Jesus traveled through all the towns and villages of that area, teaching in the synagogues and announcing the Good News about the Kingdom. And he healed every kind of disease and illness. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them because they were confused and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. [Matthew 9:35-36 (NLT)]
My summer beach novel began with a man having a heart attack on a commuter train. For the next several pages, I was privy to the thoughts of his fellow passengers who were annoyed by the train’s unscheduled stop for medical aid. Because they’d be delayed, they saw the man’s collapse as a tremendous inconvenience to them. As passengers disembarked to find another way into the city, their thoughts were not of the dying man and his wife but of themselves and how they’d been inconvenienced.
My husband has been on a commuter train that was delayed because someone deliberately stepped onto the tracks in front of the train. His fellow passengers were like those in my novel. Their words were about themselves and how the delay negatively affected them. They seemed to forget that this person’s death had ruined more than a day for his family and friends—let alone the train’s engineer who’d become an unwilling accomplice in a suicide.
Back in the days of typewriters, my friend Gaye taught typing at the local junior college. When a student with only one arm entered her classroom, rather than empathy for the challenges he faced trying to conquer a keyboard, she thought of the problems his handicap posed for her as his teacher. Like the train passengers and Gaye, we usually see life through the eyes of self-concern. Forgetting that it really isn’t about us and we’re not the center of the world, our self-interest often undermines our compassion, patience, and understanding.
Surely all those people who followed Jesus and pled for healing inconvenienced and delayed our Lord, but we never read of Him sending anyone away because He was too busy or had better things to do. Jesus didn’t complain about walking to Jairus’ house or being delayed by the woman with the blood issue. Spotting a tax collector in need of forgiveness, He stopped for Zacchaeus and, hearing a blind man beg for mercy, He called for Bartimaeus. Rather than complain about interruptions or inconvenience, Jesus showed mercy, sympathy, patience, and kindness.
“It must be hard for you,” said a stranger to Anne as she maneuvered the walker into her car. “Yes,” she admitted, “but it’s much harder for my aunt who has Parkinson’s!” Although she was inconvenienced by the challenges of caregiving, Anne knows that Parkinson’s is no picnic for her aunt either. On the days she resents the extra weight placed on her shoulders, Anne remembers it is worse for the woman whose weight she is carrying. When she considers life from her aunt’s position, any resentment or feeling of inconvenience is replaced by love and compassion. Isn’t that what doing unto others really means? To truly do unto others, we need to put ourselves in the other person’s shoes instead of complaining about a little scuff on ours!
Christ and compassion go hand in hand but compassion doesn’t always come easily. It’s only human to have our first response be, “What does this mean to me?” or “How will I be affected?” It may be human, but it’s not Christ-like.
The first question which the priest and the Levite asked was: “If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?” But the good Samaritan reversed the question: “If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?” [Martin Luther King, Jr.]