Every Kindness Is Saving a Life

Rethinking the Pharisees

Sometimes, the Pharisees get a bad rap in Christian circles. They're often caricatured as legalistic and rigid, but that misses some of the beauty in their tradition. In fact, one of the most profound teachings of the Pharisaical movement was this: you must break Sabbath if it means saving a life.

This wasn’t just a loophole; it was a theological conviction. The idea was that breaking one law to fulfill a greater one actually honored the law in its fullness. Sound familiar? It should. Because it's deeply in line with how Jesus operated. But then, as he often did, Jesus took this idea and pushed it even further.

Stretching the Boundaries of Compassion

In Mark chapter 3, Jesus returns to the synagogue on the Sabbath. Among the congregation is a man with a withered hand. Jesus poses a question to his critics: "Which is lawful on the Sabbath, to do good or to do evil, to save life or to kill?"

Silence.

They knew what was coming. Jesus was invoking pikuach nefesh — the Pharisaical teaching that life-saving work overrides Sabbath laws. But instead of embracing that shared value, they held back. Perhaps because when your own words are used to expand your imagination, it can be disorienting.

When Your Own Words Come Back to You

My daughter, who is three, has recently mastered the phrase, "Sharing is caring." It's adorable, until she weaponizes it against her brother. If he has something she wants, out it comes: "Sharing is caring!" And if he doesn’t budge, she appeals to higher powers: "Dad, sharing is caring."

Last week after trick-or-treating, I attempted to invoke my parental tax — that sacred right to claim some of the best treats. She was not impressed. But when I reminded her, "Baby, sharing is caring," the look on her face said it all: He knows the ancient words!

Sometimes silence means someone is recalculating their worldview.

From Law to Liberation

Back in the synagogue, Jesus looks around, grieved by their hardened hearts. Not just angry, but deeply distressed that they could not see how their own teachings pointed to something bigger. He heals the man. And the Pharisees, instead of celebrating a life restored, begin to plot his death.

Yes, that escalated quickly.

But the escalation makes sense if we read this story in the broader arc of Mark's gospel. This isn't just about Sabbath. It's not about healing or even about Jesus breaking the rules. It's about imagination.

Reimagining the Good News

The Kingdom of God, Jesus says in chapter one, is near. Repent — change your mind, expand your vision — and believe the good news.

That good news looks like Simon's mother-in-law serving from a place of healing. It looks like demonized individuals reintegrated into community. It looks like social contagion erased, religious stigma dismantled.

In chapter two, it becomes tax collectors and sinners welcomed without condition. It becomes rest that signals abundance, not scarcity. And now, in chapter three, the good news is this: saving a life includes all of it.

The Fulfillment of Divine Law

Jesus isn’t rejecting the law. He’s fulfilling it by reorienting it toward love. Healing broken structures that tell us who belongs and who doesn’t — that's Divine Law. Welcoming those we once excluded — that's Divine Law. Rethinking who is worthy of God’s love — that’s Divine Law.

Every act of kindness, every time we choose connection over separation, healing over hierarchy — it’s all saving a life.

And that, Jesus says, is the fulfillment of God's imagination for us.