 1: Compassion Sees

Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion.
Luke 10:30–33

This wasn't just any road. The road from Jerusalem to Jericho was known for being dangerous. It was steep, isolated, and the perfect place for robbers to ambush travelers. Jesus says the man is attacked, beaten, robbed, stripped of everything he owns, and left half dead on the side of the road.

Then three different travelers come along.

First comes a priest. If you're hearing the story for the first time, this is the hero. He's a respected religious leader.

Surely he'll stop and help. But Jesus says the priest sees the man and passes by.

Then comes a Levite, another man devoted to the things of God. Another man who knows the Scriptures. Another man everyone would expect to do the right thing. He also sees the man and keeps walking.

Then Jesus introduces a Samaritan.

For us, that may not sound shocking, but for Jesus' audience it would have been. Jews and Samaritans had a long history of hostility and division. They distrusted one another and often viewed each other as enemies. Yet Jesus makes the Samaritan the hero of the story.

We're never told exactly why the priest and Levite kept walking. Maybe they were afraid. Maybe they were busy. Maybe they assumed someone else would stop. Whatever the reason, they saw the need and kept moving.

And that's what makes this story so uncomfortable.

Because most of us don't struggle to recognize suffering. We struggle to slow down long enough to engage it.

One of the greatest enemies of compassion isn't hatred. It isn't even selfishness. The enemy of compassion is distraction.

And Proverbs warns us about becoming people who consistently ignore need.

Proverbs says

Whoever closes his ear to the cry of the poor will himself call out and not be answered.
Proverbs 21:13

The danger isn't always hostility. Sometimes it's simply indifference.

I wonder how many opportunities for compassion I've missed simply because I was in a hurry. How many hurting people have I overlooked because I was focused on my own agenda?

And that's where this story begins to press on us. Who have we stopped seeing?

Paul gives us a framework for what compassion looks like.

Philippians says

Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.
Phillippians 2:4

Compassion begins when we stop being the center of our own attention.

The church member who's struggling but keeps smiling every Sunday. The exhausted young parents are trying to stay afloat. The student who feels isolated. The neighbor who always seems to be by themselves. The friend who's quietly drifting from the Lord.

The Samaritan noticed physical suffering, but as followers of Jesus, we're also called to notice emotional suffering, discouragement, loneliness, fear, doubt, and people who are far from Christ. Matthew 9:36 says

When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

Jesus didn't just see a crowd. He saw people carrying burdens nobody else noticed.

That's why compassion begins with prayer. There are more needs around us than we could ever recognize on our own. We need the Holy Spirit to help us see what God sees. We need Him to open our eyes to the people we've grown accustomed to walking past.

Because before compassion moves, before compassion gives, before compassion stays, compassion sees.

And you cannot show compassion to people you refuse to notice

Point 2: Compassion Moves

He went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he set him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him.
Luke 10:34

After seeing the wounded man, Jesus gives us what may be the most important phrase in this parable:

“He went to him.”

I love how simple that is.

The Samaritan doesn't just notice the need. He doesn't stand at a distance feeling sorry for the man. He doesn't simply think, “That's terrible.” He goes to him.

That is the difference between sympathy and compassion. Sympathy feels. Compassion moves.

Many of us confuse feeling compassion with practicing compassion. We hear a heartbreaking story and feel burdened. We see someone struggling and genuinely care. Those feelings aren't wrong; they're often the beginning of compassion.

But compassion isn't merely something you feel. It's something you do.

James says

If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, be warmed and filled,’ without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that?
James 2:15–16

James reminds us that compassion is more than good intentions. It expresses itself through action. The entire book of James, by the way, does a great job of challenging us to put our faith into action. Compassion is not just feeling for someone in their time of need, it's stepping in to help however we can.

1 John tells us

Let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.
1 John 3:18

That's exactly what we see in the Samaritan.

Notice how active he is. He approaches the man. He bandages his wounds. He pours oil and wine on them. He places him on his own animal and transports him to safety. Every step requires action. Every step costs something.

The Samaritan uses his own supplies. The oil and wine intended for himself are now used to care for someone else. He likely tears cloth into bandages. Then he places the wounded man on his animal, which means someone has to walk. Helping this stranger immediately disrupts his plans.

