Compassion

There are two stories of healings recorded in successive chapters of Luke’s gospel (chapters 13 and 14) which teach us something absolutely foundational about Christian discipleship, namely compassion. Disciples of Jesus are people who care for those who are suffering. Let’s look at those two stories.

One Sabbath day as Jesus was teaching in a synagogue, he saw a woman who had been crippled by an evil spirit. She had been bent double for eighteen years and was unable to stand up straight. When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, “Dear woman, you are healed of your sickness!” Then he touched her, and instantly she could stand straight. How she praised God!
But the leader in charge of the synagogue was indignant that Jesus had healed her on the Sabbath day. “There are six days of the week for working,” he said to the crowd. “Come on those days to be healed, not on the Sabbath.”
But the Lord replied, “You hypocrites! Each of you works on the Sabbath day! Don’t you untie your ox or your donkey from its stall on the Sabbath and lead it out for water? This dear woman, a daughter of Abraham, has been held in bondage by Satan for eighteen years. Isn’t it right that she be released, even on the Sabbath?”
This shamed his enemies, but all the people rejoiced at the wonderful things he did.

Luke 13:10-17 NLT

One Sabbath day Jesus went to eat dinner in the home of a leader of the Pharisees, and the people were watching him closely. There was a man there whose arms and legs were swollen. Jesus asked the Pharisees and experts in religious law, “Is it permitted in the law to heal people on the Sabbath day, or not?” When they refused to answer, Jesus touched the sick man and healed him and sent him away. Then he turned to them and said, “Which of you doesn’t work on the Sabbath? If your son or your cow falls into a pit, don’t you rush to get him out?” Again they could not answer.

Luke 14:1-6 NLT

When we read these stories, it’s easy for those of us who work in healthcare to be distracted by clinical questions: what was the diagnosis in each case? Ankylosing spondylitis? Heart failure? We can also be puzzled by Luke’s willingness to perpetuate a supernatural worldview since he was purportedly a doctor. How could a doctor, being a scientist, accept that disease could be caused by satanic bondage? Yet Luke’s worldview was very different from ours, and he does not question the contemporary understanding that here was a woman “crippled by an evil spirit.” But what makes us so certain that our modern “naturalistic” scientific rationalism is superior to Luke’s worldview? There is no evidence, I hear people cry! But philosophically such a viewpoint is hard to justify. Our modern understanding of evidence is lacking in many areas. I could write a whole reflection on such questions.

But I don’t want to be distracted by such questions, because I believe that Jesus’s focus in these situations was not these questions was not medical or philosophical debates, but the teaching and demonstration of one of the most important attitudes of the disciple, namely compassion. 

The interaction between Jesus and the religious leaders serves to highlight the difference in their priorities. Jesus sees a woman who is suffering, and moved by compassion, heals her, without regard to which day of the week it is. The leader of the synagogue does not see the woman, or the need for deliverance from Satan. He sees only an infringement of Sabbath law. At a time when there were not medical practices and hospitals scattered through the community the synagogue was probably the natural place in the community to seek healing. But not on the Sabbath, because then the sick person would be asking the synagogue leader to work, since healing in their minds was work, not something for the Sabbath day. Jesus, however, did not see healing that way. For him, physical healing was as much a thing of the Spirit as of the body. And such things belonged to the Sabbath as much as to any other day. Jesus was not plagued by the Greek idea of separation of body, mind and spirit. He understood that a person’s sick body could be as much a malady of the spirit as of the flesh, and the healing of the body was as much a spiritual thing as the healing of the body. Furthermore, he understood that there were laws of the Spirit that were over and above the laws of the Sabbath.

How easy it is for all of us, like the religious leaders, to ignore suffering when we focus on the wrong thing, or when we ignore God’s priorities. How important it is for us, like Jesus, to keep our focus on the people around us and the mind of God, rather than getting preoccupied wth our own agendas, whatever they might be. 

Jesus is hard on the leader of the synagogue, pointing out his hypocrisy. He knows that this very same person would not hesitate to “work” on the Sabbath if one of his own children or animals was suffering. Jesus confronts him so bluntly because the man is not prepared to treat an ordinary person in the same way. Jesus is angry because this religious leader places rules above compassion, thus showing his misunderstanding of the nature and character of a loving God. His message is clearly not intended for this one individual synagogue leader, but for all the religious leaders who had been watching him, trying to find fault, trying to catch him out. Jesus’s response, according to Luke, “shamed his enemies.” 

