Nancy Jenkins is a member at Grace Lutheran Church in Andover. One of her pastors, Joanna Mitchell, is the dean of the Rum River Conference and asked her to write this month’s deans blog. She is a part of the mental health team, the strategic dream team, and has participated in Faith Practices and Neighboring Practices.
By Nancy Jenkins
Member at Grace Lutheran, Andover
Rum River Conference Blog
Since most of you don’t know me, I will start by sharing that often I experience something and then later learn that it’s actually “something”. I often stumble my way upon some gem of wisdom – something that works for me or is even seemingly a universal pattern – and then later I read a quote or book by an expert and think, “I have already experienced this!” Looking at people with eyes of compassion is one of these practices in my life.
This practice started during the early days Covid as I sat at a long traffic light. I looked to my right and saw a middle-aged woman eating a banana while she too waited for the light to turn green. Something about that moment – that woman – caught my attention and I breathed a prayer. What was she facing in life? And I felt something gently well up inside of me: compassion. In the four years since that moment, I have thought of this woman many times and breathed a simple prayer for her well-being. Compassion remains.
I thought about the times in Scripture when Jesus practiced compassion.
“When the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her.” (Luke 7:13)
“When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them.” (Matthew 9:36)
Pastor Joanna serving communion
At some point in my journey, I started doing this practice as I sat in my pew during communion. I started to look at each person as they moved across the front of the sanctuary to receive their wine and bread. I would look at them, individually and intentionally, with what I call “eyes of compassion,” allowing my brain to acknowledge whatever story I might know about them and to allow my heart to feel whatever emotions were present.
“There is my friend, Anne who lost her son.” And I would look at her with eyes of compassion and feel the grief, her grief.
“There is Mary, whose husband was recently diagnosed with cancer.” More compassion.
Yes, often I would be moved to tears during this practice. But more so, my whole being felt compassion for the other person.
Of course, not every person at our church is facing hardship and so there were different moments of compassion.
“There is Joan whose daughter lives a long ways away,” and “there is that family with three busy young children; they are so amazing!”
And so I invite you to practice looking at people with eyes of compassion. This practice doesn’t have to be confined to a church. You can practice this while sitting in an airport or at a stoplight or at any moment in your daily life. Look at someone intentionally, allow the thoughts and feelings to arise, and pay attention. What do you notice? What remains?