Good Morning!
Technically it is not morning... it is also not Monday as I am writing this. It's Tuesday. This is something new I want to try. I will send out a brief message each Monday morning which will include a short inspirational note, daily Bible readings for the week (as included in the worship bulletin each Sunday), the text of Sunday's sermon, and maybe a few announcements.
This past Sunday, I preached on compassion. I shared at the end of the sermon that I searched and searched across various news sources but could not find any stores of compassion to share. As I thought about this on Sunday afternoon, an old poker adage came to mind... "If you can't spot the sucker at the table, you're the sucker."
What does being a sucker at the poker table have to do with compassion? I'm glad you asked...
That saying came to mind because I realized that if I'm not seeing any evidence of compassion... it could be because I'm not living compassionately. If I see a lack of compassion in the world, it's because I am lacking in compassionate actions. I'm going to do my best to live with compassion this week. I'm going to keep my eyes, ears, and heart open to those in need and do what I can to act with compassion and help where I can.
God of compassion, open my eyes to see your children, especially those most in need. Open my ears to hear the cries of "Help" from the most desperate. Open my heart to receive and share your love and grace. Amen.
Announcements:
Next month, I'm going to preach a series on Holy Communion. Do you have questions about communion? Maybe there's something you don't understand or you've always wondered why we do something a certain way or don't do something... Let me know. You can email your questions: scoats@nccumc.org
Next Sunday's (7/28/2021) Sermon: John 6:1-21, "We Are Greater"
Daily Readings (July 22-28)
Monday— Hebrews 13:17-25
Tuesday— Acts 20:17-38
Wednesday— Luke 15:1-7
Thursday— Colossians 1:9-14
Friday— Colossians 3:12-17
Saturday— Psalm 14
This Week's Sermon: "We Are Compassionate"
Mark 6:30-34; 53-56
Our text today, includes the wrap-up to events that began earlier in Mark’s gospel—we read the set up for the first part of today’s reading a couple of weeks ago. After being rejected in his home town of Nazareth, Jesus sent his disciples out to minister in the towns and villages of Galilee.
Mark’s gospel says, “They went out and proclaimed that people should change their hearts and lives. They cast out many demons, and they anointed many sick people with oil and healed them.” (Mark 6:12-13). Jesus sent them out to do what he was doing. To proclaim God’s reign; to teach; and to heal.
Today, we read of their return. You may have noticed that the reading is split into two chunks. That is because it skips over 2 of Jesus’ miracles— feeding the 5000 and walking on the water. We’re going to look at John’s account of those events next week. That is what happened between Jesus teaching the crowds and his arriving again at Gennesaret.
We begin as the disciples return from teaching across Galilee and tell Jesus about their ministry – preaching, casting out demons, healing the sick. And Jesus realizes they are tired. They need some time to rest and recover. There are people everywhere. So many, they can’t even take a break to eat. So Jesus suggests that they slip away to some secluded place and take some time to rest and recover.
So they hop in a boat and head off to a deserted piece of shoreline where they can rest. But the crowds notice. And they follow. They ran to where they were going and actually beat them there. And when Jesus sees the crowd, he is filled with compassion for them. So he begins to minister to them – to teach and heal and eventually feed this crowd of 5000 men, plus women and children.
Jesus saw the crowd and had compassion for them. That was the phrase that really stood out to me in this text. Compassion is a word, and a concept that we often misunderstand. Often when we hear compassion, or when we think about compassion, what we really mean is pity.
Compassion is much more than pity. Pity is something that is done from far away. Physically and emotionally – pity is distant. You can see someone’s plight and feel sorry for them and never get your hands dirty – that’s not compassion. I heard someone say this week, “Pity is something you can manage from afar.” Compassion requires closeness and intimacy. Jesus had compassion for the crowd—that is more than pity and much more than simply feeling sorry for them.