His day is no longer about where he was going. His day is now about someone else's pain. As someone who is a planner, I find this hard and stressful. I dont want to disrupt MY day to show SOMEONE ELSE compassion.

And honestly, that's often why compassion is difficult. Because compassion costs us something. It costs time, convenience, comfort, money, and emotional energy.

Most of us don't struggle to admire compassion. We struggle when compassion interrupts our schedules or becomes inconvenient. Yet that's exactly the kind of compassion Jesus is describing, not a compassion that stays safely on the other side of the road, but a compassion that gets involved.

Now, some people hear this and immediately feel overwhelmed because the needs around us are endless. There are hurting people in our city, our nation, and around the world.

So where do we begin?

One of the unique callings of the local church is to provide care, immediate help, and compassion. If you missed last week, Ryan shared that on our last benevolence Sunday, we had the opportunity to care for a woman who was living out of her car and whose car broke down in our parking lot.

We may not be able to solve every problem in the world, but we can help the person God has placed right in front of us.

Most of the time, this can be very simple.

It looks like bringing a meal to a family in a difficult season. Helping someone with a car repair. Sending an encouraging text. Helping someone move. Showing up when someone is hurting.

These aren't the kinds of things that make headlines, but they're exactly the kinds of things that make people feel loved.

In fact, one of the most overlooked forms of compassion is simply being present. Sometimes the most compassionate thing you can do is show up. Sit with someone. Listen. Pray.

Romans says

Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.
Romans 12:15

Not every situation needs a solution. Sometimes people simply need your presence. They need someone willing to step into their pain and stay there for a little while.

One of the biggest lies we can tell ourselves is that if we can't do something huge, we shouldn't do anything at all. We think, “I can't fix their marriage. I can't solve their financial problems. I don't know exactly what to say.” But compassion was never about doing everything. It's about doing something.

Throughout the Gospels, we're repeatedly told that Jesus was moved with compassion. Matthew says

He had compassion on them and healed their sick.
Matthew 14:14

When Jesus saw people hurting, compassion moved Him toward them, and that's exactly what followers of Jesus are called to do.

Not because we can fix every problem. Not because we can save everyone. But because compassion doesn't ask, “Is this enough?” Compassion asks, “How can I help?” And often the most Christlike thing we can do is simply take one step toward someone else's pain.

Point 3: Compassion Stays

One thing I think we often miss when reading the Good Samaritan story is that it doesn't end when the man gets out of the ditch. In many ways, that's where most of us would end it. The Samaritan sees the need, bandages the wounds, gets the man to safety, and moves on. That would already be enough to make Jesus' point. But Jesus keeps telling the story.

The next day, he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, 'Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.
Luke 10:35

The Samaritan doesn't simply help the man through a crisis. He commits himself to the man's recovery. He takes him to an inn. He cares for him through the night. He pays for his expenses. He makes arrangements for continued care. And then he promises to return.

In other words, his compassion doesn't end when the emergency is over.

That's important because one-time acts of compassion are often easier than long-term relationships. Most of us don't mind helping during a crisis. We like serving at an event, giving toward a need, or stepping in when something dramatic happens. Those things matter, and they can make a real difference. But they're often easier because they have a finish line. You can put them on the calendar. You can complete the task. You can check the box and move on.

People don't work like that. Real people are messy. Real people heal slowly. Real people often need more than one conversation, more than one meal, more than one prayer, and more than one encouraging text.

The Samaritan understood that compassion isn't just about helping someone through a moment. It's about helping them through a season.

I think about the people who have had the greatest impact on my life. Rarely were they the people who showed up once. They were the people who kept showing up. The pastor who kept calling. The friend who kept checking in. The mentor who stayed invested. The church member who kept encouraging me. The people who changed my life weren't usually the people who made the biggest splash. They were the people who stayed. And if you're honest, that's probably true for you too.

One-time compassion is easy. It's like being the fun uncle. You show up, bring candy, throw a football, and leave.

Long-term compassion is parenting. It's diapers, homework, and driving people places for seventeen years.

