My son reads a book series called "Magic Treehouse" by Mary Pope Osborne and she always titles her books something like "Dolphins at Daybreak" or "Afternoon on the Amazon". If I had to title this chapter of my life in that vein it would read "Compassion at Christmas". As in...it's on my wish list. Reading through the book of Matthew I've been reminded again how compassion was this primary visceral response for Jesus. Over and over...He felt compassion, was moved by compassion, filled with compassion, deeply moved...His very first sermon, the infamous "Beatitudes" is all about compassion. Every angle from which you view the Christian life, it's there. Compassion. Mercy. Pity. Sympathy. Loyalty. Kindness. All these words find themselves linked in the ancient Hebrew or Greek. Literally "splagchnizomai," (God bless you!) the greek for "compassion" means to be moved as to one's bowels (thought to be the seat of love and pity). You feel it. And not only do you feel it, but you want to do something about it.
Webster's says this: COMPASSION, 1. A suffering with another; painful sympathy; a sensation of sorrow excited by the distress or misfortunes of another; pity; commiseration. Compassion is a mixed passion, compounded of love and sorrow; at least some portion of love generally attends the pain or regret, or is excited by it. Extreme distress of an enemy even changes enmity into at least temporary affection. He being full of compassion, forgave their iniquity. Psa 78. His father had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him. Luke 15.
OK, kinda wordy, I'll agree...but the main point I think is that you are attaching yourself to another's grief or suffering by feeling it with them and wanting to help alleviate their pain. Jesus' felt compassion was always followed by action in Matthew. He was deeply moved then he welcomed and healed. Even when it was inconvenient. Even when he was dog tired or trying to get alone to grieve the execution of his beloved cousin John. When I'm thirsty, I drink. When I'm hungry, I eat. When I'm tired, I sleep. When Jesus feels compassion, He acts. And to think we are always objects of His love and mercy! He is always on the move in my life and in yours. But the people had to come to Him and cry out, ask, seek and knock. And what they got was so much mercy from God's Servant they were bewildered and praised God in wonderment. And next time they brought their friends along to get some of that kind of mercy, too.
I've been conducting a little survey for compassion in my own gut and I think more than ever with the adoption of our son, I have seen my desperate lack of it. I've become keenly aware of how apathetic I can be towards another's plight. Instead of feeling it with them, I find I'm quicker to justify their suffering as mere consequence for their own poor choice. Or I find myself so wrapped up in my own messy journey that I don't take the time to get outside myself to think or feel for another. I find for years I used the "spiritual gift" excuse to lay the responsibility to feel compassion and act on it on those with that special "gift of mercy". "Yeah, wellll...I'm more of the teacher type...sooooo....". But how far this is from the core message of the Story. The God of compassion and mercy wants to infuse Himself into our being. That we might partner with Him in being moved for the whole broken, lost, hurting, shepherdless, fatherless, hopeless, loveless ball of humanity.
In reading Matthew I noticed that first Jesus "saw" the crowds. He perceived with His eyes. He was looking. Are we going out into the streets, alleys, offices, shopping malls, schools, cul-de-sacs, looking? He saw. Then He was moved to compassion. This is the part that gets me. I simply know that this kind of gut feeling will have to be granted by the Father of Mercy. I will ask for it in faith. I know He will in time change me to feel His heart for this world. And not just for the samaritan. It will start in my home and with my family and friends knit into the daily fabric of my life. I want His heartbeat. I want to see past the chaos of the moment in our home...to almost freeze-frame time and see what He sees with His eyes. And then, I want to act - with His hands, feet, words, thoughts, prayers. Or maybe it means taking the God-like stance of Psalm 78:38 "Yet he is compassionate. He forgives sin and does not destroy. He often holds back his anger, and does not stir up his fury." This is compassion and mercy, too. Or maybe it's speaking gently to a child, or genuinely feeling with my spouse the things that are swirling around in his heart and head. Compassion is God's heartbeat at the very center. From Genesis to Revelation...mercy. So that's what I'm asking for this Christmas and New Year. I want to see, feel and act like Jesus. Big prayer. Baby steps. But again...it's His kindness that leads us to repentance. If we're going to point a world to a Savior, we might want to start reacting in the same visceral way that moved him 2000 years ago, led him to a cross and continues to move Him still. Come Lord Jesus, have Your Way in us.
