Compassionate Care

Sermon: October 26, 2025 . Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of San Dieguito

Growing up, I always admired women who were considered graceful. I specifically remember seeing pictures of Princess Diana and thinking that I wanted to grow up to embody her graceful beauty. Because she and I share the same birthday, I thought we might have had a special connection and that embodying her grace was a legitimate possibility. As a young child, I didn’t realize that what I was admiring wasn’t her physical beauty, but her inner beauty. The most beautiful images of Princess Diana are the ones that captured her visiting with leprosy and AIDS patients, sitting with them and holding their hands despite their illnesses, or actively feeding refugees and holding starving children in Zimbabwe. She was unafraid of the suffering. She walked towards those who needed help. Now I realize that what made her graceful and beautiful was her compassion. In her article “What we can all learn from Princess Diana,” Alena Kate Pettitt says that “Compassion is the best character trait you can possess.”

This last weekend, 6 UUFSD families traveled with Casas De Luz to build a house in Tijuana for a family in need. At the end of the build, when we handed over the key for the house to the family, we each shared a thought about our time together that weekend. The family thanked us for showing so much compassion, but it’s really those of us who worked hard over that weekend who should be thanking them. We were gifted an unbelievable experience and I feel that I took away from that experience so much more than I gave and I am so unbelievably grateful that my children could experience what it feels like to show that level of compassion. But you don’t have to build a house for someone to show compassion. You can act compassionately in small ways all throughout your day. 

Two days ago at Costco I was maneuvering a very full cart through the parking lot and I lost a large package of toilet paper from the bottom of my cart without realizing it. I heard a woman’s voice call to me from quite far away and when I turned, she was holding up the toilet paper, asking me if I had lost it. Meanwhile, there was an older woman standing nearby with her cart, in the middle of the road watching, looking slightly confused. I thanked the woman and while I was returning the toilet paper to my cart, I saw her then turn to the older woman and ask, “Are you ok? Do you need help?” and I thought: this stranger in the Costco parking lot is holding our whole world together. 

Compassion is witnessing, acknowledging, sometimes helping, sometimes fighting, sometimes holding, sometimes resting. Always being present, always listening. Some of the most powerful ways to show compassion is in simple words like, “I believe you”... “Are you ok?”... “I see how much you’re hurting.”... “It’s okay to feel how you feel.” Compassion can be shown by actions that aren’t directly related to another person. It can be shown by protecting safe spaces, seeking to minimize harm on other groups of people, voting.

Sometimes you might feel you have to choose with whom your compassion should reside. For example, how do you simultaneously show compassion to a victim and a bully? Is there room for compassion toward both?  We currently live in a world where many people claim to be the victim, even people on opposing sides of the same issue might both claim to be the victim. And we often determine via our individual or group moral compasses which side really is the victim, and which is the bully. Then we use that moral compass to justify where we show our compassion. Ideally, we’d be able to show compassion for both sides. For the side of the victim compassion might look like helping or fighting. For the side of the bully, compassion might look like tolerance or maintaining respect for their human lives and their human rights despite their actions. For example, standing on the side of life and not supporting the death penalty is an act of compassion for those whose actions you may simultaneously condemn. Maintaining a sense of invaluable human rights for all is an act of compassion. 

Showing compassion for marginalized groups of people can involve social action, protests, speaking out, and even combat. Some of us struggle with feeling brave enough to show this kind of compassion as it feels that it can involve risk, either emotional or physical. As someone who has a trans son, I admit that there is a part of me that hesitates to take public action in this political climate because I don’t want to draw attention to my child. At the same time, I will protect his rights and well-being fiercely. In my instance, I must balance the compassion I show as a parent with the compassion I show as an ally for a larger cause and that balance will shift over time as my son grows, finds his way in the world, and relies less on me. I’m sure you have similar areas of your own life where you balance your compassions and your actions. 

Michael Josephson says “The way we treat others is about who we are, not who they are.” Compassion really is a reflection of ourselves and the people we want to be. It is the embodiment of the Golden Rule, perhaps the most famous quote from the Bible, Matthew 7:12 "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” a concept which began long before that through the honor codes of Ancient Arabia, the philosophies of the Ancient Greeks, the Pahlavi Texts of Ancient Persia, and even through a parable from Ancient Egypt called “The Eloquent Peasant,” which dates back to 1850 BC. The pervasiveness of the request to be compassionate is why we call it “the Golden Rule” as it is a fundamental principle for all people, of all religions, for all of humanity. Be compassionate. 

