One of my favorite past times is people watching. It’s like reality television, but without the manufactured story lines that come with finely tuned editing and various levels of scripting. Out in the wild, people are just living life. And that, in and of itself, provides plenty to see for those who are paying attention.
Last week, I spent a day on a Florida beach. While I try to focus my attention on the various natural components of the beach environment, it’s hard not to get distracted and drawn in by the various dramas that play out when you’re sitting in a veritable sea of people. On that sunny day, my attention was drawn to a group of young people off to my right.
I want to say they were playing a game of catch with a football, but really, they were playing a game of throw; There was not much catching taking place.
While relatively fit, this group was not particularly athletically inclined. I want to say they were playing a game of catch with a football, but really, they were playing a game of throw; There was not much catching taking place. With each drop of the ball, they lamented their lack of ability and inched closer to the shoreline, ultimately making their way into the water. I could see the likely end of this game coming as one of the young men encouraged his friend to “go deep.” The young man obliged until he could go no “deeper” without drowning. The fellow on the shore then pulled back and heaved the ball as hard as he could and for the first time that day threw a perfect spiral that sailed over the waiting hands of his buddy in the water. The young man in the water looked at the ball floating in the distance, turned around, and walked back up to shore. The group then watched as their ball floated off into the horizon. Had one of them cried “WILSON” with the pained anguish of losing a dear friend, it could have served as a fitting reenactment from Tom Hanks’ Castaway.
I confess, my initial thoughts at the loss of their ball were less than compassionate. Their little game was not well-contained and their lack of ability resulted in encroachment into the space of surrounding beach-goers. My first instinct was to laugh at their misfortune while stating, “Serves them right!” under my breath. My self-righteousness was quickly replaced by shame as I realized that rather than watching I could and should have helped them.
Too often, I fear we see those around us as problems to be solved rather than as people to be served.
It’s a relatively small thing. Watching a football float off into the distance isn’t anything to lose sleep over, but it does make me wonder: How often do we watch the people around us and see their struggle and say and do nothing to help? Do we mutter under our breath that they are getting what they deserve? Are we eager to remove the inconvenience of their presence from our space? Too often, I fear we see those around us as problems to be solved rather than as people to be served. Rather than seeing people as being in need of compassion and kindness, we see them as being deserving of condescension and condemnation.
Jesus saw things differently, though. I’m struck with how often we read these words in the gospels: “When He saw the crowds, He had compassion on them…” It was Jesus’s default response to seeing the people that crossed His path. When considering the people and culture of His day, Jesus didn’t lament their lack of propriety, he lamented their lack of godly and caring leaders to guide them and care for them in the midst of their struggles. Christ came, not to condemn the world, but to compassionately and graciously care for the hurting, the helpless, and those in need of hope (John 3:16-17). Which, last time I checked, is all of us.
Christ came, not to condemn the world, but to compassionately and graciously care for the hurting, the helpless, and those in need of hope.
There are plenty of people in our world whose stories play out right before our eyes. Do we see them? Do we feel empathy and sympathy for the struggles they are facing? Are we willing, like Jesus, to love them sacrificially? Or, do we see them as an inconvenience and unworthy of our compassion and care? Jesus invites us to step up and serve as caretakers of those He died to save. May we see them and serve them with the compassionate grace of Jesus in order that they might see Jesus and find salvation.
