To faithfulness and determination on our list of habits of his grace, today we add compassion. What is compassion? Compassion changes people. It can change the way we look at others and treat them. Compassion can change those receiving it. It can change those extending it to others.
Author Stephen Covey, in his book Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, shared a personal experience of his.He recalled one subway trip on a Sunday morning that was a rather quiet, uneventful ride. That ended when a man with obnoxious and loud children got on. As his children were being disruptive and terribly misbehaved, much to the annoyance of the rest of the crowd in the subway, the man himself seemed clueless and irresponsibly uncaring about his children’s behavior. That only made the whole situation even more disturbing to everyone else in the subway car. When he had determined enough was enough, the author turned to the man and, pointing out his children’s inappropriate behavior, asked if the father would intervene and do something about it. The man came to attention, as if he had been lost entirely in another place. He apologetically explained that he and his children had just come from the hospital where about an hour ago their mother had died, and he supposed that he and the children weren’t sure how to deal with it. In an instant, the author explained that frustration and irritation were washed away by a flood of compassion. It brought about a complete shift in perspective, away from selfish personal annoyance to an earnest desire to offer any assistance whatsoever to serve the man in his moment of need. Compassion changed everything.
As Jesus provides us with the framework to explore this habit of his grace today, here is what I hope we take away: that in our reflection on compassion, we give a good amount of thought to the tension that exists between feelings and action as they pertain to compassion. Furthermore, depending on how we might be inclined to weigh in on that discussion right now, can we have a better understanding not only of the difference, but also of how we might personally need to lean one way or the other (more feeling or more action) in striving for more compassion in our lives?
The root definition of compassion is “to suffer together.” While we think of it as an emotion or feeling that we experience when seeing someone else suffer, it’s a fair question to ask if one can truly suffer with another without any action being taken. Suppose each night for a week a different needy person knocked on your door asking for any food you could spare. While your heart went out to them each time, you explained that you were just not in any position to help them. As you later retell that story to someone else and explain how much compassion you felt toward those people in need, but that you didn’t do anything to help any of them, how convinced would the person listening be that your compassion was genuine? Isn’t it fair to say that as we describe ourselves, feelings of compassion are justified as sufficient, but as we look at others, frankly we’re not all that convinced unless their feelings lead to some sort of action?
I don’t know if it’s unique to me or if many of us tend to do it, but I have found myself being sure to point out my good thoughts, intentions, or feelings to my wife and others, even – or maybe especially! – when I didn’t actually do anything. “I was going to” or “I thought about,” is then of course followed by some effort at providing an understandable, legitimate-in-my-own-mind reason for not actually doing the thing. Does “I was going to take out the trash” count the same as actually doing it? Is “I wanted to fix that clogged drain” pretty much the same thing as unclogging the drain? I think we know the answer.
Actually, I suppose we acknowledge this must be a pretty common thing, as we have an expression that lets us off the hook a bit, right? “It’s the thought that counts.” But is it? Especially in our culture today, people are not satisfied with thoughts or good intentions. The only thing that is acceptable is when any action is taken. While this isn’t really the place to discuss social activism, it does raise a fair question about how genuine compassion really comes across if not accompanied by action. How much am I really “suffering with” someone else via feelings or emotions? Does compassion require action?
Do you notice something about compassion when we look at it in the life of Jesus? Compassion as Jesus demonstrated it resulted in action. Every time. In fact, at no point in any of the Gospels do we come across the word “compassion” in connection with Christ that doesn’t involve him doing something. The Gospel writers point out that Jesus felt compassion… and then describe what he proceeded to do. So while the literal definition of compassion is “suffering together,” what we see in Jesus are demonstrations that show the extent of his compassion by virtue of the action that follows. He had compassion on the hungry crowds, so he fed them (Mt. 15:32ff). He had compassion on people who were like sheep without a shepherd, so he taught them (Mk. 6:34). He had compassion on the sick and demon-possessed, so he healed them (Mt. 14:14). He had compassion on the blind, so he gave them sight (Mt. 20:34). Do you catch the theme? Compassion produces action. Say it with me: compassion produces action.
But… not just any action. And here’s where else compassion becomes a tricky thing. Suppose we are convinced that compassion produces action. What action? And for whose benefit? Here’s why we have to wrestle with it: if I am not careful, those good feelings that flow from compassion (Did you know studies reveal that experiencing the feeling of compassion does in fact release what we refer to as the “bonding chemical,” oxytocin?), may merely lead me to take action that makes me feel better. In other words, if the action that results from compassion is merely action that makes me feel better, but doesn’t really meet the need of the person for whom I feel compassion, am I really serving that person, or am I just serving myself?
