To Do More Than Feel ©
Reverend Janet Parsons
Gloucester UU Church
October 5, 2025

One thing that has taken me completely by surprise in recent months has been a growing awareness that many voices on the political right are adamantly opposed to the moral value of empathy.

It simply hadn’t occurred to me that there would be anything controversial in seeking a more empathetic society, where we are all asked to care for all beings. But then, not long ago, I came across a book titled Against Empathy, by noted Yale University psychologist Paul Bloom. In the book’s first paragraph, Bloom noted the surprise of his stance, commenting that when people asked him what his new book is about, he would tell them ‘empathy’. He went on to say, “They tend to smile and nod when I say the word, and then I add: ‘I’m against it.’ This usually gets a laugh. I was surprised at this response at first, but I’ve learned that being against empathy is like being against kittens – a view so outlandish that it can’t be serious.” (Against Empathy: The Case for Rational Compassion, p. 15.)

In recent months right-wing politicians have weighed in regarding empathy. First, the Vice-President offered his own interpretation of some teaching from St. Thomas Aquinas that is known in Latin as ordo amoris, or the order of love and charity. According to the Vice-President, Aquinas intended that this love for others be extended first to family, then to neighbor, then outward from there, in widening concentric circles. The Vice-President used this interpretation of Aquinas’s wisdom to justify the actions of federal agents in seizing and deporting immigrants. This prompted the late Pope Francis to issue a rare corrective statement, in which he wrote, “Christian love is not a concentric expansion of interests that little by little extend to other persons and groups… “The true ordo amoris that must be promoted is that which we discover by meditating constantly on the parable of the ‘good Samaritan’ (cf. Lk 10:25-37), that is, by meditating on the love that builds a fraternity open to all, without exception.” (https://www.ncregister.com/cna/pope-francis-vance-clash-over-ordo-amoris)

Last month, Charlie Kirk, the head of a conservative organization named Turning Point USA, was murdered at an event on a college campus in Utah. I didn’t know much about his beliefs, so I watched some videos and read some articles about him. Kirk held very conservative views on a wide range of topics. But I particularly took notice of his thoughts on empathy. He said, “I can’t stand the word empathy, actually. I think empathy is a made-up, New Age term that does a lot of damage, but it is very effective when it comes to politics. Sympathy I prefer more than empathy.”( https://theconversation.com/charlie-kirks-legacy-is-the-beneficiary-of-empathy-but-he-couldnt-stand-the-term-264831). Like J. D. Vance, Kirk believed that there should be limits on empathy, and saw moral outrage as ‘fake’.

Charlie Kirk mentioned his preference for sympathy instead of empathy, and this raises an important consideration: it can be very hard to define the values of sympathy, empathy, and compassion – hard to distinguish between them. I find that I can’t always reliably make the distinction myself. We’re going to take a look at all three.

We shouldn’t be concerned about sometimes being confused. Paul Bloom pointed out in his book that there are many different definitions of empathy. He quoted one team of researchers as saying that there are as many definitions of empathy as there are people studying it. (Against Empathy, p. 16.). He offered his own definition, which is: “Empathy is the act of coming to experience the world as you think someone else does.” (Ibid.)

What about sympathy? Feeling sympathy for others is more limited than empathy. We can and often do, feel sympathy. We express our condolences, send cards and letters, and emails, maybe drop off a meal. But these actions are more of a social nicety, almost a social obligation. We can stay at arm’s length from another’s pain. Sympathy doesn’t ask much from us.

Empathy, however, can be more reflexive, more reactive: imagine, for a moment, how you might feel if you see someone being injured – hitting themselves in the thumb with a hammer, for example. Chances are you will feel some pain in your body as well, maybe find yourself reflexively clenching your fist, or feel a turning of the stomach. Standing there, witnessing an injury, you can imagine the other’s pain.

Empathy calls us to open ourselves to similar responses when we see another person suffering. It asks us to put ourselves in the shoes of another, to try to feel their pain.

So far, it’s hard to see why people seem to be rejecting empathy. After all, throughout our lives, beginning in childhood, we were taught to ‘walk a mile in someone else’s shoes’, and as parents, we tried to teach these same values to our own children.