When you think back on difficult seasons in your life, grief, disappointment, failure, loneliness, doubt, what mattered most wasn't simply that someone helped once. What mattered was that they stayed. They kept texting, kept praying, kept asking how you were doing, and kept showing up. Consistency communicates love in a way that occasional acts never can.

This is one of the reasons God designed the church the way He did. The church isn't primarily a service we attend. It isn't primarily a building or a weekly event. The church is a family. A body. A group of people committed to helping one another follow Jesus.

That's why the New Testament is filled with "one another" commands. Bear one another's burdens. Encourage one another. Pray for one another. Serve one another. Love one another. Galatians 6:2 says Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.

The Christian life was never meant to be lived alone. In Galatians, Paul writes

So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith.
Galatians 6:10

Notice that phrase: especially those who are of the household of faith.

Paul isn't saying we only care about Christians. He's saying there should be a unique level of care within the family of God. The church should be a place where people know they won't walk through hardship alone. The goal isn't simply for Main Street to perform compassionate acts. The goal is that Main Street becomes a compassionate people.

A church where people know, "If life falls apart, someone will walk with me."

Not for a day. Not for a week. But for as long as it takes.

And honestly, that kind of compassion is desperately needed in our world. We live in a culture with more connections than ever before and yet deeper loneliness than many have ever experienced. People have hundreds of contacts and very few true friends. We are surrounded by people but rarely known.

Many people don't need another random act of kindness; they need someone who keeps showing up long after everyone else has moved on.

Anybody can show up once. Compassion keeps showing up. Anybody can help during a crisis. Compassion stays through the recovery. Anybody can help when it's exciting. Compassion stays when it's ordinary.

However, I think if we stopped right there, we could leave today feeling like Christianity is just another list of things to do.

"How was church this morning?"

"Oh, it was great. Jack talked about how I need to spend more time, spend more money, and be more compassionate."

But that's not the heart of this passage.

Because the reality is that some people in this room are carrying real pain right now. Some of you are exhausted. Some of you are grieving. Some of you feel overwhelmed by family situations, anxiety, disappointment, loneliness, or circumstances that seem bigger than you.

And when you're in that place, hearing another challenge to "do more" can feel crushing rather than life-giving.

In fact, for some of you, the most important thing you need to hear today isn't a call to show compassion. It's a reminder that Jesus has shown you compassion.

Before Jesus calls us to become compassionate people, He invites us to rest in His compassion for us.

That's why Paul can say in Galatians

And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.
Galatians 6:9

Why? Because God knows we get weary. He knows we get tired. He knows we don't always have the strength to keep going on our own.

The good news of the gospel is that our relationship with God is not built on how well we care for others. It's built on the compassion Jesus has already shown us.

And that brings us to our 4th and final point…

Point 4: Compassion Points to Jesus

If the story ended with a command to "go and do likewise," we'd walk away inspired for a few days, then eventually grow exhausted. But Jesus is doing more than giving us an example to imitate. He's revealing something about himself.

At this point in the story, Jesus has already drawn the lawyer in. He answered the question, "Who is my neighbor?" with a story that refuses to stay theoretical. But as the parable lands, there's a deeper question hanging in the air that Jesus never directly states but makes impossible to avoid:

Where do you fit in this story?

And I think most of us instinctively try to place ourselves in the story as the Samaritan.

We want to be the one who sees clearly, moves quickly, and stays faithfully. And in one sense, that’s exactly what Jesus is calling us toward. But if we’re honest, that’s not the first place the story puts us.

The man on the road is not just an unfortunate victim of bad circumstances. He is stripped, beaten, and left helpless. He cannot fix himself. He cannot walk out. He cannot heal what’s been done to him. He is completely dependent on someone else to come near, lift him up, and carry the cost of his recovery.

And Jesus tells this story in a way that quietly presses a deeper truth into us, that’s us.

We are not the ones passing by with it all together. We are not the ones casually deciding whether to help. We are the ones lying in the ditch, wounded by sin, unable to restore ourselves, more broken than we realize, and more helpless than we’d like to admit.

The Bible is very direct about this. Ephesians 2 says we were “dead in our trespasses and sins.” Not struggling. Not mostly okay. Dead. Unable to make the first move toward God. I love the first couple of words of the song Death Was Arrested Alone in my sorrow and dead in my sin. Lost without hope, with no place to begin

And into that reality, Jesus doesn’t stand at a distance and give advice. He doesn’t shout instructions from the road.

