Jesus had a way of seeing the people no one else noticed.
In Luke 7:1-17, two stories unfold—one about a Roman centurion, an outsider to Israel, and the other about a grieving widow with no one to care for her. On the surface, they couldn’t be more different. The centurion was powerful, respected, and well-connected. The widow was vulnerable, unseen, and without security. But in both moments, Jesus stops. He sees them. He responds.
The centurion needed healing, not for himself, but for a servant—someone society might have deemed expendable. The widow, on the other hand, doesn’t even have the chance to ask for help. She is walking in a funeral procession for her only son, carrying not only her grief but the weight of a future with no protection, no status, no support. And yet, Jesus sees her suffering and is moved with compassion. Without being asked, he steps in and restores life.
Both stories reveal something about the heart of Christ: he notices those we so often forget.
Which brings us to a question we may not always want to ask: Who are we forgetting?
It’s easy to name the people society pushes aside—the unhoused, the lonely, the sick, the ones who fall through the cracks. But if we’re honest, there are others we forget too. The ones we struggle to love. The ones we avoid because their pain makes us uncomfortable. The ones we dismiss because they challenge our way of thinking.
Jesus calls us to see them all, to love and pray for them all; to remember that each person carries a story; to step beyond what’s easy or familiar and choose compassion.
So this week, let’s sit with this question: Who are we forgetting? And once we have our answer, let’s ask another: How might Christ be calling us to see them?
