Think of a time when you experienced a loss. Loss of a job, end of a relationship, the death of a beloved person. Your intense emotions can be all consuming. When we are hurting or grieving, it is hard to think of other people’s feelings. We often want to retreat into ourselves and our memories, maybe hold up in our home without much social interaction. Friends and family try to follow your cues as to what you need; solitude, companionship, distraction or simply hugs.
Shiva embraces a time when individuals are vulnerable, discuss their loss and accept the comfort of others. In our gospel lesson Jesus is just hearing about the beheading of John the Baptist. Jesus himself is vulnerable and might be needing shiva. John’s death was the culmination of Herod’s birthday feast and a result of John speaking truth to power. John, Jesus’cousin, was killed for preaching the coming of the Messiah, the coming of Jesus. So, it is no wonder that Jesus retreats to a deserted place, a place to feel his loss, a place to mourn the death of his cousin John. It is what he does after, that is surprising. READ Matthew 14:13-21
We know this story as the feeding of the 5,000. But what it really is, is compassion and abundance. Even in his depleted state wanting to retreat into solitude to mourn the loss of John, Jesus sees the pain of the people before him and responds to the crowd with compassion. First by healing their illnesses, then by offering them food, abundant food. You see compassion is love made real.
“Meister Eckhart, the 13th century mystic wrote, ‘You may call God love, you may call God goodness. But the best name for God is compassion.’ No one had more compassion than Jesus of Nazareth who lay down his life for sinful humanity. Jesus is compassionate” (Sermons.com).
Did you notice Paul was compassionate too. After declaring the inseparable nature of the love of God, Paul speaks of his great sorrow and unceasing anguish for his people, the Israelites. He even considers losing his relationship with Christ in order for his people to be seen by the Gentile church. He sees their pain and he responds, he acts. Because compassion is not only feeling sorry for someone’s pain but also doing something about it. The Center for Compassionate Leadership defines compassion as “the awareness of the suffering of others combined with the desire to help relieve the suffering and remove the causes of the suffering.”
So when your heart breaks for the immigrants who are abducted off the street on the way to work, first you feel their suffering then you seek to do something about it; be it go to a No Kings rally, get trained to be a responder, or protest on an overpass. Compassion is not simply having empathy for someone it is seeking to help end their suffering.
We often think of Jesus as compassionate, but hearing his own vulnerability, his loss of his cousin John and still showing up for others, that is truly a compassionate Christ. A friend told me about leading a disable group on a river rafting trip right after breaking up with her boyfriend. I felt for her, needing to put her own feelings aside to show up for others. It reminded me of leading a youth lock in at a church the day I learned that my marriage was ending. Feeling our own pain and sorrow opens us to feel other’s pain and want to help. That’s compassion. Compassion means we care for others, we see their pain and we love them through it. Sometimes our own vulnerability helps us to be more compassionate towards others.
Our faith does too. When we are connected to God through Jesus so that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus then we can see the world through loving eyes, we can feel peoples’ pain because we are held in God’s love. George Buttrick, in The Interpreter’s Bible, wrote that the word we translate as “compassion” is a much stronger word than pity. Compassion means “the pain of love.” That’s it, Compassion is the pain of love. Love for our fellow humans, love for those different than us, love of God and the Creation. Compassion motivates us to see people who are suffering, or the world groaning and taking action to do something about it. Because that is what Jesus did. He saw people’s illness and he showed compassion by healing them. Even in his own grief, Jesus saw the crowd’s hunger and he fed them, fed them abundantly. Before this, with a veneer of compassion, the disciples seek to dismiss the healed crowd to get food, because they were in a deserted place. The desert brings real practical challenges for staying alive, unless you’re planning for manna and quail to fall from the sky. But Jesus had his own compassionate idea. First, he looked to heaven blesses and broke the bread. Much like we will soon do. Then, he enlists his disciples to serve, to feed, 5,000 men and likely 5,000 more women and children. Tonight’s meal isn’t going to descend from the heavens; it’s going to be passed around by human hands. The disciples distribute the food, looking again and again into hopeful and delighted eyes as they move from one hungry body to the next (Working Preacher, Matt Skinner). Maybe that’s one of the many reasons why we celebrate communion by intinction, so that we can look into each other’s eyes while we are being fed by God and know that God is providing for us. God is showing compassion to us as God’s beloved children and feeding us just like Jesus did. From five loaves and two fish Jesus satisfied 10,000 people. Not just a crust of bread, but enough be full, satisfied, because God’s compassion is abundant. So much so that there were baskets left over. There is always more than enough in God’s kingdom.
Compassion and abundance. Communion and Compassion. Communion is the manifestation of compassion, the pain of love. For God so loved the world he gave his only Son. When we come to table we are being fed by God, shown compassion and love. Compassion isn’t a one-time event, it continues. That’s why in the next chapter Jesus feels compassion again and feeds the crowd again (15:32). And we get to be the waitstaff and feed God’s people just like the disciples. We get to show God’s compassion by being the hands and feet of Christ.
“When World War II ended, the member of a church in Frankfurt, Germany, began reconstructing their bombed-out sanctuary. One of the main objects to be restored was a statue of Christ that had been sorely broken apart. All the pieces were found except the hands. After long debate, the congregation decided to leave the figures without hands. Under it they inscribed the words: “Christ has no hands but our hands.” The job that Christ wants done still involves compassion. We are the ones called upon to show it” (Sermons.com).
Barbara Lundblad, Professor of Homiletics at Union Theological Seminary, tells of a phone call she received from a former student who was serving an inner-city parish. Professor Lundblad asked her how their building renewal project was going. “Great!” said the student. “But we ran out of money before we could refurbish the sanctuary.” Lundbald bristled a little at this. Naturally, she considers worship to be the first priority of the church. “But we hand enough to remodel the basement where we have the homeless shelter so we could put in some new beds and get a better kitchen and clean up the place for our guests.” They had just dedicated the basement by gathering in their old run down sanctuary to praise and pray and hear the word of God: “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me” (Matt 25:35-36). Then they took the bread and the communion chalice and went down to the basement and broke the bread over the new beds and share the cup in the new kitchen.
That night the beds were full and the sanctuary still needed work. And Christ was fed and welcomed and clothed and sheltered by his church. (Christ’s compassion) Said Lundblad, “May it always be so among us” (Sermons.com, Larry Bethune, Join the Journey). Amen.