Sometimes, to better understand a word, it is helpful to look to other languages. In this case, German is really helpful. The German word for compassion, or one of the German words for compassion is mitleid – it means “with suffering” or “suffering with”. In other words, when you see someone suffering, if you have compassion for them, you suffer with them – you feel what they feel. I think that’s closer to what Jesus felt. He saw the suffering of the crowd and he felt their suffering and he had to act to end it.
The Greek word used in Mark’s gospel gets even more to the point. It is one of my favorite words in biblical Greek—if for no other reason than it is fun to say. Splagchnizomai (splänkh-nē'-tzo-mī) is the word translated as compassion in verse 34. It literally means “moved in the bowels”. The bowels, in 1st century Palestine, were seen as the center of emotions. One translator suggested we might think of splagchnizomai as “having one’s [emotional] guts ripped apart.” This gives you an idea of the intensity of Jesus’ feeling of compassion. I like to think about it like this, Jesus saw the crowd and was punched in the gut by their plight.
He saw them and he felt their pain. He didn’t see the crowd and simply shake his head and tell his disciples, “Aw, that’s too bad.” He felt their pain—their hurt, their grief, their need— and it spurred him to action. That’s what compassion is. Compassion is seeing the plight of others and being moved to action. When you have compassion, you can’t help but help those in need.
And that is the story of God throughout the Bible, not just in this story in Mark’s gospel. God is a God of compassion. But we don’t always portray God as compassionate. Often God, especially in the Old Testament, is portrayed as vengeful, vindictive, and angry. And we, as Christians often portray God in the same way. We portray God as distant, other – approachable only through structured and protected ritual – like going to church, praying a certain way, reciting certain creeds.
But that is not the story of God. The Bible tells us, again and again, of a God of compassion. Psalm 145:8-9 says, “The Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. The Lord is good to all, and his compassion is over all that he has made.” It is a refrain we read throughout the Bible.
“The Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” 8 or 9 times in the Old Testament – the Lord is gracious and merciful, abounding in steadfast love. We read again and again of God’s compassion. God saw and heard the plight of the Hebrews living as slaves in Egypt and out of compassion, could not help but help. God saw the plight of those exiled to Babylon, and out of compassion God could not help but help.
The gospel, the good news of Jesus, is a story of compassion. It is a story of God, again, seeing the plight of humanity and all creation, and out of compassion God could not help but help. God could not help but do something to defeat Sin and death – to give hope to the hopeless, to free the captive.
Part of the beauty of God’s compassion is that God meets us where we are with compassion. No rituals or special formulas are needed. In our scripture today, Jesus found the crowd waiting for him. He ministered to them, showed them compassion. Then ends up in Gennesaret, and again, out of compassion, teaches and heals those in need. Jesus brings compassion to them – he doesn’t wait on them to come to where he is.
This story serves as a reminder that God is with us. Rochelle Stackhouse says, “God dwells where we dwell and moves where we move.” Our compassionate God who offers hope and life pursues us – sees our plight and is “gracious and merciful abounding in steadfast love – and shows compassion to all creation.”
Not only is God compassionate, not only does Jesus show compassion, but Jesus teaches us that “compassion is inherent to discipleship.” Being compassionate is a requirement as followers of Jesus. It is a part of who we are—because it’s part of who Jesus is. We should have compassion just as Jesus had compassion. It should hit us in the gut and move us to action. We see that in our scripture this morning.
As followers of Jesus, we are called to compassion. We are called to suffering with those around us. It is compassion that moves us to action. Jesus also teaches us that compassion is not just a feeling, it is a doing. True compassion moves us to act, to affect the suffering around us.
Tony Campolo tells a great story of what it looks like to show compassion. He was speaking in Honolulu. And since he was from the East Coast, he woke up at about 3:30 in the morning. He couldn’t get back to sleep, so he went to a local diner. When he was there a group of prostitutes came in. One of them mentioned that the next day was her birthday. The other’s kind of made fun of her. “So what? Do you want me to sing? Should I bake you a cake?” And they all laughed.
