Seeing Ourselves in the Ditch
by Rich Pérez
The Path In-Between
Imagine a dusty road, winding through sunbaked hills. This is the path between Jerusalem and Jericho, notorious for thieves and danger. A man walks alone, his journey abruptly cut short by violence. Left for dead, he lies on the side of the road, a solitary figure in a vast landscape.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a theologian who stared into the eyes of evil, reminds us: “We must learn to regard people less in the light of what they do or omit to do, and more in the light of what they suffer.”
Compassion, Jesus teaches us, is the bridge that allows us to see ourselves in each other. In the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), we encounter three travelers on this perilous road. Two, a priest and a Levite, see the wounded man but continue on their way. Their reasons might seem valid—religious restrictions, a tight schedule. But their actions reveal a deeper truth: they’ve chosen a comfortable distance from suffering.
Then comes the Samaritan. Unlike the others, he doesn’t just see the man; he is moved with compassion. The word itself is a tapestry woven from two threads: “com” meaning with, and “passion” meaning to suffer. Compassion is to enter into another’s pain, to feel it alongside them.
A Willing Disruption
The Samaritan’s journey, his own destination, becomes less important than the suffering stranger. He takes a detour, a willing disruption in his plans. This detour is a powerful metaphor for compassion. It reminds us that true love often requires us to veer off course, to step outside our agendas and routines.
Have we, like the priest and Levite, made life choices that keep us at a safe distance from the pain of others? Busyness, social circles, even religious obligations can create a comfortable numbness to the suffering around us. We become experts at “seeing” without truly seeing, missing the vulnerability that connects us all.
The Samaritan “came up to him.” This simple act speaks volumes. Proximity allows him to see the man not just as a victim, but as a whole person—wounded, yes, but deserving of care. Perhaps in that moment, the Samaritan recognizes a reflection of himself. He, too, knows what it means to be ostracized, to be on the margins.
Compassion at its Core
Jesus, in his radical wisdom, chooses a Samaritan as the hero. This is no accident. Samaritans were considered outcasts by the Jews. They understood rejection, the sting of being “other.” This shared experience allows the Samaritan to see himself in the wounded man, to identify with his suffering.
Compassion, at its core, is about this recognition. It’s the spark of empathy that ignites when we see a piece of ourselves in another’s struggle. The brokenness we witness might be theirs today, but it could be ours tomorrow. This shared humanity is the wellspring of true compassion.
The Bible tells us in Jeremiah 31:20, “my inner being yearns for him; I will truly have compassion on him.” God’s love is a wellspring of compassion, an overflowing reservoir of care for his children. Just as a mother feels a visceral connection to her suffering child, so too does God yearn for us.
A Pastoral Reminder
Compassion is not a duty, but a natural response, an echo of God within us. May we open our hearts, step off the well-worn path, and take the detour of compassion. For in that act of seeing another’s suffering, we see not just them, but a reflection of ourselves, and ultimately, a glimpse of the divine love that binds us all.
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