A Reflection on Women and Compassion

My church has a women's social group called "Girls Gather" in which women of all ages (from young kids all the way up to senior citizens) come together every couple of months for a fun outing or a learning experience or some kind of gathering that allows us to spend time together getting to know each other outside of church. We've done everything from a paint night to learning to make pie crust to a bowling night to a knitting/crocheting/crafting day. But in the summer, we try to gather for a pool and snacks party, and this afternoon I hosted that gathering at my house.

We had put this date on the calendar months ago, before my husband passed away, so of course the organizers asked if I still wanted to host, reassuring me that there were other people willing and able to host. But I wanted to host as a thank you to all the women of the church who had been so supportive to me and my family over the past few months. 

Part of the gathering is always a brief devotional intended to provide spiritual encouragement and/or growth, and to explore what it means to be a godly woman. I asked to share the devotional this month, and the words below are based on what I shared. 

When I was thinking about what I wanted to focus on in my devotional, I thought about the idea of compassion, and I used the parable of the sheep and the goats from Matthew 25 as a "jumping-off" point. Here is an excerpt of the parable, from Matthew 25:34-40. 

"Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’"

This parable is all about practical help. But it is a particularly compassionate kind of practical help. “I was sick and you looked after me.” “I was in prison and you came to visit me.” Not “I was sick and you healed me,” or even “I was sick and you sent for the doctor.” Not “I was in prison and you baked me a cake with a file in it,” or “I was in prison and you hired an attorney to file an appeal on my behalf.” The sick person isn’t being healed, and the person in prison isn’t being freed. They’re still sick and in prison, but they’re not alone. This practical help has a sense of compassion, of emotional healing, and of personal connections. To me, this feels like a very female kind of practicality.

In my experience, men are generally practical in a very problem-solving way. When you tell a man you have a problem, he wants to fix it so there isn’t a problem any more. When you tell a woman you have a problem, she wants to fix it so you won’t be hurt by it any more. It’s a subtle difference, but it’s a very important one.

Over the past two months, the women of my church have shown me and my family, over and over again, the kind of feminine compassion that is spoken of in this parable.

When they saw that I wasn’t hungry but I needed to eat, they fed me. When they saw that I wasn’t hungry but that my children needed to eat, they fed us. When they saw that my heart was sick, they came to visit me, or sent me a text, or gave me a call, or invited me for coffee, or brought me cocktails. Or they brought me their children. Or some flowers. Or simply a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on. When I was a stranger that they didn’t really know but they knew was hurting, they not only brought me dinner but they stayed and talked. And more importantly, they stayed and listened.

I don’t know what the actual origin is of the expression “Being the hands and feet of Jesus”, but the women of my church have been it to me and my family. They didn’t just pray for us and wait for God to meet our spiritual needs, they reached out to meet our physical and emotional needs. Don’t get me wrong: the prayer of a righteous woman is powerful and effective and we could feel every one. But the most “Christian” thing that anyone in my church did was to look at us, really look at us, and think, “What do they need right now?” And they did it. They didn’t do it to solve the problem; it was not a problem they could solve. They did it because they loved us the way that Jesus loves us, with hearts full of compassion and a desire to take away our pain.   

This experience has been the ultimate in sisterhood. I have many wonderful men around me who are helping me so much. One of my brothers-in-law catered the reception at the funeral; my other brother-in-law fixed my broken screen door and wonky kitchen cabinets. One of our Scout leader friends brought over a whole troop of BSA Scouts to weed my overgrown front island. My dear, long-time friend, the man who gave me away at my wedding, has talked me through multiple computer issues. They’ve fixed stuff. But it has been the women in my life, the women in my church, who have helped to to fix ME; to heal my heart. All of their practical help has come with a heart connection. Not just offering prayers, but asking what they can pray for. Not just bringing dinner, but asking if I’d like a visit as well. Not just inviting me for coffee, but spending time getting to know me, honestly wanting to know how I’m doing.

If men and women are made in the image of God, I think we’re the ones who got God’s compassion. Matthew 9:36 says, “When Jesus saw the crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” Micah 7:19: “You will again have compassion on us; you will tread our sins underfoot and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea.” Isaiah 30:18a: “Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; therefore he will rise up to show you compassion.” We are the children of a compassionate God.

The Bible is full of exhortations for us to show compassion to one another: Ephesians 4:32a, “Be kind and compassionate to one another”; Colossians 3:12a: “Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts;” 1 Peter 3:8: “Be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble.” 1 John 3:17: “If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person?” Romans 12:15: “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.”

With the exception of Jesus, most of the people in the Bible who are noted for their compassion are women. In Acts 9, we meet Dorcas, also called Tabitha, who “did many good things and many acts of kindness,” and who made clothing for widows, who all mourned when she died. In the book of Joshua, Rahab was called out for her kindness and compassion to the two spies sent by Joshua. Ruth, in the story of Ruth and Naomi, showed compassion for her mother-in-law, refusing to leave her alone in her grief over her two sons, even though it probably would have been easier for Ruth to return to her father’s house. In the book of Acts, a wealthy woman named Lydia opened her home to Paul and his fellow missionaries, offering them hospitality, kindness, and compassion. In Romans 16, Paul commends a woman named Phoebe for “helping many people,” in other words, for showing compassion.

Compassion is a gift that I think women have been given in a very special way. And women having compassion for other women is an even more special and unique connection. So I want to thank every one of the women who reached out to me for the compassion they have shown me and my family over the past months, but I also want to challenge them to continue to find ways to show compassion to others, especially to other women who are lost without Christ.

I would like to close with a prayer written by a pastor named Rich Bitterman. 

Dear Heavenly Father,

I come before you with a heart full of gratitude and love, knowing that you are the God of compassion, comfort, and refuge. Your word reminds me of your unwavering love and care for your children. I am reassured that when I cry out to you, you hear me. Your promise to deliver me from all my troubles fills me with hope and trust. Lord, in my moments of distress, when my spirit is crushed and my heart is broken, I feel your presence drawing near. Thank you for being close to the brokenhearted and for saving those who are crushed in spirit. Your love is my strength. I praise you for being the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort. During my trials, you provide me with reassurance. You comfort me in all my troubles, and I am grateful for the peace and strength I find in you. May I, in turn, be a source of comfort to others, sharing the comfort I have received from you with those who are in need. You are my refuge and strength. You are ever-present, always ready to help me in times of trouble. Lord, thank you for being my safe haven, my source of strength, and my constant support. In you, I find peace and security. Heavenly Father, I entrust my life to you, knowing that you are my refuge, my comfort, and my deliverer. May your love and grace guide me in all my days, and may I always seek to be a vessel of your comfort and compassion to those around me.

In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.