In the second story, the Pharisees are more circumspect. They are simply observing as Jesus is faced with a similar situation, and Jesus is very aware that they are watching him closely, looking for some legal infringement for which they can condemn him. Jesus knows their thoughts and their intentions and this time challenges the Pharisees before he acts. He puts the ball in their court, asking them what is right to do, since it is the Sabbath, when there is a man suffering from a disease in front of them, and Jesus has it in his power to heal him. Having learnt from the previous experience, the Pharisees this time say nothing. Jesus heals the man. He gives his onlookers the same advice, presenting his onlookers with a question: “which of you doesn’t work on the Sabbath?”

What do we learn from all this? It would seem that there are two laws, two principles, which govern our behaviour as people of God. There is the law of the Sabbath, set down in the Old Testament, a law given to Moses by God – remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy. Do no work on the Sabbath, just as God did no work of the seventh day. Jesus never contradicts this law. But there is also the law of compassion, the law of love. You shall love your neighbour as yourself. 

Jesus seems to imply that there is a hierarchy of laws, and that there will be times when the Sabbath law will need to be put aside for the more important law of compassion. I wonder if this is what Paul the Apostle was thinking about when he wrote the following words, many years later:

Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death.

Romans 8:1-2 NIV

The Pharisees were all ready to condemn Jesus for his apparent infringement of the Sabbath law, but Jesus invokes the “law of the Spirit who gives life,” which sets us free from the “law of sin and death.” It was this “law of the Spirit” which the Pharisees did not understand, and the outworking of the law of the Spirit in this case was the attitude of compassion, leading to acts of mercy. In the mind of Jesus, the law of compassion trumps the law of Sabbath. Both laws come from the heart of a loving God, but it is love and compassion which is supreme.

The Pharisees had not yet come to understand that they were enslaved to the “law of sin and death.” They did not understand that there was a “law of the Spirit” that could set them free. One Pharisee, namely Paul, would come to understand that some years later, and would spend the rest of his life expounding the concept.

As I examine myself I find that I am often more like the Pharisees than like Jesus. There is something about black and white rules that I like, and perhaps that is the nature of humanity. We prefer the “law of sin and death” to the “law of the Spirit,” because it is easier to manage. When we think of something as vague and fluffy as compassion and mercy we get tied up in knots, and find ourselves starting to wonder who is worthy of mercy, who deserves it… and there it is again, our defaulting back to the law of sin and death. But we can’t help wondering to whom we should show mercy. Is the person who has smoked all his life worthy of an operation to cure his lung cancer? Is the person with hepatitis C worthy of a very expensive treatment to cure him when his disease is the result of iv drug abuse. Is the murderer or rapist or pedophile worthy of compassion and mercy?

For Jesus, the demonstration of mercy is nothing to do with the worthiness of the recipient. Compassion is simply an integral part of Jesus’s nature and character. He can’t help himself. It is simply who he is. Perhaps this is the crux of the matter, and it is the take home message from these stories in Luke’s gospel. If we are to be disciples, followers of Jesus, compassion and mercy need to become part of our very nature, part of who we are. Working out who is worthy of this treatment or that treatment will be far down on our list of priorities. 

The Pharisees saw Jesus healing on the Sabbath and saw a sin being committed, a sin that was worthy of punishment. Jesus’s actions imply that what he did was not a sin. In fact he implies that the attitude of the Pharisees was the greater sin in this situation. Here we are confronted with this idea of situational ethics: what is a sin In one context is not a sin in another context. But that is a philosophical and ethical minefield, creating all sorts of dilemmas. It is almost a frightening concept if it is carried to its logical conclusion. 

Such discussions must always come back to the two laws that Paul writes about, the law of sin and death, and the law of the Spirit who gives life. Working out what that means in each situation that we face is the ongoing challenge of our lives. I believe that our focus must always be to understand the law of the Spirit, which can only happen as we allow the Spirit of God to control our minds as well as our hearts. Compassion is not just a feeling, but a way of thinking. It is the way of Jesus, the way of God.

Honoring nobodies

Then his disciples began arguing about which of them was the greatest. But Jesus knew their thoughts, so he brought a little child to his side. Then he said to them, “Anyone who welcomes a little child like this on my behalf welcomes me, and anyone who welcomes me also welcomes my Father who sent me. Whoever is the least among you is the greatest.”

Luke 9:46-48

What were the disciples arguing about? Simply this, which of them was the greatest. Is this not the thing that we so often aspire to, to be “the greatest”? Do we not continually compare ourselves to others and constantly wish that people would look up to us, admire us, listen to us, applaud us? This can be in any number of areas of life, whether performance, achievement, wealth, possessions, talents, beauty, strength, influence. 