He doesn’t offer a moral framework and wish us luck. He comes near.

This is where God's compassion becomes personal. Because the entire arc of the gospel is not God demanding we climb our way out of the ditch, but God stepping into it with us. In Jesus, God takes on flesh. He enters the brokenness of humanity. He moves toward what everyone else would pass by.

And unlike the Samaritan, who pays a cost in oil, wine, time, and money, Jesus pays a far deeper cost. He doesn’t just bandage wounds, He takes the wound. He doesn’t just offer temporary care, He offers His life. At the cross, He absorbs the full weight of sin, injustice, and brokenness so that healing could actually happen.

That’s why the gospel is not just an example to follow, it’s a rescue from death for us to receive!!

Before we ever talk about becoming people who see, move, and stay, we have to realize that we are people who have already been seen, moved toward, and stayed with by Jesus.

And because He did, everything changes. We don’t love people in order to earn God’s compassion; we love people because we’ve already received it. We don’t stay with people to prove ourselves; we stay because Jesus stayed with us when we were most unlovable.

So the question is no longer just, “Who is my neighbor?”

It becomes, “If this is how Jesus has loved me, how can I not do the same for the people He has placed right in front of me?”

Conclusion

As Jesus finishes this story, He doesn’t end with applause. He ends with a question. Not because the lawyer lacks information, but because he now has to decide who he will be.

Jesus asks, “Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?”

And the lawyer can’t even bring himself to say “the Samaritan.” He replies, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus says, “You go, and do likewise.”

That’s where the story lands. Not just in admiration, but in invitation.

Because the real issue was never whether the lawyer could define “neighbor.” The issue was whether he would become one.

And that same question lands on us.

It would be easy to walk away from a passage like this feeling inspired. We could say, “We should be better people,” or “We should try harder to help others.” But if that’s all we hear, we’ve missed the weight of what Jesus is doing.

He’s not just giving us a moral upgrade. He’s calling us into a different way of life, shaped by a different kingdom.

A kingdom where people are not interruptions, but image-bearers.

A kingdom where inconvenience is not avoided, but embraced in love.

A kingdom where compassion is not occasional, but constantly shown.

And the only way we become that kind of person is not by trying harder, but by staying close to Jesus, the One who first came near to us.

Because the truth is, you and I are still prone to live like the priest and the Levite. We see needs and rationalize distance. We feel compassion and then get distracted. We convince ourselves that someone else will handle it, or that the timing isn’t right, or that we don’t have enough to give.

But Jesus won’t let us stay there.

He redefines what it means to live faithfully in a broken world. Not by asking us to fix everything, but by calling us to faithfully love the people He has already placed before us.

So maybe the question for us this week is simpler than we make it out to be.

Not, “Who is my neighbor in theory?” But, “Who is in front of me right now?”

Who is the person I’ve been seeing but not noticing? Who is the need I’ve been aware of but avoiding?

Who is the relationship God is inviting me to step into, not for a moment, but for a season?

Because compassion is not just something we admire in a story. It’s something we are called to become.

Somehow managed to walk straight into a parked car while paying attention to something else. I also lost my wallet for six months, even though it was sitting a few feet away from me the entire time.

The problem wasn't that those things were hidden. The problem was that I wasn't paying attention.

And in a world that walks past wounded people every day, the church is meant to be different. Not because we have it all together, but because we’ve been loved by the One who didn’t pass us by.

So go and do likewise, not in your own strength, but as people who have first been found, carried, and healed by Jesus Himself.

Reflection Questions

I am going to invite the band up here and put up a couple of questions for us to reflect on before they play their first song.

Point 1: Compassion Sees

• Where am I currently walking past people or needs that God may be inviting me to actually notice?

Point 2: Compassion Moves

• What is one actual step I can take this week to move toward someone in need instead of just feeling concern for them?

Point 3: Compassion Stays

• Who in my life might need more than a moment of help, but a consistent presence from me over time?

Point 4: Compassion Points to Jesus

• How does remembering the way Jesus moved toward me in my brokenness change the way I respond to people in front of me this week?