The "Unworthy" One

"Mel, do you know the things he's done?" Addressing Empathy.

It was the final hour of the workday, and I was ready to go home. I had just settled into my ergo dynamic office chair to end the day at my desk. “Perhaps I can duck out early,” I thought. The day had been long, with its usual patient rounding of about twenty to thirty rooms. Then I returned to my office to check messages and call back frustrated people who were angry with the hospital system because they couldn’t get a doctor’s appointment, or because a nurse lost their purse or wallet. A few of them were nice, while others cussed me out.

The phone rang. Groan. The caller ID indicated it was the 14^th floor. I had a feeling it was a room visit, but hopefully just a phone consultation. Please, please, please… I picked up the phone and attempted to drown out any annoyance in my tone by saying as kindly as possible, “Patient experience, this is Mel.”

“Mel, I’ve got someone for you,” the nurse said bluntly. “Is it too late to come up? I don’t know what this guy’s problem is. He keeps complaining, and we can’t do anything for him. Now he’s asking for patient experience.”

“I have time, I’ll be right up.” I groaned inwardly. I gave myself the usual pep talk. “This is what you love to do Mel, you like helping patients, come on, you can do it. Dear Lord, please help me solve this patient’s problem. Make me brave.” Just from the nurse’s tone of voice, I could tell I was about to get a good cussing out, and those encounters were never a good way to end the day. Prayer was my strengthening agent.

I took a deep breath and entered the room. I saw a young man, young enough to be my adult son. He had a baby face, but it was hardened by a lifetime of blows to his soul, and he spoke like it, too. After introducing myself, I asked him how I could help. His words were laced with anger and expletives as I journeyed with him to discover the heart of his issue. For people as angry as he was, the obvious problem is never the problem. If I’m patient, I can usually find my way to the heart of the issue. With this man, the path to getting there was filled with sorrow.

“All I want,” he retorted, “Is to fill out this stupid form, but the stupid nurse won’t help me! They say I can do it myself, but I can’t!

“You can’t use your hands?

“No! Look at them.” He moved his arm just slightly, and I saw that though he had some grasp with the sides of his hands, they were otherwise useless.

“ I can’t walk, I can’t write, I can’t do anything!”

“There it is,” I thought to myself.

“Tell me how you came to this hospital,” I said.

His story slipped out in blubbers of anger and fits of self-loathing. He told me how he made mistakes and ended up in jail. While out on parole, he and his friends were messing around and committed a crime. This led to a freak accident where He found himself in the hospital. Over the months, he regained some function, but not enough. During his recovery, he bounced from house to house. After months of no improvement, He came to my hospital hoping for a miracle.

Angry tears brimmed in his eyes. “No one wants me,” he said. I was living with my ex, but she is tired of caring for me; my friends can’t take me. I might go back to jail. All I want to do is figure out whatever the hell is wrong with me. And now they want to release me and send me home. To where? I told them I didn’t want to go, and the social worker handed me this paperwork to help me get a home aid or something, but no one will help me fill it out.”

At this point, I knew I was dealing with a man who, by his account, had “dug his own grave.” He had done everything wrong and put himself in an impossible situation. Honestly, I didn’t know if I could help him, but I had this moment of thinking, “What if it was you, Mel? What if your entire childhood taught you to live a lifestyle of crime? What if you couldn’t get yourself out of that mindset? What if one day you woke up in a hospital, unable to move? What if what you had made everyone turn away from you? What if you needed help and no one was there to help?

“I’ll help you fill out your paperwork,” I said. “Also, did you know you can dispute your discharge? It’s a long shot, but sometimes if you have a good case, you can buy yourself a day or two.”

“The only reason why I’m here at this hospital is so I can figure out what’s wrong with me.”

He still had hope.

I left his room briefly to speak to the social worker.

“Mel,” she said, frustrated, “why are you helping that guy? Have you read his chart? Do you know the things he’s done? Do you know he has a parole officer? He has been nothing but mean to us all day.”

“He can’t fill out that paperwork. He may be able to lift his arms, but he can’t use his hands properly.”

“You know he isn’t going to get an extension on his stay.”

“I know, but it’s my job to offer it to him. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

I couldn’t blame her. As a social worker, to help him to the best of her ability, she had to understand who she was working with. She had worked with him all day, and all he did was cuss her out. She was at her breaking point. I have been there too. It’s the point of no return—the moment when you have to pass a patient off to someone else. I could offer him the empathy and compassion he needed, but she could not.

Over the next hour, I spent time with him filling out his paperwork. We chatted about his sad life. He cried—I nodded my head. We talked about God a little. I told him that God loves him—he doubted that. I prayed with him, then gave him a lecture about being nice to the nurses. We smiled at one another, and I left, promising him a visit the next day. When I returned the following afternoon, the nurse informed me that he had been discharged.

And that was that.

In my imagination, I did not see a good end for him. All I can do is hope. So really, the encounter is mine to learn from and process. I viewed each encounter in that hospital as something I could learn from—a training ground for my future in chaplaincy. I believe this was the day that the concept of empathy took root in my soul. I had been practicing for a while, but this encounter helped me understand it.

2024-2025 has been a banner year for the word “empathy,” with the release of Toxic Empathy by Allie Beth Stuckey and The Sin of Empathy by Joe Rigney. I was shocked after reading quotes from both books, especially Rigney’s. Here is an excellent review I read by Danielle Treweek, as I don't plan to spend much time discussing these books. Empathy, by definition, is pretty simple to understand and not as twisted and weak as these books make it feel. The best definition I found while researching to speak with teens about having “safe conversations” is:

“The ability to emotionally understand what other people feel, see things from their point of view, and imagine yourself in their place.”¹

That’s it. When done this way, it is not a sin and certainly not toxic. This is the reason I was able to serve this patient. I imagined myself in his place and tried my best to see things the way he did. Empathy is the lifeline to compassion.

Empathy does not excuse or condone unlawful behavior. It does not mean that you agree with everything the person is saying. It brings us to a place of understanding where we can show people compassion even when it’s difficult to do so. After the social worker talked to me, I understood exactly what type of man I was going back into that room to serve, and I felt a bit fearful. However, because I listened and tried to understand his sorrow, I was able to find compassion in my heart for him.

Jesus exemplifies empathy in Matthew 9:10-13:

“Later, Matthew invited Jesus and his disciples to his home as dinner guests, along with many tax collectors and other disreputable sinners. But when the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with such scum?^[a]”

When Jesus heard this, he said, “Healthy people don’t need a doctor—sick people do.” Then he added, “Now go and learn the meaning of this Scripture: ‘I want you to show mercy, not offer sacrifices.’For I have come to call not those who think they are righteous, but those who know they are sinners.”

Jesus saw their need, understood it, and met it. He did not condone their sin, but he humbled himself and addressed their needs. He listened; he showed compassion. What a Savior. Empathy helps me humanize people when I don’t understand their behavior. It reminds me of the times when I’ve needed it the most, when I felt unworthy. I am grateful that, as humans, we have the capacity to empathize. Let’s use it.

1. Riess H. The Science of Empathy. Journal of Patient Experience. 2017;4(2):74-77. doi:10.1177/2374373517699267