I’d like to think that my sermons help inspire you to greater and greater acts of compassion.  Apparently, I’ve been fooling myself. What shapes our readiness to act with compassion is something quite different.  A podcast of a German radio program (SWR2 Wissen) provided this summary:

A number of seminary students were divided into two groups.  One group was asked to read the parable of the Good Samaritan.  The other group got to read something neutral, like instructions on the workings of a washing machine.  Then they were told to go to a nearby building to complete the second part of the task. They were given directions, but divided into three separate groups.  The first group was told: “You have 15 minutes before the start of the next test. Take your time and relax as you head on over.” The second group heard: “As soon as you get to the new building the test will resume.”  And the third group was instructed: “We took a little longer than anticipated to complete the first part of the test. Please hurry and make sure you go straight to the other building. Our colleagues are waiting for you already.”

The real test of the study was that between the two buildings sat an old man, hunched over.  The moment a student walked by he started to convulse coughing. The study focused on who paused to help.  Turns out it made zero difference whether the person had read about a washing machine or the Good Samaritan just moments earlier.  The only thing that mattered was whether the student was in a hurry and felt stressed or not. Those without stress felt compassion and tended to act on their compassionate impulse.  Those who felt the stress of having no time did not.

The results of the study so resonate with me.  Way too many times I have encountered situations that called for a compassionate response – a car broken down at the side of the road, a person upset nearby, an animal potentially hurt – and I choose to pass by without pausing because I am in a hurry or already feel stressed dealing with some other situation.

Sounds like my sermons ought to focus less on inspiring compassion – we already have that impulse embedded.  Rather, we seem to need reminders to create spaces within the flow of our daily lives, to pace ourselves whether at work, at home, or anywhere else in ways that allow compassion to surface and manifest.  For a more compassionate world, we need a less hurried world. For a more compassionate self, we need schedules that allow our hearts to pursue what they aspire to do.

In the words Jeanne Ann Whittington shared on December 15th:  May we pause – breathe – and open as we begin the coming year.  Pause – Breathe – Open. Again and again.