There is a new movement currently spreading through our culture, one that has catapulted the word “empathy” to the forefront of behavioral health therapy, parenting, and even politics. We are told that sociopaths are practically everywhere, these people who lack empathy and are unable to feel the emotions that so often encourage us to treat each other with respect and dignity. People are encouraged to be more empathetic, to try and feel the feelings of others, to put yourself in their shoes, to understand their plights. While this is a good practice and comes more naturally to some than others, it can be exhausting work. It can make your heart heavy and that weight can cause fatigue over time, which behavioral health experts call “compassion fatigue.” However, this is a mislabeled experience as compassion is seeing and acknowledging someone’s suffering, and taking action, which makes you a conduit, transforming the energy of the suffering into something positive. “Compassion fatigue” should really be called “empathy fatigue,” for empathy encourages us to hold the suffering inside of ourselves to better understand it. However, compassion is not exhausting because it allows for the emotional space needed to fuel both the suffering and the observer. With compassion, one witnesses and acknowledges the suffering of the other, and offers care, all while keeping their emotional boundaries in place. Prentis Hemphill is an embodiment coach who believes that self-transformation is the key to reshaping our world toward justice. In their book, “What it takes to heal,” Hemphill says that “Boundaries are the distance at which I can love you and me simultaneously.” Maintaining an emotional distance and knowing the difference between compassion and empathy is what enables us to do the hard and continuous work of caring for others. Acting compassionately can even fuel us, because let’s face it, helping people feels good. Being useful feels good. Seeing the difference you can make in other people’s lives feels good. The Dalai Lama writes “If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion.”

It seems like a simple concept, but it is one we have to practice. Often our compassion is thwarted by our desire to change reality and our ineffectiveness in doing so. It is hard to be compassionate when we are frustrated by the actions of others or when they are hurting us or taking advantage of us. That is when emotional distance is needed, and creating that emotional distance is actually an act of compassion for yourself. Even in those times, you are balancing the needs of all and choosing compassion. Compassion for others begins with compassion for yourself, which we are reminded of every time we fly and the flight attendant tells us that we must first put our oxygen mask on ourselves before we turn to help others. Self-reflection and self-acceptance set the stage for compassionate actions. It is when that work is done that you are then able to look elsewhere, perceive the suffering of others, and act accordingly. 

Compassion has the power to heal the world, if wielded often, consistently, and by all. We can only start with ourselves, by the way we react to the world around us. And whether we are Princess Diana, or the woman in the Costco parking lot, or someone who needs to turn inward and show compassion to themself, every act of compassion rekindles a flame that is in danger of being blown out. Every act transfers the spark of spirit from one person to another. In every act is the presence of the divine. May you be that spark. Today, tomorrow, and always. Amen.

OTHER READINGS FOR REFLECTION:

Reverend Scott Tayler, “Come Into This Circle”

Come into this circle of compassion and care. 

Bring your worry and wounds, 

your longings and hopes. 

With word and song, 

we rekindle the connection 

that mends what’s been torn. 

With stillness and the space to pause, 

we restore our strength 

for the work that must be done. 

The work of love. 

The work of peace. 

The work of repair. 

The work of remembering we are not alone. 

Let us begin.

Albert Schweitzer, from the UU hymnal

“At times, our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.”

"Generous Assumptions" by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

I would like to open my heart to you

and keep it open, but the truth is

sometimes all it takes is a glance,

or the lack of a glance, or a certain tone,

or a serrated word, and instantly the heart

puts on its armor, which is something like

a coat of porcupine quills, only

the quills go inward, too, and the instant

I wear it, I am aware of how much it hurts

to wear it. How in that moment when I seek

to protect myself, I wound myself.

What if I believed you are doing the best you can

considering the forces that have shaped you?

What if I listened past your words, looked through

your actions to see how you, too, feel threatened?

The Buddha said we are always moving

toward or away from freedom.

Could I, in that moment before the prickly coat

has started doing its prickly work,

could I move toward freedom

by refusing to put it on? Could I choose instead

the silken robe of generous assumptions,

the one that allows for compassion, connection,

even kindness toward you, toward myself?

Already, just thinking about it being possible,

I notice a softening, a curiosity about how I might

change not you, but myself. Already, I feel

how fluid this robe is, how gently it swirls around me,

how strong its fibers are, how freeing it is, cool

and breezy, this gift to myself.