Compassion

Seems like everyone these days is coughing, sniffling, sneezing. It was at our house earlier this winter. Over the course of a few hours, my son’s cold morphed into a sinus infection. I could see it in his eyes, and the way he winced when he moved his head. Of course it was the weekend, and the doctor’s office wouldn’t open until Monday morning. 

It’s bad enough to be sick, but somehow it’s a little bit worse when you’re sick on your birthday. He curled up on the sofa, the picture of misery, while we ate his special birthday dinner. The more pathetic he looked, the more my heart filled with compassion.

The Greek word for compassion means something like “to be moved to the bowels.” Maybe it’s a bit like the English phrase “gut wrenching”. It’s a physical reaction to seeing someone else’s needs. It’s more than just feeling sorry for another person – it’s your insides doing a flip. 

The Bible uses this word to describe Jesus’ response to the desperation of the crowds that sought Him – “He felt compassion for them” (Matthew 9:36); “He had compassion” (Matthew 14:14); “[Jesus was] moved with compassion” (Matthew 20:34). Jesus doesn’t just feel sorry for us – our suffering touches Him at the gut-level. 

The Hebrew word for compassion is closely related to the word for womb. This makes sense – compassion holds its object in the innermost parts. It seeks to shelter, protect and provide. It’s the care of a parent for a beloved child.

If I could have traded places with my son when he was sick, I would have, but some circumstances are beyond our ability to change. Jesus has never had that happen. In each of the instances mentioned above, Jesus acted. He exerted His power on behalf of the hurting: “Wherever he went, he healed people of every sort of disease and illness” (Matthew 9:35); “he healed their sick” (Matthew 14:14); “he touched their eyes. Instantly they could see!” (Matthew 20:34) It’s the whole reason He came – to do for us what we were helpless to do for ourselves. He suffered together with us and emerged triumphant over every affliction, to strengthen our hope that suffering isn’t the end of our story.

“Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits - who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.”
Psalm 103:2-5 NIV

90 miles

Ninety miles, give or take. That’s how far Mary and Joseph probably traveled to reach Bethlehem. Ninety miles, crossing mountains and rivers, and passing through the hostile territory of Samaria. And Mary was “great with child” (Luke 2:5). It wasn’t easy for Mary and Joseph to get to Bethlehem.

But they had to get there because the Messiah was to be born in Bethlehem. I don’t know why God chose Mary in particular – although her response to the angel Gabriel is so stunningly beautiful that I love her without ever having met her (Luke 1:46-55). And I certainly don’t know why He didn’t place Mary in Bethlehem instead of Nazareth, thus sparing her the arduous trip at the end of her pregnancy.

What I do know is that God is a promise-keeper. What He says will happen, happens. So a pagan king, Caesar Augustus, decided that he needed to know how many people he ruled. And Mary and Joseph had to make that 90 mile trek. And Jesus, the Messiah, was born in Bethlehem.  At just the right time, just as God said.

It’s not too much of a stretch to imagine what Mary and Joseph’s 90 mile journey was like. But there’s a third traveler in this story – Jesus. How far did He have to travel to Bethlehem? So much farther than the 90 miles Mary carried Him. The Bible tells us that Jesus is the visible image of the invisible God (Colossians 1:15-17). He’s the Creator of all that is seen and unseen, the macrocosm of the universe and the microcosm of the human body. He holds all creation together. You can only do that if you’re bigger than the thing you’re holding. All creation – that means bigger than the biggest star in our galaxy, which is probably something like 7000 million million Earths.

This is the One who “gave up his divine privileges… took the humble position of a slave, and was born as a human being” (Philippians 2:7). Which brings us right back to Bethlehem. What did it take for Jesus to get to Bethlehem? He had to give up His heavenly rights, His position of power and majesty, and humble Himself. If He had chosen to come as a king in a palace, it still would have been a step down for Him. But He went even lower, to a tiny baby in a manger in a stable in a rural backwater. What a vast distance He traveled to get there!

The distance that separates Earth from that giant star is 4,892 light years – mind-boggling, beyond comprehension for most of us. The distance that separates us from the One holding that star, all the stars, all of us, is even greater. It is so great, we could never hope to cover it. That’s why Jesus traveled to Bethlehem. He knew it was a journey we could never make.

How about you? How far do you have to travel to get to Bethlehem? Sometimes getting to Christ seems as impossible as traveling from that giant star to the manger in a barn. Sometimes our pit is so deep, we feel like we’ll never even see the light of day. But really the trip happens the instant we kneel before Him.

At some point, every one of us will come to worship that tiny King (Isaiah 45:23). Thanks be to God, we don’t even have to travel 90 miles.  On that day, Christ will journey from Heaven to Earth again.  This time, He will come revealed as King in all His power and majesty and bring Heaven to us for always.

This is the way to have eternal life – to know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, the one you sent to earth.  John 17:3