30th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle
A
Exodus 22: 20-26; 1 Thessalonians 1:
5c-10;
Matthew 22: 34-40
In
today's first reading from Exodus, we hear these words from God: “If
he cries out to me, I will hear him, for I am compassionate.”
(Exodus 22:26)
I
want to believe these words, but when I watch the news, I wonder how
this can be true. Every day we are bombarded with images of
terrorism, war, crime, prejudice, disease and suffering. Much of it
is our fault, but a lot of it is completely beyond our control. If
God is compassionate, why is there so much suffering in the world?
We
believe that God is all-knowing and all-powerful. God could end all
of this pain and suffering with one thought. So why do we suffer?
How can a compassionate God allow this to continue?
Perhaps
it would help if we understood what the word “compassion” means.
It's
root comes from two Latin words: cum – which
means “with” and passio – which
means “to suffer.” In other words, to feel compassion for
someone means that you suffer with them.
Compassion
does not
mean
that God solves our problems, shows us the way out of confusion, or
offers answers to our many questions.
A compassionate God feels our hurt and lives it with us. God
willingly chooses to enter with us into our problems, confusions and
questions.
How
do we know that God is compassionate? Jesus came into the world as
we did, born to human parents, helpless but loved. Jesus was fully
God and
completely human. As God, he could have ended disease and suffering
easily. Instead, he chose to love us and to suffer with us to the
point of death – death on a cross.
Jesus demonstrated compassion in very simple ways.
These acts of compassion are usually overlooked in light of his many
works and miracles. But by simply speaking with or sharing a meal
with people on the margins of society – the sick, the poor, the
sinners, and in those days, the woman – Jesus showed us how to love
and feel compassion for all of those we encounter.
I have often struggled with this notion of compassion.
I consider myself a “fixer” or a “problem-solver.” I see a
dilemma and I look for a solution. I don't like suffering and I
don't want to see others suffering either. That's the reason that
feel so uncomfortable at hospitals and funeral homes. I cannot fix
the problems there. There are no words to alleviate the pain and
suffering that you find in those places. And so I avoid them
whenever possible.
So am I able to feel compassion?
Feeling compassion for a close friend or a family member
comes easy enough. Why? Because I love them. Their joy is my joy,
their pain is my pain. It's not so tough in those circumstances.
But Jesus wants more from us. “You shall love the
Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with
all your mind. You shall love your neighbor as yourself. (Matthew
22: 37, 39)
Jesus wants us to expand our neighborhood. We are
called take these feelings of love and compassion that we feel for
those most intimate to us, and extend them to the vastness of
humanity.
That's a pretty tall order. Is it possible? In our
lifetime we've seen several examples – Mother Teresa and Pope
Francis spring to mind immediately – but there are many others –
so yes – it is possible.
Can I do it too? I want to try – but where do I
start?
It begins by treating everyone I encounter with patience
and respect. It begins with being present to the person in front of
me. It begins by setting aside prejudices and judgements and dealing
with that person on a one-to-one basis.
I can do that. It will take some effort, but I can do
that.
There are other ways as well. I can set aside my
feelings of inadequacy and visit people in the hospital or a nursing
home. I can write to someone in prison, or perhaps a soldier
overseas.
Can I extend myself beyond that? Can I demonstrate love
and compassion to people I do not know? Yes. I can join CLOUT
(Citizens of Louisville Organized and United Together) and work to remove obstacles that cause hardship and suffering in our
neighborhoods. I can buy a blanket and donate it to the homeless. I
can bring a toy for the Whitley City toy collection, Through these
programs, and others, I can feel empathy and ultimately, love and
compassion towards others.
It will not be easy for me. These ideas of love and
compassion are not something I've practiced regularly, so I'm still
learning. Perhaps you find yourself in a similar predicament. If
so, come and talk to me. Maybe we can do it together.
Deacon Darryl J. Diemer
30th Sunday in Ordinary Time
October 26, 2014
Painting: Remnrandt, The Return of the Prodigal Son, 1668-69, detail.
