One week ago we were preparing to greet an unwelcome visitor: Alfred.

When we arrived in S.E. Qld 35 years ago, within only two weeks we were warned of the approach of Cyclone Nancy.
“Really, you get many cyclones here?” I asked. “Sure, all the time,” some told us. Which wasn’t true – it had been 16 years since the last cyclone to hit this area.
As it turned out, Nancy turned away at the last minute. So, till this past week, I had never been through a cyclone.

As a result, I had little idea what to do to prepare and at first was not much concerned – even got out to take some “before” photos as the sea got whipped up. But the longer Alfred, like the irresponsible surfers, played around out at sea, and, like a rude guest, kept putting off his scheduled arrival on our doorstep, the more I started to become anxious.

We did what we could: checked for batteries, charged our tiny power banks, filled the bath with water, had some food in the house. But it was too late to top up our gas bottles: those cluey enough had gone earlier in the week, and there was none left.

Then it hit. Well, it didn’t at first: Alfred was still enjoying himself keeping us waiting. But it became too dangerous to venture outside; so we hunkered down to wait it out.

On Thursday evening the power went out. This was earlier than we expected: I believe Coolangatta was among the first (of 330,000 homes) to lose power: we were told it “could be a week or more” before power was restored. No power. So, no cooking, limited hot water for showers and washing up, power banks quickly draining to keep our phones alive, food starting to get low, and some food starting to spoil without refrigeration. Got the camping stove going, but gas was getting low.

And little to do. Though my laptop was fully charged, I didn’t want to use it unnecessarily in case this went on too long. Could only read for so long. Couldn’t go out and visit, or go for a walk. It was like Covid V.2. The wind and the rain, when it came, was unrelenting: 700 mm in a few days.

Thankfully, by Saturday night we could venture out to visit family – though very cautiously, as the wind was still wild.

Then, Sunday lunch time (after only three days, not even one week) the power came back on. Cheers rang out in Coolangatta streets. Apartments lining the beachfront were filled with people coming out on to balconies whistling and celebrating the return of electricity.

However…

Realistically, we were never in great danger. We live in a solid concrete unit, with three units between us and the prevailing wind direction; we even had a sheltered alcove outside our back door where we could cook on the camp stove. And we have a unit above us, before you reach the roof (in case that disappeared). We were thankful to be sheltered and safe.
And we had enough food in the end, enough gas, and managed to nurse our phones through the whole period and keep them alive.

Yet at night, lying in bed, there was one thought that kept me awake. And that was those who were so much worse off.
And I don’t mean just in this area. Because even those worse off in this area are still better off than so many in the world – like those in Gaza and Ukraine (to mention just two of the more than 100 conflict zones in this troubled world today).

As I lay awake, listening to the wind building and waiting for the full force of the cyclone to hit, I thought how dreadful it is for those in Ukraine, waiting each night for three years as they listen anxiously for the sound of incoming Russian bombs and drones targeting civilian populations.

And as I thought about the weather outside, and food running low, I couldn’t even imagine what it must be like for those in Gaza, freezing in the night, and watching children waste away through malnutrition. And then, on Sunday night Israel cut off the last electricity supply to Gaza.

I know, I am painfully aware, that what we have gone through over this past week is nothing compared to the inhuman conditions my fellow human beings, made in the image of God, are experiencing in war zones like Ukraine and Gaza.

But it gave me a taste.
I felt a glimmer of empathy.

“One thing is needful…”

It reminded me of something I have become increasingly aware of, both in my years in full time ministry and since. And that is, the one thing needful in Christian Leadership is: Empathy.

Among all those virtues I wish I had excelled in more, most of all is empathy. As a leader in the church I wish I had exercised more empathy. In our marriage, this is where I have most come short, in showing empathy to my wife. With family. With others.

And in my experience over the years, this is where I have observed most in Christian leadership need to improve. So many Christian leaders are diligent, busy preparing sermons, giving pastoral advice, setting goals for growth, aiming to build churches.
Yet, more often than not, I hear Jesus say, not unkindly: “You are careful and busy about many things. But one thing is needful…”

The one thing needful in Christian Leadership: Empathy

Good leadership flourishes where there is a good relationship. And empathy is at the heart of any good relationship.

You may be aware of the distinction between “sympathy” and “empathy”. If you want to use etymology (not always a reliable way to find a definition, but it seems to work in this case):
– Sympathy (and its Latinised form, Compassion) is feeling with, or for, a person to get alongside and help them.
– Empathy means to feel what another is actually feeling, to feel as though inside the other person; you put yourself in their shoes.

Empathy is: “I feel what you feel.” Sympathy/Compassion is: “I know you’re in pain. I care about that, and I want to remediate the pain.”
Sympathy which leads to action is important. But you still need empathy to drive your compassion for those you lead if you are to lead well. You need to be able to get into the shoes of each one, in his or her struggles. You need to enter into a “fellow-feeling” with them.

We see this with Jesus: “We have not an high priest who cannot be touched with the feeling [1] of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin.” (Heb 4:15, KJV).

