TEXT: Hebrews 4:15

SUBJECT: Attributes of Christ #5: Compassion

For the last few months at the Lord’s Table, we’ve been meditating on the human attributes of Jesus Christ. I say "human" attributes because even though the Lord is God, that’s not all He is: He is also a man—a man every bit as human as you and I.

The study of His human qualities is important—oddly enough—because they help us see His Divine glory. It’s hard to get your mind around traits like infinity, eternity, and unchangeableness. They are foreign to our experience; we only know them by contrast. But show us a God who is also a man and we start getting a feel for Him. It’s like meeting a distant relative for the first time. Though you’ve never seen him before, there’s something vaguely familiar about him. Around the eyes, he looks like your father; his laugh reminds you of your grandma; something like that.

God became a Man to show Himself to us in a way words, miracles, and visions could never do. Though John knew the Bible from his childhood, he would say

This is what I’m trying to do with the mediations around the Lord’s Table—to help you see the glory of God in the human face of Jesus Christ!

Thus far, we’ve looked at His wisdom and bravery, His patience and His humility. Now we’ll move on to the trait suggested by our verse: compassion.

I don’t know Greek well enough to make an authoritative decision, but there’s something in the King James Bible that moves me in a way the newer versions don’t.

The newer Bibles say our Lord sympathizes with us—and that’s true of course. But that word, it seems to me, is somewhat clinical and remote. The Old Book says He is "touched with the feeling of our infirmities". Touched—as though what hurts me hurts Him too—and just as badly!

That’s what compassion is. It is not striking a pose or saying kind words without meaning them. It is entering into the sorrows of other people.

That is what Jesus Christ did--and still does.

The object of His compassion is people who are suffering. Their problems may be fairly small—like missing a meal or two—or as big as they get—like leprosy, demon-possession, and the death of a dear brother. If these things hurt others, they hurt the Lord as well, for He is a man of compassion.

Some suffering almost drags sympathy out of you. It’s hard to look at starving children and not feel for them. Crack Babies break your heart—crying for drugs in the incubator. We’ve all seen refugees driven from their homes by a war they had nothing to do with. Compassion for these people is somewhat easy. And the Lord had it.

Think of the man born blind. It wasn’t anyone’s fault and the Lord felt for him. Remember of the multitudes who had little or no access to the Bible and had to learn their piety from the Sadducees, the Pharisees, and other heretics and butchers posing as shepherds. Of course the Lord was moved for them.

But what’s not so easy is feeling for people who caused their own problems. And who did it, after being warned and shown a better way!

The Lord was moved for these people too. Recall the Parable of the Prodigal Son. The young man was ungrateful, disobedient, and stubborn. His father must have warned him over and over about where his selfish ways must lead. And did lead! Yet, when the dirty, ragged, and hungry boy came home looking for a job, he found a father whose heart yearned for him. That is the Lord’s heart for His runaways. Like me and you.

The Lord’s compassion is a real thing and not a phony look of concern. Today, compassion is meant to make you look good. Can you imagine a politician saying he didn’t really care about you? Our president coined the term Compassionate Conservatism; the president before him said, "I feel your pain". I don’t want to be cynical or judge their motives, but I wonder about compassion used as a campaign device. The Lord’s compassion was real. At the tomb of Lazarus, the Lord cried with such feeling that the people who saw Him said, "Behold, how He loved him".

The Lord’s compassion is a practical thing and does not end with His tears. To cry is good, but to help is better. I know a couple of young women whose father died after a long, painful, and discouraging fight with cancer. One of the girls went all to pieces. She cried day and night and nothing more. Her sister kept her composure and nursed her dad until the day he died. Both loved their father—there’s no doubt of that. But one was more compassionate than the other. For compassion does not stop with feeling bad for suffering people; it goes on to help them.

The Lord’s help was often miraculous. We cannot feed 5,000 with a boy’s lunch; we can’t raise the dead or heal a man of leprosy. But we can do something for people in need. Maybe not much, but something. If we had more compassion, we would do more.

The Lord’s compassion is a permanent thing! That’s the real point of our text! The Lord’s status has changed. He is not longer in a state of humiliation—hungering, thirsting, dying. He is now exalted to God’s Right Hand and beyond all suffering.

But He hasn’t forgotten what it is to be a man on earth! His character is the same as ever.

Your Savior sympathizes with you—as much as He did with Mary and Martha. Your problems are still His problems. This is true whether you feel anything or not. We now live by faith and not by sight. Jesus Christ cares for you—whether He seems to or not.

It also means we ought to be compassionate. Some of you are that way naturally—you’ve always been sympathetic. If you have, you ought to thank God for that!

For it does not come easily to everyone. Some of us have to struggle to enter in to the sorrows of other people. Whether we’re just plain selfish or hard-hearted or proud, maybe, I’m not sure. But I am sure that a tender hearted Lord wants tender hearted disciples.

Pray for a tender heart. But don’t leave it there, go on to act compassionately even if you don’t feel anything. For, in the end, your character is not formed by what you feel, but what you do.