“Compassion” Colchester Federated Church, June 18, 2023, (Matthew 9:35-10:8) Third Sunday after Pentecost
Sometimes there are moments in the Gospels that provide an almost perfect snapshot of Jesus’ life and ministry. A passage where we think—wow, so that’s what it was all about for Jesus. Today’s text from the Gospel according to Matthew provides one such powerful illustration. Matthew shares, “Jesus traveled among all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues, announcing the good news of the kingdom, and healing every disease and every sickness. Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he had compassion for them because they were troubled and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.”[1]
Here’s an amazing snapshot of Jesus’ ministry. Matthew explains Jesus traveled to both large cities and small villages. Jesus taught in synagogues. We remember that Jesus was Jewish. Jesus announced the good news of the kingdom of God—that the last would be first and the first would be last. We can imagine Jesus teaching in those synagogues that we are called to love God, love our neighbors, and love ourselves. Jesus healed every disease and sickness as folks in need came to him for help. Jesus saw the crowds. And when Jesus saw them—he actually saw them. Jesus had compassion for those he encountered in the cities and villages, recognizing that they were troubled and helpless. Those who came to Jesus in need of healing were compared to sheep wandering around without a shepherd.
If we would further sum up this snapshot of Jesus’ ministry in one word, it would be compassion. In fact, in the CEB Study Bible that is the heading for Matthew Chapter 9 verses 35-38— “Compassion.” Jesus displayed concern for the sufferings and the misfortune that people faced. Over and again that is the pivotal mark of Jesus’ ministry—it is a radical, transformational, awe-inspiring embodiment of compassion.
Christian theologians Henri Nouwen, Donald McNeill, and Douglas Morrison wrote a book called Compassion: A Reflection on the Christian Life. The authors reflect, “Jesus’ response to the ignorant, the hungry, the blind, the lepers, the widows, and all those who came to him with their suffering, flowed from the divine compassion which led God to become one of us.”[2] The authors contend that we modern believers miss something if we only focus on the miraculous healings that Jesus performs in these Gospel stories. What’s important is not just Jesus healing those who were sick in mind, body, and spirit. What’s revolutionary and has something meaningful to say to us is the compassion that moved Jesus to offer healing in the first place. That compassion has something to teach us about the mystery of divine compassion.
It’s further explained by Nouwen, McNeill, and Morrison that there’s an expression used twelve times in the Gospels in reference to Jesus or God that in English we translate as “to be moved with compassion.” The Greek verb splangchnizomai comes from the Greek word for the entrails of the human body. We might say “the guts” instead of “the entrails,” but you get the idea. What this expression helps us understand is that the guts are “the place where our most intimate and intense emotions are located.” So when the Gospels speak about Jesus being “moved with compassion”—we can think of that as being moved deep down in his being and in his body, in his guts. It wasn’t a superficial or surface-level feeling. It wasn’t some passing sorrow or vague feeling of sadness for somebody else’s plight that Jesus seemed to be feeling as he spent time in those cities and villages. No, this is compassion coming from a vulnerable part of Jesus’ body. In his gut, Jesus truly was sharing in someone else’s vulnerability, entering their experience of weakness or powerlessness, entering their pain and sorrow.[3]
Knowing that what we translate into English as “being moved with compassion” is really about Jesus entering into someone else’s weakness and powerlessness, pain and sorrow in the depth of his being—down in his guts—has something to say to us. Because we don’t necessarily have the skill set of Jesus’ twelve disciples who were told to go to the lost sheep of Israel, to “heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those with skin diseases, and throw out demons.”[4] Well, maybe you can do all those things. In truth, I find some of them to be a bit challenging.
But you know what we can do? Reach out to the stranger, help mend the broken-hearted, be a shoulder to cry on, and just show up to someone in pain because we allow ourselves to be vulnerable with them. We can follow where Jesus would lead us.
As I was contemplating compassion, another wisdom story came to mind. There’s a lovely Indian folktale about the importance of generosity and compassion for one another. That tale begins with a poor beggar who sat in the streets of a town day after day, begging folks who walked by for rice. At night, the beggar would sleep on his mat with only a few old rags to shield him against the elements. Most days, he had enough rice to make a small meal for himself and enough copper coins to buy just enough firewood to cook the rice. Life continued on much the same, day after day.
Though one day, the beggar heard that the emperor was coming to town. So he made sure to sit on the route where the emperor would pass by. The beggar came up with a good plan as the emperor passed him in his coach and noticed him. The emperor even got out of his coach. As the beggar was beginning to hold out his bag and ask the emperor for rice (or for money come to that), the emperor greeted him warmly and humbly. However, the emperor asked the beggar if he could have some of the beggar’s rice.
The beggar was understandably shocked and disappointed. Why would the emperor need rice from him? Why would the emperor beg for rice from this person who was the poorest of the poor? The beggar begrudgingly counted out five grains of rice and gave them to the emperor. Meanwhile, the emperor thanked him warmly and graciously and went on his way. That night the downtrodden beggar went to prepare his meal and clean the rice. He noticed that something was shining among the grains of rice in his bag—five nuggets of gold. Five exactly—one nugget of gold for each of the grains of rice the beggar had given the emperor.[5]
It’s one of those wisdom stories that has stayed with me because the truth is that we all can be compassionate. From the wealthiest person to the poorest person and anybody in between. It’s not like compassion can only come from a place of power or even having it all together. No, compassion can come from anywhere and compassion can come from anyone. It’s about seeing people and allowing ourselves to have a glimpse into what another person is going through, to feel for them in our own guts. The truth is that we may not be able to heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those with skin diseases, and throw out demons like Jesus commissioned his twelve disciples to go forth and do for the lost sheep of Israel. But we can be compassionate just like Jesus—because he taught us how. Thanks be to God. Amen.
[1] Matthew 9:35-36, CEB.
[2] Henri J. M. Nouwen, Donald P. McNeill, and Douglas A. Morrison, Compassion: A Reflection on the Christian Life, pg. 14.
[3] Nouwen, McNeill, and Morrison, Compassion, pg. 14.
[4] Matthew 10:8, CEB.
[5] Margaret Silf, Ed. “The Emperor’s Gift,” in One Hundred Wisdom Stories from Around the World, 87-88.
Photo by Khadeeja Yasser on Unsplash