Devotionals Detail

Reading: Matthew 14:13-23

Compassion fatigue is a real phenomenon. 87% of people in relationally high-stress jobs in healthcare, social work, and caregiving have it. Compassion fatigue is a constant sense of depletion. It’s when we have given so much to the needs of others that we are running on empty. The integers are negative, and multiplying fast. Compassion fatigue can cause us to feel like we are going through the day on fumes. Our patience can run out, making us snap at small things in a constant sense of frustration. It can make us question if our work matters in a tiredness that is not relieved with sleep. A loss of joy in hobbies or activities occurs when compassion fatigue doesn’t allow you the energy to give to friends, family, or co-workers. I know. I’ve experienced it. Perhaps you have too.

It is because compassion literally means – splagchnizomai – an ancient Greek word meaning explosion in your gut. In other words, true compassion is a deep, physical reaction when seeing the suffering of another. And it is how Jesus felt when he saw people in need. On the one hand, it’s comforting to know Jesus feels our pain. On the other hand, it makes sense why having a daily gut explosion would make us feel tired.

I think that is why, in this passage of Scripture, Jesus turns to his disciples and says, “You give them something to eat.” In other words, it’s time to delegate. Because if Jesus is fully human, that means he has limits. Maybe even he had a bit of compassion fatigue. If we do the math for this point in Matthew’s gospel: Jesus’ reputation for healing is now drawing thousands of people. Looking at that crowd, and the energy required for their healing could be daunting. I believe there is a lesson in why Jesus turns to his disciples and says: “You give them something to eat.” It’s just the plain math of Jesus saying: “I need your help here. I’m tired, and I can’t do this alone.”

So the disciples gather up what they have, and it is enough: some loaves of bread and fish that give Jesus a starting point. Why would Jesus need these minimal provisions? Maybe in Jesus' full humanity, he needed some encouragement that he didn’t have to do it all on his own. Maybe in his holy power, it helped him conserve his “superpower multiplication energy?” Maybe he just was overwhelmed by the 1: 5,000 men ratio. I don’t know for sure, but I do know this. Whenever I start to feel compassion fatigue, it’s time to delegate. That means I look around and ask the question: “Is this really mine to do?” Or am I over-functioning, and I can let this go? Or “Could someone else experience deeper meaning and value of this and can do it just as well as I can?” Because being the body of Christ means

we all share in the compassionate needs of one another and hold the burdens together, so no one person has to feel all the gut explosions.

I dare to say that with all the concerns of the world being told to us on a minute-by-minute basis, compassion fatigue is more common now than ever before. But the good news is that Jesus gets us. As we bring to Him what we have: our symbolic loaves and fishes, we trust that what Jesus does with it is enough. So perhaps our faith journey is about bringing what we have, and letting Jesus do the multiplying the way He needs it done, so we aren’t so depleted in the math of compassion fatigue.