Let me explain with an example I believe I have shared before. Two years ago in this same month on a Friday, a young homeless man had come on to the property while hot lunch was being prepared for the school kids. Since we are very cautious about strangers on the property while school is in session, I engaged the young man and began talking with him on the bench outside the church entry. While there were some signs of mental and cognitive issues and a little paranoia, after several hours I got to know his name, his story, and he even showed me his Facebook profile. The longer we sat together, the more I found myself internally frustrated by the fact that this was not how I had planned to spend my day off. Finally, I started to explore how we could help, thinking the sooner I can move him along, the sooner I can get back to my day off. The usual offerings came to mind, so I asked if he needed food or clothes, or if there was someplace I could take him. Then he told me what he really needed, and that’s when I was faced with the ugly reality that my offer to help him was really an effort on my part to wrap up the inconvenience he was causing me. What did he need? A shower. A washing machine to wash his clothes. That was when I was convicted. I realized that while I had the ability to provide him with both of those, I wasn’t really interested in meeting his needs, but rather my need, my desire to be rid of him while convincing myself I did something nice for him. After thinking it through and realizing that my wife was working and the kids were at school, leaving our house empty, he spent the next couple of hours getting a shower and washing his clothes. After a meal and contacting a family member, I later took him to the trolley station to get where he needed to go.
I had compassion on him, but never had I been so convicted that my compassion was extremely limited. It was defined more by what I was comfortable with than what he actually needed. I wasn’t interested in compassion that produced action in service to him, but rather in service to me. Now that does not mean that everyone would or even should do the same thing in that situation. Not at all. There would be some very legitimate reasons for another compassionate Christian not showing compassion the same way. The point is this: compassion does not necessarily start by asking what others would do in this situation, or even what I should do, but rather “What does this person need from me right now?”
That was what was always on Jesus’ mind: what does this person need from me right now? And while his compassion didn’t hesitate to take action to address immediate needs, his heart was always set on meeting the most important need. Even when it came to his enemies. Whatever their intention truly was behind warning Jesus about Herod – whether they had ulterior motives for speeding up his demise in Jerusalem, or because they were genuinely trying to help Jesus avoid the same fate as John the Baptist – Jesus’ compassion poured out in his heartfelt response to them. “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing” (v.34). And even their own rejection of him was not enough to sidetrack Jesus’ faithful determination to do what he was born to do! “In any case, I must press on today and tomorrow and the next day—for surely no prophet can die outside Jerusalem! (v.33). Compassion produces action. Faithful, determined Jesus would take action; he would suffer and die.
It’s interesting isn’t it – “compassion” has the word “Passion” in it? We refer to the final week of this season of Lent as Holy Week or Passion Week. That final Sunday, Palm Sunday, is sometimes also referred to as Passion Sunday. Why do we attach this label to that final Sunday and week of Jesus’ life? Because of his suffering that took place, his Passion. So Jesus’ compassion toward us would be of little value if it didn’t also include his Passion for us. It was his compassion that prompted his Passion, his suffering. Jesus wasn’t just about empty words for you. He wasn’t just about feelings or emotions regarding your situation. Jesus was about action – specifically, suffering, dying, and rising again for your sin and salvation. His compassion prompted him to carry out the one course of action that only he could, the one course of action that we all universally need, the one course of action that alone could serve to reconcile rebellious sinners with a righteous Father. Jesus’ heartfelt compassion carried him to the cross.
Have you noticed something yet about the three habits of his grace that we have looked at so far yet? They all have that in common. They all end up at the same place: the cross. Faithfulness, determination, compassion – all of them meet up at the cross. And guess what? Spoiler alert: so do the remaining three habits of his grace.
How then, do we establish in our own lives this compassion, this habit of his grace? We start by letting go of the lie, “It’s the thought that counts.” If we’re honest with ourselves, we’ve been far too comfortable living with that lie for far too long. Let’s either let it go, or at least be honest with ourselves that when we’re not willing to allow compassion to produce action, then it’s not really compassion. It might be sympathy or empathy, but it’s not compassion, because compassion produces action. And that’s OK – there is a time for empathy and a time for sympathy! Just realize they’re different from compassion.
So how does the Holy Spirit work this habit of his grace into our hearts and lives more and more? Each time we must begin our journey of compassion at the cross and go from there. We start with the compassion Christ had for us. Then, as we leave his cross and look to pick up ours as faithful, determined disciples look to do, our eyes will suddenly see myriad ways to carry out compassion toward others, and the Holy Spirit will help us to see how he has enabled and equipped us in such a variety of ways not just to feel, but to act. Not out of guilt – remember Christ’s compassion removed that! – but out of real, genuine compassion. It changes us when we receive it. It will change others when we extend it.