It’s interesting that the next sentence says “but Jesus knew their thoughts,” because what that tells us is that much of this desire for greatness, striving to be better than others, competitiveness, is in our thoughts as much as in our words or actions. Even if we know we will never be as good as another in some area, we still dream of, imagine, being the best. This arguing about who is best, who is greatest, is as much an internal mental argument with ourselves as it is anything else. 

It is essentially self centred, this argument. It is focussed on me, whether I am as good as, or better, than the people around me. But Jesus speaks directly into this self obsessed environment in which we live and function and directs our attention elsewhere – to a little child. Is he saying that children are intrinsically of more value than adults? I don’t think so. The reason he focusses on a child is because that child, in the particular situation that Jesus was in right then, was the one who would have been seen as “the least” of all the people who were present. Jesus says simply that the one who is least among us is the greatest. 

People sometimes strive to be “the least,” but it is really something that is impossible to achieve. Being the least is something that just happens, not something you can achieve. Striving to be the least, is a bit like striving to be the greatest – it is ultimately self centred. What Jesus calls us to is to forget ourselves and focus on others. Being great is not something we can achieve in God’s kingdom. It is something that is unwillingly thrust upon us. The strange thing is that even when we know we are the least in any situation or context, we don’t feel like the greatest, regardless of what Jesus has said. When we are the least we tend to be acutely aware that we are the least. Jesus might say that we are the greatest, but we certainly don’t feel that way.

And isn’t it the feeling that we really are striving after, the feeling of being the greatest, the number one, the most acclaimed, the most recognised, the most applauded. The very experience of being the least means that we are none of these things, we are barely noticed, if anything we are pitied.

Yet it is these ones who are pitied that are the greatest in God’s upside down kingdom. It is exactly opposite to the way we naturally think. It is not natural, it goes against our human nature. Yet this attitude, of valuing the weakest, the smallest, the least, in our society, of seeing the outcast and the nobody as being of equal value to ourselves, in fact of treating them better than we treat ourselves, that is an attitude which has transformed society over the two thousand years since Jesus spoke these words. It is the attitude that tells us that abortion and euthanasia are wrong. It is the attitude that tells us that we should care for the sick and the elderly and disabled and insane, and not just eradicate them, which would be economically much more advantageous.

There have been, of course, over the centuries, people who have said that this idea of Jesus is ridiculous. There have been those who have said that might is right, that it is power that makes us the greatest. There still are people like that. I see that I am often like that myself. When the weak get in the way, I am apt to walk over them. When they make demands on my time or my money, I would rather ignore them. Why should I give my resources to care for the least deserving? When the weak are inconvenient, there is a strong temptation to turn my back and walk away. Some regimes, and some individuals, down through the ages have just left them to die, or even worse, actively gone out to get rid of them.

But that is not the attitude or the action of the follower of Jesus. We see things in a different way. We do not strive to be the best. We do not strive for anything for ourselves. Rather we have our eyes focussed outwards, on those who in the eyes of the world are the least, and we value them in the way the “greatest” should be valued. With respect, and care and honour. 

If only we could adopt this attitude that Jesus challenged us to. How much better a world we would live in.

Hidden

A woman in the crowd had suffered for twelve years with constant bleeding, having spent everything she had on doctors, and she could find no cure. Coming up behind Jesus, she touched the fringe of his robe. Immediately, the bleeding stopped.
“Who touched me?” Jesus asked.
Everyone denied it, and Peter said, “Master, this whole crowd is pressing up against you.”
But Jesus said, “Someone deliberately touched me, for I felt healing power go out from me.”
When the woman realized that she could not stay hidden, she began to tremble and fell to her knees in front of him. The whole crowd heard her explain why she had touched him and that she had been immediately healed. “Daughter,” he said to her, “your faith has made you well. Go in peace.” Luke 8:42-47 NLT

Hidden. That one word describes this woman’s problem, and in a sense describes her. She had a problem that she hid from the world, and so in a sense, she was hiding her true self. Vaginal bleeding was not a subject that people talked about openly in that culture and age. Furthermore, when a woman was bleeding she was regarded as ceremonially unclean, and so therefore could not engage in the normal religious activities that were an integral part of the society and culture. If she was bleeding continuously, she could never engage in such activities. Twelve years is a long time to be on the outside of the normal social life of the community. It is a long time to be regarded as unclean. It is a long time to be avoided by others, for according to the rules of Leviticus, any person who touched her would also be regarded as unclean (Leviticus 15).

