Compassion When It’s Hard: Resistance In My Own Heart

Those of you who have heard me speak or have been in relationship with me over the last 18 months know that I have been venturing into a fresh and very intentional dive into the depths of sanctification…my own, not yours. I have asked the Lord to give me more of Him and less of me. If you heard me speak at District Conference last October (2025) you know that the journey has been unexpected and rigorous. As part of this journey, and, in part, because of all the recent happenings in Minneapolis/St.Paul I have been asking the Lord to refresh my experience and practice of compassion. As you might expect, he began that process by showing me my heart and revealing to me all the reasons I resist compassion. Step two on this journey has been reconciling the reasons for my resistance with the Biblical invitation to be a person of deep and overflowing compassion. So, this article is a careful weaving of what I am seeing in my heart and what I hear Jesus (through scripture) saying about his heart. My invitation is simply to join me on the journey and respond to whatever you hear the Lord saying.

Let me begin by saying I am a huge proponent of compassion. Most people will agree, at least in principle, that caring for others is good and necessary. However, I am becoming aware that when compassion requires proximity, sacrifice, or emotional risk, hesitation sets into my heart. Here are a few reasons compassion can be hard:

1. I am observing that sometimes I resist compassion because of fatigue. Suffering can feel endless, and the needs around us overwhelming. What if we open ourselves fully, and end up drained beyond what we can bear? The Bible recognizes human limitation. Psalm 103 reminds us that God “knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.” Yet this acknowledgment is not an excuse to disengage; it is an invitation to depend on God rather than our own strength. Biblical compassion flows not from endless human energy, but from a God whose mercies are “new every morning” (Lamentations 3:22–23- Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness). Compassion is sustained by grace, not willpower alone.

2. Another source of resistance is fear. Compassion often draws us toward situations that feel unsafe, unpredictable, or emotionally costly. The hurting may carry stories that disturb us or needs we do not know how to meet. In the parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus describes religious leaders who see a wounded man and pass by on the other side of the road (Luke 10:31–32). Their actions are not explained, but fear—of danger, ritual contamination, or inconvenience—likely played a role. Jesus does not shame them; instead, He contrasts their avoidance with the Samaritan’s willingness to stop, cross boundaries, and take a risk. Compassion, Jesus teaches, often begins on the other side of fear.

3. People also resist compassion when it feels undeserved. We are quick to calculate who is responsible for their own suffering, whose pain is legitimate, and who has failed too often to merit help. This instinct toward judgment runs deep. Yet Scripture consistently undermines it. Jesus eats with tax collectors and sinners, heals people without first demanding moral reform, and forgives those who have clearly contributed to their own brokenness. Romans 5:8 reminds believers that “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Biblical compassion is rooted not in deserving, but in grace freely given. 

4. Busyness can also dull compassion. Lives filled with responsibilities, commitments, and constant noise leave little room to notice the pain of others. Compassion requires attention, and attention requires slowing down. Jesus, though often pressed by crowds, repeatedly stops for individuals—a blind man crying out by the road, a woman reaching through the crowd, a grieving family in a small village. His compassion is marked by presence. In a culture of hurry, the biblical call to compassion quietly challenges the pace at which we live.

5. There is also a subtler resistance: the fear that compassion will change us. To truly engage another’s suffering is to allow it to disrupt our comfort and assumptions. Compassion has a way of rearranging priorities and exposing our own vulnerabilities. The Bible does not hide this cost. Jesus is described as being “moved with compassion,” a phrase that implies deep emotional disturbance. Yet He embraces this movement, knowing that love always carries the risk of pain. In doing so, He reveals that transformation—both ours and others’—often begins where compassion unsettles us.

Despite these very human resistances, Scripture never lowers the call to compassion. Instead, it grounds that call in God’s own character. “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful,” Jesus says in Luke 6:36. Compassion is not presented as a personality trait reserved for a few, but as a way of life shaped by relationship with God. The apostle Paul urges believers to “clothe yourselves with compassion” (Colossians 3:12), suggesting an intentional, daily choice.

Ultimately, the Bible does not invite us into compassion without offering hope. God does not ask His people to enter suffering alone. He goes before them, dwelling among the broken, bearing wounds Himself, and promising that love poured out is never wasted. Compassion, even when resisted, becomes an act of trust—trust that God is at work in places we would rather avoid, and that in loving others, we are slowly being shaped into the likeness of Christ.

On the journey of growth with you,

Dan

Dan Scarrow

District Superintendent