Agnes, the one who’s birthday it was, looked sad. She said, “You don’t have to put me down. I’ve never had a birthday party in my whole life. I don’t expect to have one now.”
After they left, he asked the guy behind the counter if they came in every night. He said they did. So, Campolo asked him a question. “Tomorrow is Agnes’ birthday. Can I throw her a birthday party?” Harry, the cook and owner, thought it was a great idea.
So the next night they decorated to the nines. Harry’s wife baked a birthday cake. Word got around and the place was packed. When Agnes came in, they all yelled “Happy Birthday!” And Agnes was stunned. When they brought the cake out, she started to cry. She couldn’t even blow out the candles.
Then she asked a weird question. She asked if she could take the cake and show her mother. She just lived down the block. She wanted to show her mother because she’d never had a birthday cake before.
While she was gone, Tony Campolo who was a sociologist at the time, led the whole restaurant in a prayer for Agnes. Harry looked at Tony after the prayer and said, “You’re a preacher? What kind of church do you belong to?”
Campolo replied, “I belong to a church that throws birthday parties for prostitutes at 3:30 in the morning.” I think what he meant was that he belonged to a church that knew how to show compassion. He saw and heard Agnes’ plight and his compassion moved him to action.
What can we do to be a compassionate church? How can we be compassionate to the hurting in our community?
I mentioned that earlier that this story is a reminder that God is with us. Our lives should serve as a reminder of that same thing. Our lives are meant to reflect the Jesus’ life of compassion. Living with compassion means that we notice the suffering around us – whether it be a prostitute who never had a birthday party, someone begging on the street, a person who is sick or dying, or even someone simply having a bad day – living with compassion means we notice and it’s like it hits us in the gut. And we can’t help but help.
In doing so, in living with such compassion, we serve as a reminder to others that God is with us. Rochelle Stackhouse says, “The people of [Jesus’] time knew Jesus by his words and his actions of love and generosity.” The best way the people of our time can know Jesus is by our compassionate actions of love and generosity.
Have y’all noticed that the news is not always good lately? We don’t see a lot of love and generosity—we don’t see a lot of compassion. Friday as I was writing this sermon, I started searching news sites for some story of compassion just one little bit of love and generosity… I didn’t really find anything. And I started to get really depressed because here I am preaching about compassion and how important it is for the world, and for us as we live out our faith… and I couldn’t find an example. I only found despair and desperation and division. Then as I was reading and editing last night I remembered something.
There is a great meditation about resurrection by Rob Bell that I listen to from time to time. He talks about the little tiny moments of life we have. These experiences that fill us with hope and life. They may be huge moments like the birth of a child or little tiny moments like a simple lyric of a song that pops into your mind at just the right time and brings a smile to your face. He calls them the moments of meaning. Moments of significance.
Then there are those moments and events and experiences that seem to drain us of life. The times when things don’t go well. The times when all seems lost and hopeless.
And we start to think that those dark moments are what life is and those good, inspiring moments feel like little “escapes from how it really is, which is cold, dark, lonely, and pointless.” Do you ever start to feel that way—that the way the world really is is cold, dark, lonely, and pointless”?
Here’s the thing… we are Easter people, which means we live with and in resurrection, and as Rob Bell says, “Resurrection is the opposite.” Resurrection tells us that the little moments of light, the moments of hope—the huge ones and the tiny ones—those are the real thing. Those moments are glimpses and glances of “how it really is”. They are little (or big) visions of God’s reign breaking in and shining the true glory of God’s creation.
Every time I listen to that seven minute meditation I am reminded that the dark, dreary news that seems to be the way tings really are—is just a distraction from God’s love and hope and peace. Like a cloud passing across the sun with a momentary dark shadow.
When we live with compassion, we have the chance to let God’s light shine in the darkness—to remind the world that the hope and joy and peace of Jesus is what is true and real and beautiful.
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