
ON THIS GOOD FRIDAY, the day Christ was crucified, I contemplated what I would write. I had two topics in mind—suffering and compassion. Then I realized I needn’t choose one. I could focus on both.
Christ died a cruel and agonizing death. There is no denying that. Yet, even in his betrayal, his pain, his intense suffering, he showed compassion to the end. And beyond the end. We can learn a lot from Jesus.
We all experience suffering in life. That’s a given in our humanity. Right now I have friends going through some really rough stuff within their immediate and extended families. A one-year-old on life support. A nephew dead in a tragic car accident. Another battling advanced cancer. Ongoing and new health issues. It can feel like a lot. And to think otherwise would be to deny the challenges facing people about whom I care deeply. There are days when I feel overwhelmed by all the suffering in this world and beyond. Enough already, I want to scream.
But then I recognize that I can either be dragged down by it or I can do as Christ did—show compassion. I can be that person who listens. I can be that person who offers encouraging words. I can be that person who mails an uplifting greeting card with a personal note. I can be that person who connects and shows care in tangible ways and sets aside my anguish to focus on those at the center of challenges.
This is not the time to pull out my own stories and compare, thus putting the focus on me. This is not the time for me to tell anyone how to think, feel or act. This is not the time to offer advice. This is the time to simply be there. To listen. To hug. To pray, but to take my compassion beyond thoughts and prayers.

I am a major advocate of listening. It is one of the greatest gifts anyone can give to someone who is grieving, in crisis, in the throes of health or other challenges. Listening doesn’t seem to come easily for most people. It takes a conscious, focused effort. But at its core, listening is easy. It requires keeping one’s mouth closed, for starters. And then it necessitates concentrating, taking in every word, every nuance, body language and detail.
By nature, I am a quiet observer. I don’t need to be, want to be, the loudest person in the room pushing my ideas or opinions or recommendations. I know too many individuals who fit that self-centered persona. They exhaust me and, yes, sometimes even anger me. Quiet compassion and listening center me.

Today, as I reflect on the life and death of Christ, I see someone who showed great compassion throughout his time on earth. He witnessed and understood suffering. He experienced emotions. He felt pain. Yes, I can learn a lot from Jesus. About loving. About listening. About showing compassion, even in suffering.
TELL ME: How do you show compassion to those who are facing challenges?
© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
A commentary: Called to help others October 6, 2022
Tags: care, commentary, compassion, devotion, faith, helping others, Leviticus, Minnesota, Monticello
THIS MORNING IN READING one of two daily devotionals, I was reminded of the need to help others. The referenced scripture, Leviticus 25: 35-37, published with the October 6 Our Daily Bread devotion, brought back a scene which unfolded recently in Monticello.
On our way home from a short stay at a family member’s central Minnesota lake cabin, I spotted a woman holding a sign along State Highway 25 just before the Interstate 94 overpass. She stood in a center island, at a stoplight, traffic swarming around her. Her sign, with many misspellings, requested help for her and her three children. Help to pay for food and rent. Basic needs.
I felt in that moment a sense of compassion, yet an inability to aid this woman. And, I admit, I also felt a bit of uncertainty, a hesitancy, a questioning of whether she truly was in need. That reaction bothers me. Why couldn’t I simply trust the truthfulness of her request?
That brings me back to Leviticus, chapter 25, verse 35:
If one of your countrymen becomes poor and is unable to support himself among you, help him as you would an alien or a temporary resident, so he can continue to live among you.
That’s a powerful directive. Help him, or in the case of the woman in Monticello, her. Whether you are a person of faith or not, the Bible holds important messages that today fit the definition of “social justice.” Compassion. Mercy. Grace.
Not all of us are in a financial position to assist with gifts of money. But there are many other ways to help our friends, family, neighbors and, yes, even strangers. Encourage via kind and supportive words—written or spoken. I like to send uplifting cards with handwritten notes of encouragement. Pray. Engage in conversation, mostly listening. It’s about taking the focus off ourselves and placing it on others. Educate yourself via reading, attending community events that enlighten and more. Volunteer.
The woman in Monticello, even though I couldn’t aid her, gives me pause to reflect. So many people are struggling. With health issues, relationships, finances, simply trying to meet basic needs. Throw in the current divisiveness in this country, an ongoing pandemic, worldwide threats and conflicts, and the situation can feel overwhelming. Yet, we are all capable of doing something. Of reaching out with compassion and care. Of connecting. Of encouraging, supporting, uplifting in some way, large or small, that shows our humanity.
TELL ME: In what ways have you helped others, whether family, friends or strangers? Specifics are especially welcome.
© Copyright 2022 Audrey Kletscher Helbling