Texts:
Mark 6.30-34, 53-56
by Colleen Clayton
May I speak in the name of the Holy & Blessed Trinity, One God in three persons.
‘He couldn’t see her in the darkness, but there were plenty of faces he could remember from the old days which fitted the voice. When you visualized a man or woman carefully, you could always begin to feel pity … that was a quality God’s image carried with it … when you saw the lines at the corners of the eyes, the shape of the mouth, how the hair grew, it was impossible to hate. Hate was just a failure of imagination.’1
So writes Graham Greene in his tragic novel, ‘The Power and the Glory’. The story is of a failed priest during an anti-clerical purge in a southern state of Mexico. He is on the run from the authorities, but as he flees, it is his compassion for those he meets that slows him up and means that he will eventually be caught.
In this week’s Gospel, Jesus invites his disciples to come away with him to a quiet place to rest for awhile. But it is impossible. Everywhere they go, they are pursued by those wanting help, shepherdless sheep with never-ending needs, and Jesus meets them with compassion.
Jesus and the disciples get into a boat to go to a deserted place, but the crowd sees where they are going and runs ahead to meet them there. Jesus has compassion on them and begins to teach them.
The lectionary jumps from that verse to tell of Jesus and his disciples coming to land at Gennesaret, having crossed back over in the boat. Once again, Jesus is recognised and people rush about the whole district bringing to him everyone who is sick, and the compassion of Jesus means that if even the fringe of his cloak touches them, they are healed.
It is an extraordinary story of the depth of human need and desperation that existed around Jesus, need and desperation that still exists today. In an affluent society like ours, the needs might be less obvious, or easier to hide, but almost everyone carries pain that will not heal and which needs the touch of compassion.
The story of Jesus being relentlessly pursued by the crowds is also an exhausting tale of constant demands, with nowhere to escape to, no opportunity to rest and recover. The disciples have just come back from Jesus sending them out to proclaim the good news, but there is such need around them that even the slightest touch of compassion, the brush of the fringe, the very edge of love, brings healing. And, in the middle of the desperation is the calm and peace of the unfailing compassion of Jesus.
It is the power of this compassion that stills human hearts and transforms lives. It is the vulnerability of this compassion that will eventually take him to the cross. Jesus will not turn a blind eye to the aching heart of humanity. He will not ignore injustice or behave as though human need is of no importance. Even more remarkably, he will pour out his compassion on everyone who comes to him. There is no test to be passed before Jesus will help. He sees our need and he is moved by compassion. This is the grace of God, the unearned gift, extravagantly given.
Jesus does not offer us love with strings attached. He does not seek to control us. This is one of the great paradoxes of Christian faith. God gives to us, freely, without measure, without our need to be worthy. We then choose how we respond. The appropriate response to God’s gift of life is adoration and the desire to offer our best in return, but God’s compassion means that humanity is never compelled to accept God’s gifts, and we are always offered more than we choose to receive.
Graham Greene reflects on this kind of reality, writing that, ‘It was for this world that Christ had died: the more evil you saw and heard about you, the greater the glory lay around the death; it was too easy to die for what was good or beautiful, for home or children or civilization–it needed God to die for the half-hearted and the corrupt.’
Jesus’ compassion is offered to everyone, friends, strangers and enemies. He calls us to do the same: to love those who are not like us, to love those from whom we differ, to love those of whom we are afraid, to love even those we hate and those who hate us. There is no limit to the compassion of Jesus.
When you visualize a man or woman carefully, you can always begin to feel pity … that is a quality God’s image carries with it … when you see the lines at the corners of the eyes, the shape of the mouth, how the hair grows, it is impossible to hate. Hate is just a failure of imagination.
It is time for us to see others as Jesus does, so that in compassion, we can bring scattered, divided, hurting people back together, dissolving the barriers that separate people from each other, so that the compassion of Christ will rule our hearts, our communities and our world.
The Lord be with you.