"The Strongest Word for Pity"
A Sunday Sermon Preached by
The Rev. Thomas C. Leinbach
June 15, 2008 - Harwich, Massachusetts

Preaching Text: "When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd." (Matthew 9:36)

Over the last few weeks, whether you realize it or not, the lectionary texts for each Sunday have been discussing a vexing, thorny issue: the stubborn persistence of sin, that exasperating defect of human nature that time and again asserts itself. From the first, we encounter in Genesis Adam and Eve, and their "original" sin, which consists of rejecting God's providential care, preferring their own force of will over and against their Creator's.

We then witness life "east" of Eden and see the beauty of life turn violent, crude and corrupt. Somehow the goodness God envisions for all of life is being horribly and tragically misused. Then comes the Flood, God's desperate? response to this evil, in an attempt to begin life anew with Noah and his descendants.

But once again evil rears its ugly head, among even this presumably godly, "righteous" clan. So what to do? Having promised Noah that never again would God purge life even amidst its worst disobedience and evil-doing (a "covenantal" promise sealed by the rainbow), God appoints and charges Abraham and his progeny to become the new means by which God turns humanity around, away from its basest instincts and set upon a new path toward salvation and godliness.

Jesus, of course, becomes the fulfillment or culmination of this "new" effort by offering the whole world this same salvation, first to Abraham's descendants, Israel, and eventually to everyone everywhere.

Today, the lectionary invites us to take the story one step further. Here, in Matthew's gospel, Jesus commissions his followers to carry forth this work, for there soon will be a time when his earthly ministry ends.

But this task is premised on something important, startling even.

Last week I told you that in Western Christianity the historical emphasis has been on personal sin and divine forgiveness, while in the East, the emphasis is more on God's healing of a more general disease that affects human nature. Nonetheless, both notions are based on the presumed fact that only God can cure what ails us.

The tendency, I think, is for us Western Christians to see sin as our own doing alone, as something over which we have personal control and for which we ultimately are responsible.

But here in Matthew we hear Jesus say something that at least ought to make us stop and think. As Jesus is walking from town to town proclaiming the "good news" (the message of salvation and liberation from sin), he looks at the crowds and is, as Matthew puts it, moved with "compassion" because of their suffering, oppression and, it must be noted, their helplessness.

Jesus' reaction is significant for two reasons. For one, he is acknowledging a kind of sin that comes not from within, but from without. Often the tendency for us modern Christians is to downplay the very notion of sin precisely because we reject the implication that we personally are responsible for all the ills of the world. Here, though, evil is attributed to forces outside of ourselves.

The other reason Jesus' response strikes a chord has to do with the original Greek word used and translated as "compassion." For it is, according to William Barclay, "the strongest word (in Greek) for pity."

Think about that. Rather than judgment (think the Flood!), Jesus offers instead pity, and not just in a small way, but pity that, we are told, is deep and powerful. It is a profoundly felt sadness and sorrow that comes from the very core of his being. Here Jesus, the embodiment of an all-mighty and powerful God, looks with heart-rending pity on the innocent pain and suffering he sees among those living in these nondescript, dusty, unnamed towns spread across the countryside.

So why is this so important? Because, if truth be told, many, if not most of us carry around a lot of pain, and sorrow…and guilt. There are, of course, those who never seem to take responsibility for anything, who blame others always for their difficulties or those in the world. But I'm not talking about them.

I'm talking about those who try to live a good life, who try to do the right thing, but who still feel the oppressive weight of undue failure, suffering and guilt. Though admittedly far from perfect, they nonetheless take more responsibility for life's failings than is properly justified. Not that we let on, mind you. We're New Englanders after all!

There is something deeply comforting about this agent of God who responds to our everyday struggles with compassion, a kind of compassion that touches the human heart deeply. Here one finds not an angry God seeking to wrack the earth with devastation, but a Creator moved to sympathetic tears for the suffering of this world's children, wherever that suffering may be found.

Have you ever known this kind of compassion? Have you ever felt keenly God's tender and sympathetic mercy? Have you ever had that experience of carrying the weight of anxiety, fear and guilt only to perceive suddenly the full power of God's heartrending concern for you?

If so, you know something of the gratitude that flows naturally from such a powerful experience.

There are times when we forget how much God cares for us. Instead we think only of a God who is about to zap us for our missteps. We forget that God's most basic desire, as revealed in Jesus' love for us, is to heal us, that we might know the joy and beauty of this life. We forget that God is our advocate, who continually seeks ways to bring us happiness and contentment. We forget that God is not content to allow life to be set against itself, for evil and suffering to go unchallenged. We forget that the God revealed in Jesus Christ hates evil but loves profoundly those He has made. That love cannot be put into words - its beauty being too holy.

Though life presents us continually with the crude, the violent and the corrupt, we ought not to despair. Instead we are to remember and gratefully receive the good news, Jesus' ongoing love and concern, and what it bequeaths: healing and wholeness. And having known and experienced this good news, it is we who must carry it forth, announcing and embodying to a world ever in need the hope and joy found in Christ.

Jesus has appointed and entrusted each and every one of us with this task, and not just to be disciples (students), but apostles, as those charged with actively bringing Christ's message to others.

Like Jesus, we look upon the world's sick, the world's pain, the world's hunger, the world's sorrow, the world's loneliness and the world's bewilderment and are moved with a sorrowful pity. But, also like Jesus, we are moved to offer that same world the good news of salvation, of joy and of peace. We are called upon to willingly sacrifice for others, suffering with and for them, while trusting in God's ever-present power to redeem, heal and make whole.

Amen.