curiously compassionate

1 As he passed by, he saw a man blind from birth. 2 And his disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” 3 Jesus answered, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him. 4 We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming, when no one can work. 5 As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” 6 Having said these things, he spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva. Then he anointed the man's eyes with the mud 7 and said to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (which means Sent). So he went and washed and came back seeing. John 9:1-7

The disciples who first followed Jesus were dreadfully out of step with their Master's heart when they asked who sinned—the man's parents or he in his mother's womb—that he should be born blind. No doubt they had seen this beggar many times before and may have reacted with the same kind of standoffish, theological curiosity. What they saw in Jesus' response was hardly standoffish, and it clearly demonstrated the distance between the Lord and his followers about responding to people's needs. His was a response of compassion, not curiosity and judgment. He marshaled his resources to grant sight to the beggar and claimed that the blindness was actually intended to provide a moment when God could be magnified through Jesus' compassionate touch.

We are so prone to be like those detached disciples. When we hear of trouble in someone's life, we are far more interested in the details and an analysis of what, why, when, and where than we are in finding out what we can do to reach out and help.

It's amazing what a listening ear, a season of prayer, a note, a hug (with no lecture about the sovereignty of God), a meal, or some free babysitting can mean to those who are suffering. I've had the pleasure of pastoring churches that were full of followers who went beyond curiosity to Christlike compassion. What I learned was that unsaved relatives and friends were consistently touched by watching the uniqueness of a caring community. No doubt they wondered who would rally to their support if similar fates were to befall them.

If we would only learn to see tragedy as a platform for the kind of compassion that reflects the power of God's glory through us, we could have a far greater impact on our world. Anyone can be curious. Followers of Jesus are curiously compassionate. —Joe Stowell www.rbc.org

seeking: Jesus, what have you just stirred in my heart about real compassion for others? How has your compassion blessed me today?

responding: What experiences have I had with receiving compassion? • Who needs to receive my compassion today? What will I do to show it to them?

Jesus, may your love, mercy, and compassion flow through me to a needy world. Thank you for allowing me to be used by you to lift others up. May you be glorified in all I do.

following: Living like Jesus requires real compassion.

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