In today’s media maelstrom, empathy stands at the center of an ideological battle. Across headlines and social media, pundits, scientists, and church leaders fiercely debate whether empathy is a vital value for humanity or merely a tool that feeds our egos and fuels division. This conversation is not abstract—it plays out in boardrooms, on political stages, behind pulpits, and in everyday discourse. Critics claim that an overemphasis on empathy creates echo chambers that reinforce tribal loyalties, while proponents insist that without it, society becomes cold and fragmented. These discussions challenge us to redefine empathy’s role in our increasingly polarized world, and the linked material on Medium’s “Is Empathy A Sin Now?” provides a glimpse into how this debate has evolved (Medium.com).
Some examples:
Empathy in the Public Arena
In recent political debates, we’ve seen empathy weaponized to silence opposing viewpoints. For example, during discussions on immigration policy, accusations of lacking empathy have been used to shut down legitimate concerns about border security, rather than fostering a nuanced dialogue that addresses both humanitarian and security issues. And the same is true on the inverse: refusal to understand and vilification of empathy has made it impossible to have conversations about ethical and humane treatment of aliens and instead has made enemies out of “neighbors” and is forcing a short-term bandaid at best. This also happens to be where the typical Evangelical voter camps. An actual problem in this nation is that we can’t talk with one another anymore.
It has reached the point where some Christians are even calling empathy sin (Desiring God). Our terms and perspectives are off. For me, this is evidence of how far American theology has drifted from historical Scriptures. Instead of proving our side, we are all arguing over the same issue, exposing our collective struggles with empathy. When the debate shifts to whether empathy itself is a sin, we see echoes of Nietzsche’s observations on Master/Slave mentality—a battle that takes on labels like Depression/Grandiosity or Victim/Savior.
“He who knows only his own side of the case knows little of that. His reasons may be good, and no one may have been able to refute them. But if he is equally unable to refute the reasons on the opposite side, if he does not so much as know what they are, he has no ground for preferring either opinion.”
– John Stuart Mill
At the heart of the discussion is whether empathy is a moral virtue or just another weapon for the modern ego. Political psychology studies have shown that when empathy is applied selectively, it can intensify partisan polarization. Focusing too much on the suffering of our in-groups risks building walls that isolate us from those who hold different views.
Critics, especially from reformed Christian circles, warn that empathy blurs boundaries and can even validate sinful behavior. Figures like Joe Rigney warn that when we “jump into the quicksand” of another’s suffering, we risk losing objectivity and enabling harmful patterns. Yet, defenders emphasize that true biblical compassion—rooted in the command to “weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15)—is about feeling with others while staying anchored in truth.
“True compassion is born of the courage to confront truth, not the desire to avoid it.”
– Henri Nouwen
Social media has amplified these discussions, often distorting the meaning of empathy. Influential voices in technology, business, and cultural criticism argue that modern society has fetishized vulnerability and overvalued emotionalism, leading to a form of emotional relativism. Meanwhile, on college campuses and in think tank podcasts, scholars debate whether empathy is misused to silence dissent or if a deficit of empathy is at the root of societal cruelty.
A Personal Journey with Vulnerability and Empathy
My personal reckoning with vulnerability and empathy began in Moscow, Idaho, when I first encountered Brené Brown’s Daring Greatly. Her words shattered my hardened exterior and taught me that vulnerability isn’t weakness; it is the birthplace of courage. This revelation unveiled deep-seated insecurities that had long defined my interactions. Two years later, after some time sober, her Atlas of the Heart forced me to reexamine the labels I’d attached to my emotions. I realized I had been muddling definitions—confusing genuine emotions with a shallow mix of meeting expectations and suppressing feelings.
In her work, Brown introduces the concept of near-enemies—ideas that closely mimic but ultimately undermine genuine empathy. Near-enemies, which she draws from Buddhism, include notions like pity, the near-enemy of empathy, while apathy or disgust serve as its far enemies. Her discussion of top-down with bottom-up processing mirrors how our brains actually work, a concept that resonates with the science detailed in The Body Keeps the Score.
