When Jesus saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Matthew 9:36
There are few
portrayals of Jesus in the Gospels that appeal to me more than this: I see him
shaking his head in sorrow, the tears standing in his eyes.
The key word
is “compassion”. The verse could be translated literally, “When Jesus saw the
crowds his stomach churned with pity…”. This is a level of emotion that we,
perhaps, rarely know – though seeing a little child dragged out of the ruins of
Gaza must surely come close.
Here is the
full humanity of Jesus: he wasn’t God pretending to be a man, simply playing a
part; no, he was fully divine but fully human as well. This is what God is really
like.
Matthew uses
some graphic words to describe the crowds in Galilee: “harassed” could equally
be vexed, or distressed; “helpless” could be laid low, or unable to cope; “like
sheep without a shepherd” – well, that speaks for itself: lost, wandering,
aimless, hopeless.
These aren’t
people caught up in the horrors of war, which of course is even worse; they are
people – just “ordinary” people - struggling to cope with the everyday
pressures of life. I can’t help thinking of the people milling around our local
city centre in the build-up to Christmas: struggling to make ends meet,
determined to have “a good time”, whatever that may mean, but looking anything
but happy. In a word, just ordinary human beings like untold millions on the
face of the earth from the beginning of time. Whoever it was who called this
sad and sinful world “a vale of tears” wasn’t far wrong.
As I imagine
Jesus, full of tenderness, surveying this scene, I find myself challenged by
the question: How might I react in the same situation? Indeed, how do I
react?
Do I react
with indifference? “Well, that’s the way life is. There’s nothing much I
can do about it, so I’ll just look after myself as best I can, and leave others
to look after themselves.”
No Christian,
reading about the compassion of Jesus, can possibly be content with that.
Famous as the shortest verse in the Bible, John 11:35 tells us that “Jesus
wept” at the tomb of Lazarus. (And that was by no means the only time.) God
help us all to pray, in the words of the beautiful little Graham Kendrick song,
“Soften my heart, Lord, soften my heart… from all indifference, set me apart…”
Hopefully, I
don’t react with callousness. “It’s none of my business, so why should I
bother with the sufferings of other people? I’m all right, so as far as I’m
concerned that’s that”. That, in fact, is just one step away from indifference,
our first category; it’s indifference that has hardened into heartlessness, and
we need to be very watchful, for it isn’t only our bodies that change, it’s
also our inner selves. Let’s examine ourselves, in case we wake up one day and
find ourselves asking, “How – oh how! – did I come to be this way?”
I might just shrug
my shoulders and react with despair. “The pains of this life have no
end; they are questions without answers, wounds without medicines”.
Even a
Christian may sometimes feel this way, and that’s understandable. The list of
problems seems infinite: wars and rumours of wars (as Jesus foretold); economic
crises wherever you look; climate change threatening the future of our planet; poverty,
homelessness and hardship; gender confusion; political instability and tension…
When tempted
to despair we need to come back to base, so to speak, and to remind ourselves
that it was ever thus. The pains of our world may take different forms from
centuries ago, but in principle they are very much the same – and that was a
world to which Jesus came proclaiming good news!
Only faith
can enable us to hold fast to the promises of Jesus in, for example, Matthew
24, so our business is to be totally honest with God, and with one another, and
to cling on if necessary by our very finger-nails. As Christians we are
essentially deeply serious people, as well as full of joy.
There is also
a fourth possible response to the suffering of our world: I might choose to condemn:
“These people who are so lost and helpless – well, they have brought it on
themselves. Unlike me, they have failed to get to grips with the forces of
life, and that is why we see them dependent on food-banks, or lying in shop
doorways in the city centre, or unable to hold down a reasonable job. They’re
just life’s losers”.
There may be
some truth in our criticisms, for we know that all of us need to be held to
account for our sins and follies. But judging, ultimately, is God’s business,
not ours. Our business is to foster the compassion of Christ within ourselves
and within others. Lord, preserve me from arrogance and self-righteousness!
A key thing
to finish with: Jesus didn’t just feel compassion; he went on to act
compassionately, to do something. He preached the good news; he taught
the truth of God; and he healed the sick and fed the hungry.
“But I’m not
equipped to do that!” we say. To which Jesus relies: Oh yes, you are! You have
the equipping of my Spirit. No, you can’t feed the world’s hungry or stop the
world’s wars. But you can take a look at your own tiny bit of the world,
and work out how to make a tiny bit of a difference right there.
Can’t you?
Father,
thank you that Jesus knew the meaning of tears. Please increase daily the level
of my tenderness, until I truly can feel his compassion and weep with his
tears. Amen.
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