You wake up, reach for your phone, and before the coffee finishes brewing, you have scrolled past a war, a natural disaster, somebody dancing in their living room, a headline about world hunger, and an ad for a two-thousand-dollar phone. Then you put the phone down and go to work, because what else are you supposed to do with all of that?

If you have ever felt numb to the news, or felt guilty for feeling numb, I understand completely. Some mornings I wish I could turn the volume of the world down.  Most of us have learned to see suffering without stopping, and honestly, it is how a lot of people manage to get through the day.

Jesus told a story about exactly this condition. It is one of the most famous parables in scripture, and because we have heard it so many times, it is easy to miss what it is actually asking of us.

We See Everything and Stop for Almost Nothing

When I look at everything happening across the globe, my thoughts start racing. I tell myself that I cannot help everybody, that I cannot fix all of these massive problems, and that I have to take care of my own family first. I am human, after all.

I am guessing you think those exact same thoughts. I want to be clear that those thoughts are not inherently evil. They are simply incomplete, and Jesus had something profound to say about the boundaries we draw around our empathy.

Understanding Luke 10: The Question Behind the Question

In Luke chapter 10, an expert in religious law stands up to test Jesus by asking what he must do to inherit eternal life. Jesus turns the question back to him, asking what the law says, and the man answers accurately: love God with everything you have, and love your neighbor as yourself. Jesus affirms his answer, telling him to do this and live.

But the man was not finished. Scripture notes that he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?"

That might sound like a sincere inquiry, but it was really a request to set limits. He was asking where the line was drawn. He knew he was supposed to care for his family and help his immediate community, but he wanted to know how far he was required to go. Underneath his question was a second query he did not say out loud: Who is not my neighbor, and where am I allowed to look away?

Jesus did not answer his technicality directly. Instead, He told the parable of the Good Samaritan. A man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho is attacked by robbers, stripped, beaten, and left half dead. A priest comes down the road, sees him, and crosses to the other side. A Levite does the same thing. Then a Samaritan comes along, sees the wounded man, and takes pity on him.

The critical detail in this passage is that all three men saw him. The priest was not distracted, and the Levite was not checking a device. Each of them looked at a dying man in the road. The difference was never in what they saw; it was entirely in what they chose to do next. That remains the central question in front of every believer today, because we see need constantly. You cannot avoid seeing poverty, hunger, and vulnerability. The real question is what you do with what you see.

What Biblical Compassion Really Means: Moving Toward the Need

In Christian theology and practice, biblical compassion is defined as empathy in action—a deliberate movement toward someone’s pain rather than a retreat from it. Compassion is not merely a passive feeling of pity; it requires tangible, self-sacrificing intervention.

The Samaritan in Jesus' story was not a medical doctor, nor could he single-handedly fix the systemic safety issues on the dangerous road between Jerusalem and Jericho. He had simple resources: bandages, oil, wine, a donkey, and two silver coins. He used what he had. He went directly to the man, bandaged his wounds, placed him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and paid out of pocket for his care.

Every single word describing the Samaritan's movement is an action verb. Compassion may originate as a feeling in your heart, but it must express itself through your hands.

In Latino culture, a common phrase is ay, bendito, which people say when they feel bad for someone’s misfortune. Picture the Samaritan leaning over the wounded man, shaking his head, saying "ay, bendito," and then climbing back on his donkey to leave. That would be sympathy, but not compassion. When the lawyer in Luke 10 admits that the true neighbor was the one who showed mercy, Jesus gives a clear directive: "Go and do likewise." He does not command us to fix the entire world; He instructs us to move toward the specific need placed right in front of us.

Cultivating an Interruptible Life Led by the Holy Spirit

During our recent season at City of Life Church focusing on the Holy Spirit, a penetrating question emerged that I have not been able to shake: How interruptible are you?

If we are genuinely following the Spirit's guidance, do we leave room in our daily schedules for Him to stop us, redirect us, or disrupt our calendars? Or are our days so rigidly planned that no space remains for spontaneous obedience?

The Samaritan was traveling with a clear destination and his own plans for the day. The wounded man was an unexpected disruption, but he allowed it to become a divine appointment. True compassion costs time, comfort, and energy, but it consistently reflects the heart of God.

This principle applies both locally and globally. I recall running late for a flight at the airport when I noticed a woman nearby, standing in tears. Her flight had been canceled; she rarely traveled, and she was completely overwhelmed. Taking ten minutes to pause, I showed her how to use a rideshare app and navigate her connection. Most of the needs around us each day don't require us to solve global crises; they simply require us to stop walking past people.

Seeing the Gospel at Work in Nairobi, Kenya

Earlier this year, my wife, Pastor Amanda, and I traveled to Nairobi, Kenya, representing City of Life in our ongoing partnership with Compassion International. This organization exists to release children from poverty in Jesus' name by partnering directly with local churches in areas of extreme need. Personal child sponsorships allow these native churches to provide nutritious food, medical checkups, educational resources, and gospel teaching.