Our brains are not linear or only logical–neither are we. “As Above, So Below“—we are the intersection, processors, and communicators of knowledge. Our postures influence how we perceive, process, and practice our assumed knowledge. Empathy is our primary means of learning, even if it can be misused or twisted into something destructive.
“Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome.”
– Brené Brown
This journey was not merely about feeling; it was about recognizing that our hearts are wired for empathy. Our vulnerabilities can build bridges to deeper human connections, transforming the way we relate to one another. Freedom, for me, has come from learning to be authentic—letting go of the need to be understood and embracing the openness to both love and be loved.
Yet, this path is not always smooth. Maintaining empathy for oneself while navigating the struggles of others is no simple task—especially for a recovering alcoholic. The question is not whether empathy is inherently good or bad but how to engage with it in a healthy, balanced manner. Suggesting that empathy is a sin is as reductive as suggesting that eating or thinking are sins. Like love and truth, empathy is a narrow path—easily lost if we stray. While empathy can be abused by manipulators or snake-oil salesmen, we cannot escape it. We must master empathy rather than allowing the “sin” of apathy sto lumber on our welcome mats.
Neuroscience Reveals: Empathy is Hardwired & Complex
Understanding the neurological basis of empathy can help us develop more effective strategies for conflict resolution and social cohesion. By recognizing that our capacity for empathy is hardwired, we can work on cultivating it intentionally, much like we would exercise a muscle, to improve our understanding, relationships, and societal interactions.
Modern neuroscience offers fascinating insights into how empathy functions within our brains. Research by scientists such as Tania Singer shows that when we witness someone in pain, our brain’s anterior insula and anterior cingulate cortex light up. This evidence suggests that empathy is not simply a learned behavior but a biological process essential for social bonding and communication. If we continue to fight or refuse empathy, we risk either atrophying or corrupting this essential capacity.
Our understanding of empathy today includes both left/right and top-down/bottom-up dynamics. This isn’t simply a division between the creative and logical sides of the brain; it involves an integrated network that spans the limbic system, frontal cortex, neo-cortex, corpus callosum, and brain stem. This network processes both rapid, emotion-driven responses (bottom-up) and more reflective, analytical processes (top-down). Our language centers, such as Broca’s area, work with regions like the anterior cingulate cortex to interpret and articulate our experiences. Even anger and corrective demands require this delicate balance. Before we can even communicate, we have to understand ourselves and the people we’re communicating with. The human capacity for empathy has a direct neurological basis—it is as inherent in our biology as it is in our call to love one another. Empathy is the language we use to understand ourselves and others, whether or not we like it.
“The human brain is wired for connection, but the skills of empathy must be built.”
– Daniel Goleman
Empathy is deeply embedded in our brain’s social circuitry. Studies on psychopathy, narcissism, and Machiavellianism—the so-called “Dark Triad” traits—show that some individuals exhibit selective or cognitive empathy. They understand others’ emotions without truly feeling them, a trait seen in “dark empaths” who use this ability for manipulation rather than genuine connection. The serpent in all of us knows how to use empathy for our own good.
Conversely, empathy is foundational to leadership, teaching, counseling, parenting, and deep relationships. It helps shape how we form language, communicate, and develop social understanding. Neuroscience confirms that our ability to tune into others through empathy not only fosters cooperation but also reinforces neural pathways that promote trust and social bonding.
However, the same neural circuits that allow us to feel another’s pain also predispose us to in-group favoritism. Research on oxytocin—the so-called “moral molecule”—demonstrates that while it boosts trust and generosity, it also reinforces our natural inclination to empathize more with those who share our identity. If empathy is a sin, are we supposed to amputate all of these neuroreceptors?
Ancient Struggles Reinvented: The Anima/Animus in Modern Culture Wars
An often-overlooked element of this debate is the historical milieu that has shaped our cultural struggles. Today’s culture wars, steeped in debates about identity and power, are not new. Every society—from the Greeks and Romans to the Jews and modern nation-states—has grappled with questions of culture and perspective. In ancient times, religion and politics were intertwined; Roman values celebrated duty, honor, tradition, and the importance of family and community. The New Testament emerged in a turbulent era, amidst a mini-global culture war where the roles of men, women, family, culture, faith, and politics were all hotly debated.