So this woman was an outsider. She was likely unmarried, since a man would not want a woman who he could not touch. If she had been married then she may have been abandoned. I like to think she had a husband who loved her and who stood by her side regardless of her awful affliction. But I know that may be wishful thinking. The likelihood is, therefore, that this woman was lonely, poor, and depressed. Not to mention very tired. She must have felt that God had abandoned her.

But she had heard about Jesus, the healer. Perhaps she had seen what he was doing with her own eyes. Perhaps someone had told her about the miracles he was performing. And for some reason faith grew within her. It is hard to imagine why. After all, she had spent everything she had on doctors, and they had not helped her. She could be forgiven for thinking she was a hopeless case. But something about Jesus sparked hope in her, and her hope grew to faith.

There was one problem. Jesus was a rabbi, a holy man. Some were saying that he was the Son of God, but she hardly knew what that meant. Whatever, she knew the rules: her affliction made her ceremonially unclean. How could she expect a rabbi to touch her? If she walked up to him and begged him for healing, as she had seen other people do, he might ask her what the problem was. There was always a crowd around him. She would be forced to reveal her uncleanness to everyone and she wasn’t sure she could cope with the embarrassment. And she was not quite sure how Jesus would respond.

She was worried for him too. She didn’t want his reputation to be tarnished. She feared what people would think and say about Jesus if he did indeed touch her, and heal her. Would they shun him for touching her, when they realized his compassion had made him ceremonially unclean? Would they be angry at her for spoiling it for everyone else?

But she longed for his touch. She had not been touched by anyone for years. She believed his touch might heal her, might free her from her prison of loneliness. She suspected that the power that was in him could heal her, even if he was not conscious of it. So she came up with a plan. “Coming up behind Jesus, she touched the fringe of his robe. Immediately, the bleeding stopped.”

Of course her plan misfired somewhat. Jesus knew, immediately, that the touch he had experienced from this woman was intentional, not accidental. He stopped and turned and sough her out. Suddenly all the attention was on her, and her problem, much to her distress. Jesus could have said nothing. He could have kept that knowledge to himself, knowing that confronting her would bring embarrassment. But he didn’t. He called her out. Why?

Jesus knew the rules too. He had read Leviticus, had it taught to him from childhood. He wanted people to know that sometimes rules had to take second place to mercy, that there was no medical problem that would prevent him reaching out and touching a person who was suffering. He wanted people to know that sickness would never be a barrier between people and God. He wanted people to know that even things that had always been thought to make a person unclean were not a barrier to them receiving his healing touch. Jesus was not afraid of menstrual blood, any more than he was afraid of leprosy or any of the multitude of other illnesses that could make a person unclean. His touch neutralised the power of such things to separate a person from God.

I think Jesus was making another important point too, that women, in a society that regarded them as second class citizens, were equal to men, regardless of gynaecological realities. He loved them and valued them as much, not less, not more. He did not differentiate between them in the way that society did. He made a point of affirming this woman’s faith, in contrast to the somewhat disparaging remarks he had made about his own (male) disciples’ lack of faith just a short time before (during the storm on the lake). Jesus was setting an example, showing us the divine order of things, an order that humanity has so often forgotten, both then and now.

The faith of women is a strong theme in this chapter of Luke’s book. Though Jesus had chosen his “apostles” from among men, Luke is careful to point out that Jesus had female followers too. These were women from the extremes of life: from a young Mary Magdalene, previously demon possessed but liberated by Jesus, to a scorned prostitute whose life was transformed by Jesus’ acceptance and forgiveness, to a group of wealthy older women from the higher social classes who gave generously of their time and money. Then there was this woman, ostracised for years because of her chronic gynaecological problems, and a twelve year old girl, dearly loved but deathly sick, restored to life even as death had its claws in her.

The men in the chapter, apart perhaps from Jairus, do not come up as beacons of faith. The disciples, caught in a storm on the lake, were characterized by fear, not faith. The Pharisees, in their self righteousness smugness, were shamed by a sinful woman’s devotion.

The woman of this story could not stay hidden, and she could not hide her problem. In a sense she is no different to all of us. We go to great lengths to hide our problems, our sins, from the world, afraid that we will be ostracised or judged by our communities. None of us want our sins, our failures, our dirty little secrets, to be made public for the world to see. We are expert at hiding our bad side and only presenting the scrubbed up, squeaky clean version of us to the world.

But when we come to Jesus we cannot stay hidden. We are forced to confess our failures, our sins, as much to ourselves as to Jesus. We are set free, released, healed, and we can go on our way rejoicing. But acknowledging what we really are, who we really are, is important if we are to grow and develop into the people he wants us to be.