“Christ’s Compassion—Our Compassion”
“Christ’s Compassion—Our Compassion”
Mark 6.30-34, 53-56
Mark 6.30-34, 53-56
In the name of the Living God and the risen Christ. Amen.
At the heart of this account is the heart of God: Jesus has compassion. This compassion is manifested in four different ways in these verses from St. Mark, but in a way, they’re rather subtle. I’d like to outline these four aspects of Jesus compassion revealed here (usually I ask you to remember three things, but this morning we’ll increase it to four!)
The account begins Jesus gathering his disciples, who’ve just come back teaching and healing in his name. They’re exhausted, and had been so busy with his work that they couldn’t even eat. The Lord’s first act of compassion is for them: he takes them away for some well-deserved rest and recovery. How comforting to know that when we do God’s work, he promises always to sustain us. When God calls us to do his work, he also equips us; when he sends us, he also sustains us.
But the crowds keep coming, running along the shore to meet Jesus and the 12. The crowds know their need, believe Jesus can heal them, and reach out to him in any way possible. Even just to touch the fringe of his cloak, would be enough. They want even just a small piece of Jesus for healing and restoration. Jesus second act of compassion is for them, the crowds. He’s exhausted too, and overwhelmed after working hard for days, but the Lord looks out on the crowds and has compassion on them—not resentment, not “leave me alone”, not “shows over folks time to go home.” His heart is moved to get back at it, teaching and feeding “for they were as lost sheep without a shepherd.” (Mark 6:34)
I say “his heart” was moved, although in the original scriptures it’s a bit deeper than that. We in the West like to speak of “matters of the heart” of having great depth and substance—and the Bible can speak this way too. But here, when the scriptures say he has “compassion” on them, this is a deep stirring of the Lord’s innards—his guts we might say. Like earlier in Mark 1 when a man whose flesh is being eaten away by leprosy, and kneels begging before Jesus, the Lord “moved with pity”, stirred on the insides, grabbed in the guts, so to speak, extends his hand and heals the poor man. (Mark 1:41) Or in Luke 7, when Jesus sees the Widow from Nain and sees that her only son is dead, some English translations say, “his heart went out to her.” (Luke 7:13) Really, he’s gut-sick for her. Or when the Prodigal sees his lost son returning to him in Luke 15, he’s moved deeply on the inside with pity and compassion. (Luke 15:20) That’s what’s happening here, in Mark 6: Jesus looks out at the crowd and can’t help himself.
And that’s what’s happening, here, too, even this morning. The Lord’s third act of compassion is for us, who read this witness and experience it anew today. The guts of the gracious God are at work: teaching, feeding, having compassion on sinners. He knows we can’t cure ourselves, heal ourselves, restore ourselves, save ourselves, so, moved with compassion he provides all that we need. This great compassion brought him from his heavenly throne to be born in a barn; this great compassion compelled him to go the way of the cross, to save sinners, of which we are the worst; this great compassion raised him from the house of death on Easter morn; and this great compassion brings him again to us, this morning, in teaching and feeding.
How different this compassion is than anything we experience in ourselves or in our world! We build walls of resentment. We retreat into tribalism and partisanship not just in politics, but even in Christ’s church. We hold grudges for decades, not just because we were wronged but because we’ve learned to love to hate. We close ourselves off from the needs of others, so self-centered and self-absorbed, all the while disregarding our Lord’s command to “go, you, give, serve, sacrifice”.
This is what happens when you get into God’s insides: it exposes what’s inside you, too, which is decidedly not like God.
And yet, our Lord is still moved to pity for us. Yes, even here, even for you and me this morning, his arms extended to embrace the whole world in his death. His bitter sufferings and death was the just punishment for our sins and the sins of the whole world. By these compassionate wounds, we receive forgiveness for all our transgressions. He gives his own body to be broken, and distributed for the life of the world, on the cross. See this, believe this, touch this. It is the guts of God for you today.
His death was not the end. After his crucifixion, the Lord’s compassion moved him again. Sin, death and hell could not outweigh his love for his whole creation. But on the third day, he burst forth from the tomb victoriously, his love, stronger than death. In this new life, we have new life. Baptized into his name, we also become instruments of his great compassion for others. This is the fourth act of compassion, found in the gospel for today: God’s work of love through us, to the world. We’re his heart, we might say. Or, better yet, his guts—his aching for a world in need.
Jesus had compassion upon his disciples; he had compassion on the crowds, who needed his shepherding hand; he has compassion on us, as he gives himself for us again, this morning in his word and sacrament; and he fills us with his spirit to live lives of compassion for others.
Let’s be the guts of God.
Come soon Lord Jesus. Amen.