The 1950s was a time when radio actually entertained people, instead of just having talk shows all day long. Today radio is a medium that seems to thrive solely on trashing politicians, celebrities, and of course football coaches! During the 1950s there was an ongoing series that served as filler between regular broadcast shows. This series featured Carl Reiner as a reporter interviewing a supposedly 2000-year-old man, played by Mel Brooks. The shtick was centered on the 2000 year-old man making comments that were farfetched, but at the same time reflected painfully and accurately on the human condition. One of these vignettes has Reiner asking Brooks, “What did you do for entertainment 2000 years ago? Things must have been very boring.” “Oh no,” replies the 2000 year old man. “We had plenty of good tragedy and comedy.” “Really! Can you give our listeners an example of what you are talking about?” asks Reiner. Brooks replies, “Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you don’t look where you are going and fall in a hole and die.”
Therein lies the tale. We are often insensitive to the pratfalls of others, and they can even be the objects of laughter if not too injurious. This type of humor has made big stars out of many performers. Slapstick comedians such as Charlie Chaplin and the Three Stooges used such routines to milk their audiences for laughs. Why do people laugh at such apparently cruel pratfalls? It is generally thought this makes many people laugh with relief that it isn’t happening to them. It’s the other guy who is looking ridiculous by slipping on a banana peel — thank goodness it isn’t me! (Personally, I’ve never cared for this type of so-called humor, but to each his own.)
The moral of this story is that we can often be insensitive to the plight of others, no matter how serious (falling in the hole and dying), yet we are keenly sensitive to even the slightest pain or inconvenience that we suffer personally (cutting our finger). A person who is insensitive to the pain of others lacks compassion, and anyone lacking compassion fails miserably in emulating the character of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Let us take a closer look at this little word, compassion.
The English word “compassion” is derived from the primary root word “passion”, having a Latin origin. “Passionem” in the Latin originally meant “the suffering of pain”. By adding the prefix “com”, one extends the meaning to include a sense of “together, in combination, in union”. However, even though “compassion” is derived from “passion”, the link between the two has clearly diverged in common English usage since the 1611 King James Bible. For example, if I told you Mary had a great passion for music you would hardly suppose that she ‘suffered’ through musical programs; in fact, you would think quite the opposite. The meaning of ‘passion’ in modern American English is now understood in the opposite sense from what it originally meant. 1The word ‘passion’ appears only once in the King James Version of our Bibles (Acts 1:3), and the meaning is unequivocally ‘suffering’. Both the New King James and the New International Versions concede the divergence from modern English and eliminate the word ‘passion’ in this passage, using instead ‘suffering’.
Remarkably, the word “compassion” has not changed its meaning since 1611. Its primary meaning is still ‘suffering together with another’, i.e., sharing another’s pain. 2The word appears 39 times in the KJV and an astonishing 73 times in the NIV; it is a translation for at least six different Hebrew and six different Greek words. The best way to get a deep sense of what the Scriptures mean by “compassion” is carefully to read our Bibles and to appreciate how this concept is put into living action.
Compassion in the Old Testament
The psalmist informs us of the character of the Lord God in dealing with the disobedience of the children of Israel:
“But He, being full of compassion, forgave their iniquity, and did not destroy them. Yes, many a time He turned His anger away, and did not stir up all His wrath” (Psa. 78:38, NKJV).
In writing this psalm, Asaph perhaps had in mind what had happened to Judah in the days of Pekah, king of Israel (see 2 Chron. 28): As a punishment for the sins of Judah, God allowed the Northern Kingdom to “carry away captive of their brethren two hundred thousand, women, sons, and daughters, and took also away much spoil from them, and brought them to Samaria” (2 Chron. 28:8). But the LORD had compassion upon them in spite of their sins, and sent the prophet Oded to remind Israel of their own sins:
“Are there not with you, even with you, sins against the LORD your God?” (v. 10).
What follows is remarkable. Heeding the admonition of the prophet and apparently of their own volition, “certain of the heads of the children of Ephraim” (v. 12) undertook a massive act of compassion:
“Then the men who were designated by name (i.e., in v. 12) rose up and took the captives, and from the spoil they clothed all who were naked among them, dressed them and gave them sandals, gave them food and drink, and anointed them; and they let all the feeble ones ride on donkeys. So they brought them to their brethren at Jericho, the city of palm trees. Then they returned to Samaria” (v. 15, NKJV).
This was an enormous act of compassion on the part of ‘certain of the heads’ of the children of Ephraim. Moreover, they had to stand up to the power of a returning victorious army and deprive them of their spoils in order to carry out this act of mercy and kindness to their defeated enemies (vv. 13,14). It is an example that seems to have had almost no counterpart in contemporary conflicts in the modern world — genocide seems far more prevalent than even the smallest acts of compassion. We might do well to consider whether our own actions in the ecclesia are as magnanimous in dealing with those who have offended us. Do we offer them compassion — knowing that we too have sinned? Or are we instead guilty of attempting to extract measure for measure?
Compassion in the New Testament
We are told “the LORD is gracious and full of compassion” (Psa. 111:4). We are also told that the best way, as always, to appreciate fully the character of the Lord God is to see how it was reflected in His Son the Lord Jesus Christ. As Jesus set out to preach his gospel message, he was moved to compassion when he realized how lost the people were, like “sheep having no shepherd”. Then He said to His disciples, “The harvest truly is plentiful, but the laborers are few” (Matt. 9:35-38, NKJV). If this was the situation in the first century AD, think how much greater the disparity must be today. Yet do we exhibit the same compassion for this state of things, or are we content to hide our candle under a bushel (Matt. 5:15, Mark 4:21, Luke 11:33)?