Discussions surrounding masculinity, femininity, transgender issues, family units, and abortion in the context of the 2024 Election remind us that the Battle of the Sexes is far from over. The ancient conflict between the anima and animus—the archetypal forces that Carl Jung described as the emotional and rational sides of the human psyche—has long been miscast into rigid gender roles. Traditionally, the anima has been seen as the wellspring of empathy and intuition, while the animus is associated with logic and strength. What our society tries to do is draw a line between them. This dichotomy has seeped into our cultural narratives, shaping our very perceptions of empathy.
Expanding on Modern Neuroscience & Cultural Shifts:
In today’s performance-driven, status-oriented world, our reliance on technology—from social media to everyday conveniences like microwaves and Amazon—reinforces an ego-based, reactive mindset. Researchers across fields, including Christian theologians and neuroscientists, note that our brains are wired to react instantly (bottom-up) even as we have the capacity for reflective thought (top-down). When dopamine-driven behaviors override these reflective processes, the balance is lost. This disruption mirrors the struggle between our anima and animus, as both our neurobiology and cultural conditioning push us toward extremes.
“We are not simply rational beings; our very biology demands that we engage both our emotional depth and our intellectual clarity—a balance that is at the heart of true empathy.”
Critics of simplistic gendered theories, like Simon Baron-Cohen’s empathizing–systemizing theory, argue that labeling empathy as inherently feminine is not only scientifically dubious but also culturally reductive. Contemporary neuroscientists such as Gina Rippon challenge this binary narrative, showing that both men and women are capable of complex, integrated emotional responses. The struggle between our anima and animus is not a battle between men and women, but a timeless conflict within each of us—a challenge to integrate our innate capacity for empathy with the need for reason, acceptance, and self-control.
Biblical Exegesis: Truth, Love, and the Mandate to Empathize
Etymologically, empathy is much like compassion and sympathy—they share roots in Latin and Greek.
• Em – pathos: To feel “in”
• Com – pathos: To feel “with”
• Sym – pathos: To feel “with”
• A – pathos: To not feel
One key debate centers on the prefix “in”—should we “feel in” others? The answer is “Yes.” Sympathy is more about being able to understand how someone feels. Meanwhile, Biblical compassion originally meant to feel “in the bowels”—the seat of love and emotion in ancient thought. It is empathy, even if empathy is misunderstood today (kind of like love and vulnerability). This area of the human psyche was once equated with the “soul,” in contrast to spirit or heart.
Although the current debates seem to split hairs over definitions, you cannot separate any of these aspects from empathy. While “empathy” does not directly translate to a single New Testament Greek word, concepts like σπλαγχνίζομαι (splagchnizomai), meaning “to have compassion” or “to be moved with compassion,” and οἰκτιρμός (oiktirmos), meaning “compassion, mercy, pity,” reflect a deep, visceral connection with another’s suffering from within.
Over time, the meaning of words shifts as they are adapted into different languages and cultural contexts. The English adaptation has focused on the positive aspects of emotional connection, while the original Greek captured a broader—and sometimes darker—emotional landscape.
Empathy is not merely a social tool or emotional instinct—it is a fundamental aspect of being made in the image of God. Genesis 1:27 declares that humanity was created in God’s image, and Colossians 1:15 affirms that Christ Himself is “the image of the invisible God.” As Christians, we are called to be conformed to Christ’s image (Romans 8:29), meaning our lives must reflect His way of engaging with the world—rooted in truth, love, and deep, personal connection.
Yet the New Testament’s nuanced approach to compassion—avoiding negative connotations of certain Greek terms—illustrates that while empathy can be destructive when misapplied, it is also a dynamic force when grounded in truth. An empath must extend understanding to themselves before truly relating to others.
“Empathy is a tool for building people into groups, for allowing us to function as more than self-obsessed individuals.”