While in Nairobi, we walked with a young child from the local center back to her family home. The entire structure was about the size of my son’s closet and housed a mother, father, and four children. Despite having almost nothing, they welcomed us with overwhelming generosity, and the mother presented me with a handmade bracelet.

She shared that their family survives on approximately ten dollars a month. Her husband collects scrap metal from local junkyards to build working motorcycles, earning rent money that costs six dollars monthly. Necessities like clean water and restroom access require walking several blocks and paying per use. You can instantly see how generational poverty traps families who are working as hard as they can.

As we talked, the mother mentioned "me and my three kids." Knowing I had counted four children in the room, I asked her about it. She explained that the fourth child was her sister's daughter. When her sister struggled with addiction and her life unraveled, this mother refused to let her niece end up on the street. With almost no financial cushion, she chose to move toward that child's need.

When we offered to pray for her, she asked us to pray that the young girl would feel the love of Jesus in their home, and that her own arm would heal after an injury she sustained carrying water jugs. Standing in that tiny room as Amanda held her, the reality hit me that an individual sponsor supporting her child was altering the trajectory of an entire family.

Grace in Action: A Story of Redemption from the Dominican Republic

During our church's Compassion Sunday, we heard a powerful message from Jonathan Almonte, who grew up in a Compassion program in the Dominican Republic and now serves on their staff. His story demonstrates why holistic, gospel-centered ministry is essential.

Jonathan grew up surrounded by neighborhood crime while his mother worked long hours in a factory for about a dollar a day. There were days when his only meal was a single cookie. To help pay rent, he sold juice and street food that he was not allowed to eat himself. Drawn to local gangs because drug dealers wore high-end shoes while he stuffed cardboard into his worn-out footwear, his life was headed toward destruction.

A neighborhood friend allowed Jonathan to share his school uniform, wearing it for morning classes before handing it back for his friend's afternoon shift. That friend was part of the local church's Compassion program, and his mother introduced Jonathan to the center. At seven, Jonathan was sponsored by a 26-year-old college student in Michigan named Jamie, who chose to sponsor a child rather than save for a car.

Transformation did not happen overnight. Jonathan admitted he struggled with anger and fought constantly at the center for five years. When he was twelve, a fight resulted in another boy falling into a coma. Sitting in tears in the director’s office, expecting to be permanently expelled, the director gently placed her hands on his face and said, "Jonathan, why are you fighting? You don't have to fight. We love you."

The injured boy recovered, and the center extended unearned grace to Jonathan instead of turning him away. That moment of unconditional love became his turning point, and led to his baptism shortly after.

For fourteen years, Jamie wrote him regular letters of encouragement. While Jonathan’s biological father remained absent and eventually told him he was a mistake, Jamie sent a Thanksgiving letter reminding Jonathan that he was one of the greatest blessings in her life, pointing him to Luke 2:11. That continuous encouragement gave Jonathan the strength to forgive his father. Today, Jonathan works to release other children from poverty, while his mother has come to faith and works as a teacher.

Why Meeting Physical Needs Requires the Gospel

Jonathan shared an insight that every believer and supporter needs to remember: if he had received shoes, school supplies, and hot meals without the gospel of Jesus Christ, he would have grown up well-fed, educated, and still carrying destructive bitterness toward his father.

Physical assistance is vital, but meeting material needs while omitting the gospel leaves the work unfinished. The deepest need of every human heart—whether in Africa, the Dominican Republic, or right here in Central Florida—is reconciliation with God through Jesus Christ.

The Good Samaritan and the True Neighbor

When reading the parable of the Good Samaritan, our instinct is to project ourselves into the role of the hero who saves the day. While aspiring to show mercy is a noble pursuit, the theological reality is that we are far more like the wounded man lying broken in the road.

We were entirely incapable of saving ourselves from the effects of sin. God did not remain distant, nor did He look at our brokenness with frustration. He moved toward us in our time of need, demonstrating His love in that “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us,” as written in Romans 5:8. Christian compassion is never about proving our own righteousness; it is a response to the overwhelming mercy we have received from a Savior who rescued us.

Take Your Next Step of Compassion This Week

Living out biblical compassion does not require you to solve every global crisis; it simply requires you to stop walking past the people God places in your path. This week, that might mean taking time to listen to a struggling coworker or committing to change a child's life through sponsorship.

If you are reading this while feeling overwhelmed by your own circumstances, know that Jesus is moving toward you right now. You are invited to join us this Sunday at City of Life Church, where you will find a welcoming community ready to walk alongside you. If you prefer to start online, you can stream our worship services from home at your own pace.