Pentecost 12--August 3, 2008

“The Measure of Compassion”

Matt. 14:14
“When He went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on
them and healed their sick.”
In the Name of Jesus. Amen.
Think for a moment of how much importance we place on measuring.
• We measure our height, weight, or waistline.
• Experts measure the health of the economy based on how well the
Dow is doing.
• We measure success in Iraq according to troop numbers or
casualties.
• In the church we try to measure success based on how many
people attend or how much money they give.

Sometimes measuring is good. Imagine cooking without measuring—

perhaps putting in a cup of baking of baking soda instead of a
teaspoonful. Or a carpenter who doesn’t care whether his cut needs to
be one inch or two.
We even find measurements in God’s word—for in the Gospel
lesson today we are told that Jesus fed over 5,000 people, that He did so
with only five loaves and two fish, And when all had eaten and were
satisfied twelve baskets full of left-overs were collected. All of these
measurements serve to give us an indication of the magnitude of this
miracle.

1
 In spite of all this measuring, we know that the most significant
aspects of the Christian Faith—like grace, forgiveness and faith—
cannot be measured. Such is the case here-- for the compassion of
Christ Jesus—which was the essential ingredient that provided the
motivation for performing this miracle could not, and can not, be
measured.
The full weight of this word “compassion” is difficult to capture in
English. We might use metaphors like pity or empathy, but those don’t
carry the same impact. For the word “compassion” literally means that
a person is SO moved by others that they are literally turned inside out.
That they forget themselves—their own wants, needs or desires, and
give of themselves entirely for the sake of others. It’s not surprising
therefore that this word for compassion is one that is not found very
frequently in the Scriptures, and when it is, it almost always applies to
Jesus. Why is that? Because the kind of compassion being described is
so unique that it is seldom seen among sinful human beings. It is
contrary to our human nature to be so moved by another person that we
would DO anything, GIVE anything for them. And to do so completely
unselfishly, without the desire to receive anything in return—even the
self satisfaction that comes with having done a good deed. While we
like to think of ourselves as compassionate and caring, we are more like
the disciples than we care to admit. We’d rather not be bothered by the
needs of others.
But not Jesus. We’re told that He had just heard of the death of
his friend, John the Baptist, and that He had gone away by Himself—
probably to pray, perhaps to mourn. Yes, the Lord Jesus mourns. As
perfect man He feels sadness, just like we do. And as holy God He

2
knows our sadness and provides comfort for us in our grief. And
though Jesus desired to be alone, the crowds followed Him. Rather than
sending them away, He had compassion on them. He healed their sick,
and fed them. Mark tells us He taught them as well. All acts of full of
compassion, prompted by a God full of love.
A love that is also different from ours, because, among other
things, it can’t be measured. Yes, we keep track of our love—the love
we show to others, or the love they show to us. We think of those we
love more—and shower them with gifts intended to reflect that love; or
those we love less.
But that is not how God in Christ Jesus thinks. He makes no such
distinctions—He simply loves—as we are told in Titus:
When the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, He saved
us.
The love of God in Christ Jesus is pure, holy and sacrificial. It is
a giving, not a getting, love. We see the difference so clearly illustrated
in the Gospel lesson. The disciples don’t want to be bothered by the
multitude. They want them sent away. Not Jesus. He has something to
give them. He has taught them the Word, and now He desires to feed
them for free, without charge, fulfilling the words of the prophet Isaiah.
But this is what makes Christ’s compassion so challenging for us
—because it is free. And we have a difficult time receiving gifts. We
want to be able to pay someone back for the nice things they have done
for us. That is what we desire to do with the grace and mercy of God in
Christ Jesus. But like the multitude, we have nothing of value to offer
Jesus. But even if we did, it wouldn’t be enough, because the grace,
mercy and compassion of Christ Jesus is beyond value.

3
 Unfortunately, it is far too frequently NOT valued. Perhaps
that’s because of what we said to begin with—You just can’t measure it.
Think about it—You can “evaluate” a pastor’s sermon—many people
do so simply based on the length—but how do you measure the
compassion he has for the people hearing that sermon?
Or how do you measure the compassion of a congregation? It’s
easy to take a count every Sunday to determine how many people are
here. But how do we know whether you are here out of love for God
and others—or simply because it’s where you feel obligated to be on a
Sunday? Furthermore, even if you have gathered in faith, how can that
faith be measured? How can anyone tell whether your faith in Christ
translates into genuine love and concern and compassion for others?
Even if we observe you participating in a compassionate act—visiting a
member in the hospital, helping with VBS, sending a card or cooking a
meal for someone in need—how does one know that it is genuine?
A previous congregation I served had a food pantry on site. Once
a week we would distribute food to those who came. Various
parishioners would come in advance to box and bag the food. One day I
heard some VERY loud noises coming from the food pantry. I went to
investigate. As I drew near, I heard two of the workers complaining
loudly about what they were doing—or better put, who they were doing
it for. They were surprised to see me standing at the door, and even
more surprised by what I said. “God doesn’t want us to serve Him with
a spirit of resentment towards others. I would suggest that if you can’t
do this joyfully, then you no longer do it.”
Their act, because it was not accompanied by a Christ-like
attitude, simply did not qualify as being compassionate. Perhaps they

4
thought that their actions were being measured by God, and they would
receive credit for them. I don’t know. I DO know that we can’t
measure compassion, and we shouldn’t.
In truth, there is only one measure of compassion—it is the
measure set by Christ Jesus. The compassion of Christ is evident long
before He feeds the multitude. It is seen in the simple fact that Jesus
Christ, true God, was willing to take on human flesh and become true
man. The incarnation is a measure of His compassion. But it is not
THE measure of His compassion. That measure is about 12 feet high by
six feet across. You know what I speak of, don’t you? It is the measure
of the cross.
In compassion Christ Jesus was compelled to die on the cross. On
the way there He was turned inside out for the sake of others. When He
arrived the multitudes and even His own disciples left Him, yet His
compassion did not leave them. He had compassion for the thief, and
His mother Mary, and even for the many witnessing the scene. Perhaps
there were some standing there whose mouths were previously filled
with bread and fish. If so, they were most likely now filled with guile as
they spat out their curses.
Yes, we see the compassion of Christ as He dies on the cross. It is there
that He loves and has compassion on those who fail to show compassion
for Him. Think of it, we don’t hear of people going near Him to offer
him water or to tend His wounds. The closest we get is Simon of Cyrene
who is forced to help carry the cross, and a sponge of sour vinegar
offered as a drink while He died. People treat stray animals better than
they treated Jesus.

5
 But this too, was intentional. For in so doing Jesus was suffering
for—and forgiving—all of the sins of a compassion-less people. Not just
Pilate or the soldiers or the people of His day—but you and me. Yes, He
has forgiven you and me for our failure to be compassionate. The cross
marks the ultimate act of human compassion—for there God took the
loveless sins of a compassion-less people upon Himself. But His
compassion is not limited to that one locale. He continues to lovingly
bestow His compassion upon multitudes.
In baptism He covers you with His compassion, washing away the
guilt and punishment for sins.
In communion He compassionately feeds you. He invites you to
come and eat and drink—to be fed on the bread of life.
In compassion He teaches you. He invites you to incline your ear
and hear—to listen, learn, and believe in this message of love and grace
and mercy given in Christ.
And having received His mercy and compassion, as part of His
body, the church, He invites and encourages you to give generously to
others; not measuring, but treasuring, all that He has given for you.
Amen.