What does compassion look like in church governance?

Compassion is often considered “just” a feeling—a sympathetic response to someone else’s pain. But it goes beyond emotions to how we act in the world with our families, our coworkers, and our fellow seekers. Compassion asks us to move beyond sentiment so we can listen deeply, respond with love, and make choices that reflect care for one another.

In the life of a congregation, this kind of compassion can shape not only how we treat each other, but how we govern ourselves. It can show up in the policies we write, the priorities we set, and the decisions we make together.

For example, the Board recently discussed the feasibility of extending healthcare reimbursement to our part-time employees, which could have a significant impact on our budget. On the surface, this is a straightforward policy question of the kind that boards are often tasked with weighing. 

But then someone in the room shared a personal story about how a similar policy had once negatively impacted them, and that story changed the tone of the conversation. It reminded us that real people with real lives lie behind every policy and decision. In response, Rev. Carin reached out to our current employees to learn more about how this decision might affect them personally.

That moment reminded me that compassion isn’t just about acting with kindness; it’s also about learning about others' lives and situations, allowing that knowledge to touch our hearts, and making space for it to shape what we do.

We might call this a kind of compassion audit for our policies as well as the everyday decisions we make as a church. What would it look like to ask, regularly and intentionally:

  • Who is most affected by this decision?

  • Have we heard their stories?

  • Are we responding with care, not just efficiency?

  • Does this reflect the values we say we hold?

We've already seen what it can mean to live into this. When members of the congregation shared in the board's listening sessions that accessibility was a top priority, that opened the door to investing in a new ADA-compliant ramp, an automatic door, and a chancel ramp. These commitments reflect both our values and our compassion for one another.

We can also revisit our End Statements through this lens. What if we made compassion more explicit in the way we describe our purpose? What if we named it not just as a value, but as a way of being together?

Compassion isn’t soft or sentimental. It’s a commitment to actively listen to and care for each other. When we build that into the bones of our governance, we build a system that doesn’t just strengthen our church—it reminds us who we are.

by Robyn Miessler-Kubanek, Board President