How much compassion do we have for the world around us? Do we recognize its need for salvation, or is our attention focused on our little circle of family and our ecclesial clique of comfortable friends? In North America we have spent an inordinate amount of time, energy and expense preaching to each other, instead of cooperating to bring in the harvest in unity (Psa. 133:1). We have been marvelous in seeing the mote in others’ eyes and have usually been oblivious to the beam in our own. If the same amount of resources that has been devoted to unity efforts had been spent in helping small ecclesias grow, in planting new ecclesias where none previously existed, in recovering lost sheep and further strengthening our young so they can withstand the buffeting of a virtually godless world, how much spiritually richer would our community be today?
We here in North America are living amongst the most educated and religiously aware communities in the entire world. We have freedom to preach and practice our faith, a freedom we often take for granted. This freedom is far greater than that of many other nations around the globe — lands where brethren and sisters labor under conditions of poverty, religious intolerance, and political unrest. Yet ironically, even though the population in North America has grown by 300% since 1940, the total number of Christadelphians has hardly changed. As a percent of the total population our numbers have actually declined. We can make excuses for our shortcomings. In the end, however, the Father will hold us accountable, for He will know whether or not we as a community have acted wisely or foolishly in carrying out His will (1 Tim. 2:4).
“Jesus wept” — Why?
John 11:35 is well known as the shortest passage in Scripture. It is also among the most poignant. But why exactly was he weeping? Was it compassion for the sorrow of his friends Mary and Martha in their loss of their brother Lazarus? Possibly. A careful reading of the text presents us with an alternative. John 11:33 tells us that, upon returning to Bethany, Jesus saw not only Martha and Mary crying, but “the Jews also which came with her”. This caused Jesus to groan and be troubled in spirit. The reason for this groaning had nothing to do with Mary and Martha. The narrative in verse 37 makes it plain that the Jews questioned his authority and power:
“Could not this man, who opened the eyes of the blind, also have kept this man from dying?”
We next read that Jesus ‘again’ groaned; this little word ‘again’ connects us back to verse 33, where he groaned the first time. It appears that Jesus’ sorrow was not just a compassionate response to the pain of Mary and Martha, but also most assuredly a deep sorrow because of the unbelief he knew was in the hearts of the Jews who were witnesses to the death of Lazarus. This is made plain by the words of Jesus in verse 41:
“Father, I thank You that You have heard Me” (NKJV).
Jesus could have uttered these thoughts silently in his mind, and they would have been just as effective. But he spoke loudly to the crowd gathered around the tomb of Lazarus, so that none would doubt the immediacy of the answer to his prayer. Jesus had felt the pain of Lazarus’ death, but also sorrow for the unbelief that had infected the accompanying crowd. His compassion for us in times of pain includes the same factors. Our faith in Jesus should suffice to cover both our immediate sorrows and also the tendency to lose our faith when faced with calamity. If we had the faith of Martha who, when faced with the pain of losing her brother, could say: “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day” (v. 24), then the compassion of Jesus would comfort us even now.
The compassion of Jesus
There are so many examples in Scripture of the compassion of our Lord Jesus Christ that one could virtually write a chapter expounding on each instance and still not capture the full measure of the power of his love in sharing our suffering. There was the compassion he had for the widow of Nain, which culminated in the resurrection of her child (Luke 7:11-15), and the healing of the man possessed with demons that were transferred to the herd of swine (Mark 5:1-20) — to name just two instances. We recall the teachings of Jesus concerning the nature of true compassion, as illustrated in the parables of the Prodigal Son and the Good Samaritan. The compassion Jesus had for the multitudes that followed him on two occasions, who “were like sheep not having a shepherd” (Mark 6:34) and who hungered so much for the words of Christ that they had “nothing to eat” for three days (Mark 8:2), also deserves our attention. While the actual miracle of feeding thousands with just a meager number of loaves and a few fish is noteworthy in itself, it may not even be the key element in the account.
What stands out strikingly in all these cases is that compassion was always followed by action. The widow of Nain has her son restored to life. The man possessed with demons is made whole. The father forgives and restores his prodigal son, and the Good Samaritan succors and carries the injured wayfarer on his own account. Jesus fed the multitudes that followed him into the wilderness both spiritually, with the gospel message, and physically, with an abundance of bread and fish. In this latter example we are treated with the stunning result that even though only a few loaves and fish were originally available, nevertheless — after the loving compassion of Jesus went into action —there were leftovers amounting to 12 baskets of fragments in the first case and seven in the second. When the Lord offers us compassion, he is not stingy in providing for us. Neither should we be hesitant or reluctant in offering compassion to others.
Takers and givers
It has been said that there are only two kinds of people in this world: “takers” and “givers”. Takers are selfish; they are only concerned with their own needs. They are always demanding things of others. Takers often will spend irresponsibly and will let you down at every turn if you depend on them for anything. Takers always want to know, consciously or unconsciously, “What’s in it for me?”
On the other hand, givers are considerate of the needs of others. If someone is in trouble, they will always dig deep to provide emotional, physical and financial support. Givers are usually the first ones to volunteer if a job needs to be done. If they say they will do something, you can bank on it. Givers are willing to sacrifice themselves for others, while takers expect everyone else to make sacrifices for them. In short, givers are compassionate people and takers are not. What sort of people ought we to be?
The greatest compassion
The gospel of John records these words of Jesus:
“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13).
This was the ultimate act of unselfish compassion. We can go one step further and consider the compassion of our heavenly Father:
“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).
By these examples, we know what sort of persons we ought to be if we are to be his disciples. We must be givers, compassionate to the needs of others even when self-sacrifice may be needed.
May the world know by our compassionate actions that we are truly the brethren of Christ.
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One