Compassion

This coming Sunday is the 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Lectionary Cycle A. 

When Jesus heard of it he withdrew (v.13). News of John’s imprisonment by Antipas and now the report of John’s death has the same effect. As in 12:15 and 15:21 the withdrawal takes him away from a place of danger or confrontation. A direct confrontation with Antipas would not advance Jesus’ mission and, in the light of what had happened to John, was a risk to be avoided, especially in view of Antipas’ view of Jesus as a new John.

Matthew makes it clear that Jesus is seeking not just safety but also solitude for himself and his disciples. The disciples are not mentioned at this point, but their presence is always assumed when Matthew speaks of Jesus traveling (not least by boat, which needed a crew), and they will be present in v.15 (“When the disciples approached”). In the meantime the “neighborhood wire” is active, passing along the news that Jesus of Nazareth is in the area – and the crowds gather. Despite Jesus’ desire for solitude, he is now too popular to escape notice.

his heart was moved with pity for them (v.14). Given the sense in which “pity” is used in American English, many translations are opting for the appropriate “compassion.” Remember that Jesus’ short term objective was solitude and prayer. Yet his response is compassion for the people who have come to see him (whatever their motives) and are without food. It is the response of God to his people, and perhaps as importantly, it is the response of the Good Samaritan, the one who discerns God’s call to carry out God’s will. It is the response to the very human situation.

“This is a deserted place and it is already late; dismiss the crowds so that they can go to the villages and buy food for themselves.” The disciples are right to be concerned. Few towns were nearby, and towns were generally small, at most accommodating only a few visitors in towns of a few hundred people. Further, most of the day’s bread would be consumed by evening (Mt 14:15). It would have been nearly impossible for roughly ten thousand people (five thousand men plus women and children-v. 21) to fend for themselves in the countryside.

Given the numbers involved, Jesus’ response, “You give them something to eat,” must have seemed like a hollow joke; cf. Elisha’s similar command to his servant, 2 Kgs 4:42–43. Even their own provisions of five loaves and two fish are not enough for a group of thirteen. So had they been expecting to find hospitality (as in 10:9–13) somewhere nearby, despite the isolation of the area? If so, the arrival of the large crowd had upset their calculations. To surrender even this meager provision to Jesus was either an act of reckless obedience or evidence of a more confident faith in Jesus than we have seen the disciples displaying elsewhere. 


Image credit: James J. Tissot, ‘Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes’ (1886-94), Brooklyn Museum, NYC | PD-US

Kyrie Eleison

Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.” (Mark 10:47)  Chuck Roberts was not an exceptional person – at least not in the way the world would account for such things. He graduated high school, held a number of jobs, saved a little, married, and settled down to have a family. He was laid to rest at age 32 on a gray raining morning. His wife Marie and their two small children stood at the graveside – no money, no insurance, no near-by family. Chuck was the only wage earner. They had never been rich, but now they were on the edge of poor ready to tumble in head first. Continue reading

Compassion

At the sight of the crowds, Jesus’ heart was moved with pity for them.” “Moved with pity” …not exactly the way I think it should be translated into present day American English. Miriam Webster says that pity is (1) a: sympathetic sorrow for one suffering, distressed, or unhappy b: capacity to feel pity 2: something to be regretted, e.g. it’s a pity you can’t go.  There is something soft and passive about the way we understand “pity” in our modern milieu. Not exactly a clarion call for action. Yet that is exactly Jesus’ immediate reaction. Continue reading

Divine Mercy and Compassion

When reading Scripture, from time to time, I wonder why some words are translated the way that they are. Of course, sometimes the answer is as simple as our understanding of the meaning of the word in English is morphing and changing as the underlying Greek remains the same. In the Lukan account of the blind man on the roadside, Bartimeus cries out: “Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.” The underlying word is eléos – I would not have chosen to translate it as “pity” – the meaning is “to show mercy,” indicating a response roused by an underserved affliction in others. It denotes a kindness resulting from a relationship. Continue reading

When the carols are stilled

In today’s gospel, Jesus shows compassion for the multitude in the desert likening them to sheep without a shepherd – and He began to teach them many things. There are many lessons to be learned but perhaps the first lesson is compassion. The last two years have been years in which one only needs to look around and in the midst of political division, acrimony, and worse there are stories of great compassion. Stories which remind me of this first lesson.

