Empathy
- Sarah Trent
- 6 days ago
- 2 min read
Empathy is not the fruit of the Spirit. Paul does not list it in Galatians 5. Instead, he speaks of love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance. Why? Because empathy, in its modern sense, is not the same as love. It is not compassion. It is not mercy. Those are holy virtues rooted in the character of God. Empathy, as culture defines it, is something altogether different—an emotional mirroring that often entangles us in feelings that are not anchored to truth.
Love compels us to act for another’s good, even if it costs us. Compassion moves us to enter another’s pain and extend mercy. Mercy withholds judgment and offers grace. But empathy? Empathy insists we feel what someone else feels, whether that feeling is righteous or rooted in deception, sin, or rebellion against God.
Jesus never once told His disciples, “Feel what others feel.” Instead, He commanded, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” He taught truth wrapped in compassion. He spoke forgiveness with authority, and He demanded repentance. Consider the woman caught in adultery: He did not empathize with her sin by affirming her brokenness. He forgave her, yes—but He also commanded, “Go, and sin no more.” That is not empathy. That is truth-guided compassion, holy love that heals and transforms.
And here lies the danger: empathy, unchecked, can become toxic. When the church bows to the cultural demand to “empathize with everyone,” it often means surrendering truth on the altar of feelings. We are told to empathize with gender ideology, with lawlessness, with sin itself—or else be branded unkind, judgmental, or bigoted. Empathy becomes the Trojan horse by which compromise is wheeled into the sanctuary.
Love speaks truth even when it stings. Love says, “I will not abandon you to your sin, even if my words offend you.” Empathy says, “I will feel what you feel—even if it is built on a lie—and I will affirm it, so you feel comfortable.” One path leads to transformation. The other, to destruction.
The church does not need more empathy. The church needs more love—love that is courageous enough to confront, bold enough to speak truth, and tender enough to extend mercy. We need more Spirit-born fruit: joy that is unshaken by circumstance, peace that guards the heart, patience that endures, kindness that is rooted in strength, goodness that reflects God’s holiness, faithfulness that will not waver, gentleness that carries weight, and self-control that resists the tide.
The world clamors for emotional mirroring. But heaven is calling for Spirit-empowered living. The hour is too late and the stakes too high to trade the truth of God for the fragile comfort of empathy. Let us not be a church that echoes the feelings of the lost but one that reflects the light of Christ—burning with love, anchored in truth, and alive with the power of the Spirit.
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