Or Paul: “We were gentle among you, just as a nursing mother cherishes her own children… You know how we exhorted, and comforted, and charged every one of you, as a father does his own children” (1 Thes 2:7,11).

One thing is needful…: “Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.” (1 Cor 13:1-2)

Why is empathy so hard?

There are different circumstances under which it can be increasingly difficult to be empathetic:

1. Those in caring professions can sometimes develop a thick skin in order to survive. Eg. Nurses in hospitals cannot afford to fall apart every time a patient they care for goes downhill, or dies.
So we learn coping mechanisms by distancing ourselves from the pain of those we care for, in order to remain objective and be strong for those who need our help.

2. Following on from this, another reason (according to Dr. David DeSteno) is our limited capacity for empathy. We become “numb to the numbers” when there are a large number  at one time, under our care, going through a hard time.

3. Then, of course, we do not naturally feel empathy towards those who, we believe, are treating us unfairly. When we feel vulnerable, we instinctively think only of protecting ourselves.
Let me be clear here that I am speaking to those in positions of power or authority. While it is still helpful for those under someone else’s power or authority to feel empathy for those over them in the stresses they too face, I am not suggesting that where there is obvious and cruel abuse (eg. a battered wife) that the victim should focus on feeling empathy towards the aggressor.
But if you are in a position of power or authority, you should still try to empathise with those treating you unfairly even though you need to go on and correct them:
“A servant of the Lord must not quarrel but be gentle to all, able to teach, patient, in humility correcting those who are in opposition, if God perhaps will grant them repentance, so that they may know the truth, and that they may come to their senses and escape the snare of the devil, having been taken captive by him to do his will.” (2 Tim 2:24-26)

4. Sadly, a common reason those in leadership fail to show empathy is because they are so goal focused they don’t see people: people become just means to their end. Yes, even in the ministry.
That end may be a bigger church, a “successful” ministry, or just to prove their pet thesis that this is how to do it, this is what works.

“Empathy is dead”

As I was preparing this post, someone from our family (who knew nothing of what I was writing at the time) sent me an opinion piece by Julia Baird.
I will wrap this up with some excerpts. For those who want to read the whole article it is available here.

Elon Musk is wrong. To spurn empathy is to spur evil

Empathy is dead, apparently. It’s dangerous, toxic, sinful and, I guess, uncool.

When Elon Musk told Joe Rogan this week that “the fundamental weakness of Western civilisation is empathy”, he was not just outlining his approach to government “efficiency” in slashing foreign aid programs and his dislike of social security, nor his own lack of empathy as detailed by his biographer Walter Isaacson. He was aligning himself with a burgeoning hard-right movement that insists people must steel their hearts against stories of pain or loss or suffering for fear of being manipulated.

And, in further evidence that Americans are now inhabiting topsy-turvy land, this movement is being led by extremist Christians. As The New York Times’ David French, himself a conservative evangelical, points out, “in its most extreme political faction” the Republican Christian right “is turning against empathy itself”.

It’s a noisy faction, regularly consumed with power, that is mounting an argument that love – especially love for strangers – is a distraction. Which is confusing to anyone who has actually read the Bible…

Christian nationalist pastor Josh McPherson says the word needs to be struck out of the vocabulary because “empathy is dangerous, empathy is toxic, empathy will align you with hell”. He also says, while acknowledging “this will be controversial”, that “women are especially vulnerable” to empathy and that husbands should exercise control over who their wives spend time with. Sounds fun…

None of these anti-empathy guys quote the actual Bible to make their point. Just some bro-feels. I do agree that there is an interesting, important discussion to be had about whether a focus on empathy (as understanding what another person feels) can undermine compassion (understanding what another person needs, and working out how to provide it)…

But this recent swing against empathy has been not about how best to help people, how best to alleviate suffering, but how to de-prioritise alleviating that suffering, and mute the voices of the dispossessed. Few would accept that in the interests of power, the least powerful must be forgotten.

If I could include just a small sample of what the Bible actually says on empathy: “Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15). “But whoever has this world’s goods, and sees his brother in need, and shuts up his heart from him, how does the love of God abide in him?” (1 John 3:17) “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you” (John 15:12). “Whoever closes his ear to the cry of the poor will himself call out and not be answered” (Proverbs 21:13)…

Has Musk forgotten what it is to be human? Or that history shows empathy knits societies together? That it leads people to volunteer, an act which then boosts their mental health? That kids who have low empathy are more likely to bully?

Or what happens when we ignore pain and mute the cries of the suffering?

Psychologist Gustave Gilbert, who interviewed Nazi leaders during the Nuremberg trials, said after all his work examining the psyches of those who committed the most horrendous acts of World War II that he had come close to finding a definition of the nature of evil: “It’s the one characteristic that connects all the defendants,” he said. “A genuine incapacity to feel with their fellow man. Evil, I think, is the absence of empathy.”

[1] I am aware the Greek here is sympatheo, but I am persuaded that, rather than simply transliterating it as “sympathy”, the meaning is closer to “empathy”.