As the Christmas season winds down, I am reminded of a poem by the theologian Howard Thurman:

When the carols have been stilled,
When the star-topped tree is taken down,
When family and friends are gone home,
When we are back to our schedules
The work of Christmas begins:
To welcome the refugee,
To heal a broken planet,
To feed the hungry,
To build bridges of trust, not walls of fear,
To share our gifts,
To seek justice and peace for all people,
To bring Christ’s light to the world

When the Song of the Angels is Stilled

Compassion

The gospel today is Luke’s account of the blind man on the roadside who cries out: “Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.”

The underlying word is eléos – I don’t know why they translate it as “pity” – the meaning is “to show mercy,” indicating a response roused by an underserved affliction in others. It denotes a kindness resulting from a relationship. Continue reading

Fatigue

In the dark days of December with the pandemic raging, we hoped for the availability of vaccinations. Vaccinations were announced, the infections seem to be retreating, we began to make plans for travel after the long discontent for our masks, restrictions, and the new normal which we hoped would not become normal at all. And then vaccinations slowed, masks were dropped, the Delta variant spread, fights broke out on airlines, governors levied fines against businesses requiring vaccines even as they claimed federal overreach, and the late summer saw an epic rise among the unvaccinated. A night show host, joking one hopes, suggested that unvaccinated people at the hospital should be a lower triage level than vaccinated people. Schools restarted, closed, went virtual, were protested for requiring and not requiring masks. Nobody likes wearing a mask. Why isn’t everyone vaccinated? What happened to personal liberty? Isn’t this supposed to be over.

But whatever your take on all of this, we are tired – we have pandemic fatigue. Continue reading

An Exodus to Compassion

gospel-of-markThis coming Sunday is the 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B, a gospel in which Jesus calls to the disciples. “Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while” As noted in yesterday’s post, it is not just the disciples who answer the call. A multitude of people respond and not just follow Jesus, but anticipate him so that when Jesus and the disciples put ashore, the people are already there in that deserted place. Perhaps the place which Moses and Joshua spoke of looking to a greater “rest” (anapausasthe) the word also used of our eternal reward – truly, the ultimate intention of God. In this way,  And so the people are on a second exodus to find rest. Continue reading

Come away and rest

“Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.”

Rest. A break from all the bustle and activity. A chance to renew, to stop, to slow. An end, a pause from work, if only for a little while. An opportunity to stop doing that you may simply be. A space in time to process, reflect upon, think, pray, to listen. We have lives filled with so much activity, so much work, so many obligations that the very idea of rest is as though the Holy Grail itself. Don’t get me wrong: this isn’t a complaint. I love my life, I love being in this parish. It’s more an observation that somewhere in all the things that make up a blessedly frenetic life, I think I’ve forgotten how to rest. It came to me last week as I stood in the very place where Jesus uttered those words to his disciples, realizing the deep need – and then someone on the tour asked, “Father, what do you think Jesus…” And the moment of my own musing and prayer passed. Continue reading

Life in mission: compassion

eremosA Heart Moved. 34 When he disembarked and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, for they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.

It is easy to imagine the groan of despair that must have gone up from the exhausted disciples, when they saw, long before they had reached the other shore, that the inevitable curious crowd had followed and the possibility of rest was fading. It is probable that this natural weariness accounts for the note of irritation in their question to Jesus in v.37, as well as their obvious hint in v.36 that the crowds had had more than enough teaching already: “36 Dismiss them so that they can go to the surrounding farms and villages and buy themselves something to eat.” 37 He said to them in reply, “Give them some food yourselves.” But they said to him, “Are we to buy two hundred days’ wages worth of food and give it to them to eat?” Continue reading