There are some interesting objections to empathy, however. People on the right wing believe that empathy too often is offered to people who they consider outsiders. Empathy for starving and sick children in other parts of the world can result in expensive international aid programs instead of putting local needs first, for example. And lately there have been accusations that empathy is made up just to make the right wing look bad. Apparently this is all spelled out in a new book titled Toxic Empathy.

Then there are other objections to empathy; more academic objections. One, offered by Paul Bloom in his book Against Empathy, is that empathy doesn’t really accomplish much of anything. We can imagine another’s pain, we can feel it, but what if we stop there and fail to help? A second objection is that, try though we might, we simply cannot imagine the pain and suffering of the billions of people in the world. In other words, empathy is necessarily limited.

Still, these objections should not cause us to reject the concept. These arguments should not keep us from aspiring to becoming as empathetic as we possibly can. And, as we grow in empathy, we can also strive to be more compassionate.

What’s the difference between empathy and compassion? Pope Francis reminded us of one of the most widely-known examples when he reminded us of the story of the Good Samaritan. There were people who walked past the injured man lying on the side of the road. We don’t know whether they expressed any sympathy or empathy – perhaps they drew in their breath and thought, “Oh, that poor man. He must be in great pain.” But the Good Samaritan stopped and cared for the man in distress, binding his wounds and carrying him to a nearby inn to recover. In other words, he took action.

Compassion, then, is empathy in action. To truly accompany someone who is suffering, and go beyond simply sharing the feelings of pain. To find a way to help.

In a speech, former President Barack Obama once said that it is important “to see the world through the eyes of those who are different from us – the child who’s hungry, the steelworker who’s been laid off, the family who lost the entire life they built together when the storm came to town. When you think like this – when you choose to broaden your ambit of concern and empathize with the plight of others, whether they are close friends or distant strangers – it becomes harder not to act, harder not to help.” (in Bloom, Against Empathy, p. 18.)

As we heard in our story earlier, Jane Goodall, who died this week at the age of 91, had a gift and a passion for observing animals from her earliest years. This led her, at the age of 26, to Tanzania and the Gombe Stream Chimpanzee Reserve, to study chimpanzees in the field. Living among the chimps, studying them patiently and intently, she came to recognize them as beings that exhibited many behaviors that had once been attributed only to humans. As time went on, Jane had the mystical experience that we heard about in our reading, and, discovered, as she wrote, “self was utterly absent: I and the chimpanzees, the earth and trees and air, seemed to merge, to become one with the spirit of life itself…”

For Jane, the sense of the Other that so pervades our national conversation these days was swept away. In that moment, she understood with the mystics that all are one. This could be described as the pinnacle of empathy, and it led her to move beyond merely observing and recording behavior to working to protect the chimps. As President Obama said, “it became harder not to act, not to help.”

Once the distinctions between species dissolved in her mind and heart, Jane Goodall began to shift her focus toward conservation and protection of first the chimps themselves, and then the forest and the people living nearby. She established the Jane Goodall Institute. She began attending conferences, and speaking out about the needs of the animals and people in western Tanzania. Then, in 1991 Jane founded a program called Roots and Shoots, to involve youth in conservation efforts. Eventually she created a reforestation program in Tanzania that also addressed poverty and focused on job creation for local residents.

Jane Goodall led a long and impactful life. And when we look at her life through a lens of empathy and compassion, we see how she evolved from an empathetic observer of animals to a compassionate protector of animals and people. Her compassion grew as part of her spiritual journey: the overwhelming, never-forgotten sense that everything seemed to merge, and become one with the spirit of life. Hers was a life of empathy in action, without lines drawn between species, or nationalities, where all were seen as deserving of care and of help.

We do well to honor Jane Goodall, and remember her and the example she has offered us for living with commitment to the well-being of others.

And to honor her profound life of the spirit, I close today with a poem she wrote, titled The Old Wisdom:

When the night wind makes the pine trees creak
And the pale clouds glide across the dark sky,
Go out my child, go out and seek
Your soul: The Eternal I.

For all the grasses rustling at your feet
And every flaming star that glitters high
Above you, close up and meet
In you: The Eternal I.

Yes, my child, go out into the world; walk slow
And silent, comprehending all, and by and by
Your soul, the Universe, will know
Itself: the Eternal I.

May her memory be a blessing.

Amen.