Tag: Empathy

Be Fully Present

“Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” (Romans 12:15, NET)

Paul’s exhortation in this verse is simple yet profoundly challenging. It calls us to a kind of empathy that goes beyond surface-level acknowledgment into full participation in the lives of others. In a world that often values efficiency over connection and distraction over attention, this command pushes us to slow down and truly engage with the people around us.

What does it mean to rejoice with someone who is rejoicing? Often, jealousy or comparison can creep in, dulling our ability to genuinely celebrate others’ blessings. Similarly, to weep with those who weep means more than offering a quick word of sympathy. It requires setting aside our comfort and opening our hearts to feel the weight of someone else’s sorrow.

Being fully present is more than just a relational skill—it’s a reflection of Christ. Jesus was the ultimate example of presence. In the joy of a wedding feast, He turned water into wine to enhance the celebration (John 2:1-11). In the depths of grief, He wept with Mary and Martha over Lazarus’s death, even though He knew resurrection was moments away (John 11:35). Jesus met people exactly where they were, without rushing to fix or judge but always fully engaged.

Paul’s instruction here fits into the larger framework of Romans 12, which begins with the call to present our bodies as a living sacrifice (Romans 12:1). Part of that sacrifice is giving our time, attention, and emotional investment to others. It’s an act of humility to set aside our agendas, our worries, and even our judgments to simply be with someone else in their moment—whether of joy or sorrow.

How often do we let distractions or self-interest keep us from being fully present? Do we listen to understand, or are we just waiting for our turn to speak? Do we celebrate someone’s success with genuine joy, or do we secretly compare their gain to our lack? Do we truly sit with those in pain, or are we quick to offer platitudes and move on?

Paul’s command is both an invitation and a challenge. To embody Christ’s love, we must be willing to step into the emotional realities of those around us. In doing so, we not only honor them but also worship God through our relationships.

Take a moment today to look around and ask: who in your life needs someone to rejoice with them? Who needs someone to weep with them? How can you set aside your distractions and enter into their moment with the love and presence of Christ?

The Wounded Healer

During college, I first encountered The Wounded Healer by Henri Nouwen. My program director — Dr. Carl Strutt — put it on the reading list for one of his classes. At the time, I didn’t fully connect with it. Despite my relative poverty growing up in a broken family, I didn’t really understand “wounded-ness” per se. Other than the death of my grandfather when I was in Grade 3, I had never experienced anything that “grieved” me. But as the years went by, I found myself returning to the ideas in Nouwen’s book, especially as I experienced struggles of my own and walked alongside others in theirs. I began to understand the power in acknowledging our own pain and the way it allows us to empathize deeply with those who are hurting. Now, I have come to appreciate The Wounded Healer as a valuable perspective on how God’s love works through us, especially in our weaknesses.

In his account of Jesus’ suffering, John shows us how Christ embodied this idea of the wounded healer in its fullest form. Jesus wasn’t only a wounded healer; He became the very suffering that would ultimately redeem. On the cross, bearing the agony of the physical, emotional, and spiritual wounds inflicted on Him, He extended Himself entirely to meet our deepest needs for healing. The wounds of Christ were no minor affliction; they were wounds that reached to the depths of His being, and by them, we are healed (Isaiah 53:5). Jesus took on the ultimate brokenness to bring us wholeness.

In Nouwen’s language, we might say that Jesus embraced the full weight of human suffering, making His brokenness a bridge of healing for us. Just as Jesus bore the punishment we deserved, we can follow Him by recognizing that our own wounds, while painful, can also be avenues of compassion. Instead of masking our brokenness, we can choose to allow God to work through it to reach others.

So if today finds you carrying wounds — whether from past hurts, recent disappointments, or anything in between — consider how God might be inviting you to use those places of pain to bring comfort to others. Christ took on wounds for us, and He invites us to participate in His ministry by reaching out to others, not in spite of our wounds, but through them.