Throughout Jesus' ministry, he was repeatedly moved with compassion by the circumstances of others, and it was from that place of care and concern that he acted in response to their needs.
So what can we learn from Jesus’ example?
In Luke 10, Jesus tells the story of a man who was beaten, robbed, and left for dead. A priest sees him and passes by. A Levite sees him and does the same. But when a Samaritan comes upon the man, he sees his suffering and stops. He tends to his wounds. He carries him to an inn. He pays for his care.
Jesus ends the story with a simple command: “Go and do likewise.”
The Samaritan didn't simply recognize that someone was hurting. He allowed what he saw to move him toward that person.
And that gives us a picture of what it can look like to be rooted in the compassion of Christ.
In our latest podcast episode Johanna Lohrmann joins Tim Shuck to explore what it means to become a Compassionate Witness to the people God places in our lives.
Together, Tim and Johanna explore the difference between having the right answers and faithfully entering someone's story. They talk about listening for the Holy Spirit, resisting comparison, remembering the names and stories of those who are hurting, and discovering that witnessing to someone in their suffering can itself be a form of discipleship.
Ready to listen to the full episode? Scroll down to access our embedded player OR stream the conversation wherever you enjoy your podcasts (Apple, Spotify, YouTube, etc.)
Compassion Sees and Acts
It's easy to read the story of the Good Samaritan and focus on the extraordinary nature of the Samaritan's actions. But Johanna Lohrmann noticed something more basic in Jesus' teaching.
The greatest commandment is to love God and love our neighbor. And in Jesus' picture of that love, we see something remarkably practical: seeing someone in distress, recognizing their pain and suffering, and going out of our way to care for them.
Love doesn't always look like a grand gesture.
Sometimes it looks like stopping. Sometimes it looks like listening. Sometimes it looks like bringing a meal, remembering someone's name, praying with them, or simply staying when it would be easier to keep walking.
The expert in the law knew the right answer. But Jesus' story showed him that knowing the answer and living the answer are two different things. Following Jesus isn't simply about knowing what is true. It's about allowing what we know about him to shape how we live.
And that's where compassionate witness begins.
We Learn Compassion by Receiving It
Johanna knows what it is like to be on the receiving end of that kind of compassion.
In 2020, her family experienced the unexpected loss of their youngest child, Elizabeth Joy. In the aftermath, Johanna encountered stories from other grieving parents who had been met with explanations, theological answers, or attempts to make meaning out of their loss before they were ready.
But her family experienced something different. People didn't try to fix their grief. They didn't rush them toward the next stage. They entered the loss with them. They wept. They grieved. They prayed. They helped with practical needs. They showed up. Through those people, Johanna experienced something of the compassion of Christ.
She describes those acts of compassion as deeply healing and says she probably wouldn't have the faith story she has today without the people who were willing to become like the Samaritan in her own story.
That matters because compassionate witness isn't something we manufacture through our own strength. We become people who can extend compassion because we have first received the compassion of Christ.
Compassion Doesn't Rush the Story
When someone is hurting, our instinct can be to fix the situation. We want to find the right words. We want to explain what God is doing. We want to offer a verse, give some perspective, or help someone see the bigger picture. But sometimes the most faithful thing we can do is resist that impulse.
Johanna reflects on how the people around her allowed her family to grieve without trying to make quick meaning out of their loss. Their presence honored the reality of what had happened while still participating in God's work of healing.
That kind of presence requires humility.
We don't have to understand someone's story in order to enter it with compassion. We don't have to have experienced the exact same kind of suffering. And we don't have to believe that we can be the solution. Instead, we can recognize that God deeply cares for the person in front of us and ask how he is inviting us to participate.
Our Stories Can Become Places of Witness
One of the most powerful ideas in Johanna's story is that our own experiences of suffering can become places from which compassion flows toward others. Not because our stories are identical. Not because we've earned some special qualification to help. But because we have encountered God in our own places of pain.
Johanna describes knowing the God who has brought her through dark places, and that knowledge gives her confidence that God can meet someone else in theirs. Our wounds don't have to disqualify us from being witnesses.
In Christ, even suffering can become part of the story we carry with us as we enter the stories of others.
Johanna closes the episode with the image of the resurrected Jesus still bearing the wounds of his crucifixion. His resurrection victory is complete, yet his wounds remain. Thomas encounters those wounds, and his faith is restored.
Jesus is not distant from human suffering. He has entered it. He has overcome it. And he continues to intercede for us as the One who knows what it is to suffer. That gives us a picture of compassionate witness: not pretending suffering isn't real, but entering it with the presence and hope of Christ.
Featured Guest
Johanna holds a Masters in Ministry from Richmont University and has served in a variety of ministry contexts within Novo, including developing early teachings around prayer walking and reclaiming spiritual territory. She currently serves on Novo’s Mobilization team in addition to working as a seventh grade tutor with Ingleside. Johanna and her husband, Simeon, live in Chattanooga with their three children.