– Neil Gaiman
Defining “Empathy”
Empathy, as explored here, is both a biologically hardwired process and a spiritual function – how we use it is up to us. It is the capacity to deeply feel “in” with another—not as passive absorption of their emotions, but as an active, reflective, and discerning participation in their suffering and joy. This dual nature demands both neurological integration and spiritual wisdom, enabling us to engage with others while upholding truth and accountability.
“Empathy is simply listening, holding space, withholding judgment, emotionally connecting, and communicating that incredibly healing message of ‘You’re not alone.'”
– Brené Brown
When critics rail against empathy, they are often relying on a skewed version that disconnects real understanding from the frustrations of societal misuse. In other words, it’s projection and a very empathetic act. We will continue drawing lines until we realize that the boundary between good and evil runs through every human heart.
The incarnation of Christ embodies what God’s take on empathy is. He took on flesh, entered into human suffering, considered his identity something not “to be grasped,” and bore our griefs (Isaiah 53:4) by fully stepping into our experience. God took on humanity out of love while we were still sinners – this is empathy. Empathy is not just a feeling—it is a function of truth in love (Ephesians 4:15). Modern Christianity over-emphasizes Christ’s divinity and neglects His humanity. Love without truth becomes indulgence, while truth without love becomes cruelty. Telling someone “No” for their own good can be as hard as trying to understand another’s pain—especially for a recovering alcoholic.
God condemned the lack of empathy in Israel’s leaders, rebuking them for their hardness of heart and failure to care for the weak (Ezekiel 34:4–6). Likewise, Jesus grieved over Jerusalem’s resistance to His love, lamenting, “How often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings” (Luke 13:34). The God of Scripture does not simply act with compassion—He enters into our suffering, calls us to do the same, and expects us to embody His heart. In 1 Peter 3:8, we are commanded: “Finally, all of you, be of one mind, having compassion, love, brotherly kindness, a tender heart, and a humble mind.” Romans 12:15 further exhorts us to “rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.” These commands are not mere suggestions but active invitations that define true discipleship.
“Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them, humanity cannot survive.”
– Dalai Lama
Some of the “one another” commands in the New Testament include:
• “Love one another as I have loved you” (John 13:34–35)
• “Encourage one another and build each other up” (1 Thessalonians 5:11)
• “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2)
• “Live in harmony with one another” (Romans 12:16)
• “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another” (Ephesians 4:32)
Love without empathy is hypocrisy—it is corruption and sin. It is what “even the Gentiles do.” We are called to the narrow path, Christians. Let us not forget: this path is simple yet hard, demanding integrity and honesty while being loving and courageous.
Conclusion: Embracing Empathy with Wisdom
The empathy debate challenges us to reconsider how we relate to one another in an increasingly complex world. Ultimately, it calls us to examine our inner selves and question how we position ourselves toward the world. Rather than drawing ever more rigid lines, we should address the real issues hidden behind masks and finger-pointing. This is not about choosing between empathy and truth but integrating both in a manner that fosters genuine understanding and positive change. It’s about confronting the fear we harbor of others—and of ourselves.
“Love—and the unity it attests to—is the mark Christ gave Christians to wear before the world.”
– Francis Schaeffer
As we navigate this cultural moment, we must remember that empathy, like any powerful tool, requires wisdom in its application. It is not about blindly absorbing every emotion but about cultivating a deep understanding that informs our actions and strengthens our communities. By grounding our empathy in truth and coupling it with discernment, we can build bridges across divides and create spaces for authentic connection—all while maintaining healthy boundaries.
In the end, the call to empathy is a call to our highest selves—to see the image of God in others, to bear one another’s burdens, and to love as Christ loved us. It is a challenging path, but one that holds the promise of transforming not only our personal relationships but our society as a whole.
As we continue to wrestle with these ideas, let us approach the empathy debate not as a battle to be won but as an opportunity for growth, understanding, and, ultimately for embodying the love that lies at the heart of our shared humanity. We ned to stop pointing fingers. If we win an argument but lose the person, then we have already lost.
For me, it comes down to whether God is empathetic or not: If He is, why are Christians debating this? If He isn’t, why are humans here?
Have some empathy for those struggling to understand empathy—it isn’t easy, and we all can empathize with that.
