Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Gut Wrenching Jesus...


“As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them…”

This is one of my favorite verses taken from this past Sunday’s gospel reading.  Up to this point in Mark’s story, Jesus and his apostles have been healing and teaching like crazy – they’ve been swamped by crowds of folks hungering and thirsting for healing and wholeness – folks who have seen a glimpse of the Kingdom and want more.  They have been ravenous for new life.  In fact the crowds have been so overwhelming, there’s been no time to eat.
 
Finally, seeing the need for rest, Jesus invites the Twelve to come away with him to a “deserted place”.   So, they get into a boat by themselves and not even a single verse passes before they are recognized again by more crowds in what can only be described as pandemonium.  Jesus and the Twelve have definitely attained “rock star” status.

So what does Jesus do in the face of more crowds?  If it were me, my introverted side would take over and I would probably turn the boat around looking for an even more deserted place; staying out on the water all night if that’s what it took to catch a break from the throngs of people.
 
But that’s not what Jesus does.  Rather than seeing mindless crowds of people looking for a free hand-out, Jesus’ eyes see something different.  Jesus sees beloved people fashioned in the divine image of their creator and he has compassion for them.  Having compassion; now that sounds safe.  We all like to think that when push comes to shove we play well with others; that our hearts are full of compassion.  Except what Mark is referring to here is not compassion of the heart.  The greek word for compassion literally translates as “gut-wrenching”.  Upon seeing the broken and hurting people, Jesus’ stomach turns somersaults.  In other words, not only does Jesus’ heart feel for the people, but so too does his stomach.  For Jesus, hunger and brokenness is not academic.  It’s enough to make him feel sick to his stomach.  Jesus’ breath is wrenched away.

If that kind of compassion is good enough for Jesus, maybe it’s good enough for us as well.  I wonder if we in the church are even capable of that kind of compassion.  In the face of numeric decline both in pews and in bank accounts, are we really able to feel gut wrenching compassion for the broken, hurting, and dispossessed around us?  I tend to think not.  Oh sure, we’re nice people.  We have our “cute” little table prayers that affirm “God is great, God is good...”;  we can agree that the “golden rule” is a noble way to live our lives; sometimes, we might even find ourselves talking about poverty, violence and racism. But when push comes to shove, are these the concerns that cause us to be ill?  Does another murder in our city keep us awake at night wondering where Jesus is in the midst of it and how we might be God’s instruments of peace?  Do we even give a thought to the single mom in the RAIHN program, working two jobs and unable to make ends meet?  Do our stomachs churn restlessly as we continue to remember and mourn what happened in Charleston a few weeks ago? Or have we taken the media's lead and stopped making ourselves aware of the racism around us and in us?

Sadly, this is often where Jesus and the church part ways.  In Mark’s gospel, Jesus and his followers go on to feed thousands on a hillside, while the church continues to seek its own survival; looking to its financial bottom line as an indicator of health.  Yes, we are those folks hungering and thirsting for wholeness.  But we are also the church, named and claimed by God in the waters of Baptism to bear God’s creative and redeeming word to all the world.  We are tired and broken and yet we are fed each week that we may feed.

We are the church and the church is not called to survive.  We are called to be poured out in love for the world.  Because love first found its way to us on the Cross of Christ, we are compelled to the gut wrenching compassion that stops at nothing to love the loveless, feed the hungry, and heal the broken.  As far as I can tell, Jesus never counted the cost of such compassion; so why in the world would we?

Peace and Love,

Pastor Doug

No comments:

Post a Comment