Acquire the Spirit of Compassion & Co-Suffering Love
Sermon preached by Dn. James Wilcox on Sunday, August 18, 2024
1 Cor 1:10-7; Matt. 14:14-22
The reading we just heard should be familiar to most of us, as it recounts one of the “feeding of the five thousand” stories found in our Gospel texts. And I’m guessing that these “feeding” accounts, as I’m calling them here, are somewhat familiar to most of us. And in the event that they are, here are a few extra tidbits about these “feeding” accounts you might be less familiar with: First, the feeding of the 5000 is the only miracle, apart from the resurrection, that is recorded in all 4 of our Gospels. And if we count the slightly smaller version of this same story — “the feeding of the 4000,” found one chapter later in Matthew, and also in Mark — we wind up with a total of 6 versions of this story in our Gospel texts. Second, Matthew, Mark, and Luke present their version of this story immediately following the death of John the Baptist. And third, almost all 6 accounts show Jesus withdrawing to a solitary place both prior to, and following this miracle. And this last point is an aspect of the story I think we commonly overlook, because we are so focused on the nature of the miracle itself.
It is a fact, however, that Jesus frequently withdrew to solitary places in order to be alone — usually to pray, and usually to be in the presence of the Father. His solitude and His need for stillness is an ongoing theme in throughout the New Testament. Solitude and silence is how His public ministry first began (40 Days in the wilderness), it’s how he dealt with His own personal emotions during some of the most turbulent moments of His ministry (Garden of Gethsemane). And act of retreating to a quiet solitary location in order to pray is a teaching Jesus passed along to his many followers (Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5). More importantly, however, these moments of silence and contemplation are a source of Christ’s compassion.
When we come to the opening of today’s Gospel passage we read, that “Jesus saw a great crowd; and he had compassion on them!” The verse just prior to this one — which was not part of today’s reading — tells us that Jesus, having heard about the death of John the Baptist, withdrew in a boat to a deserted place all by himself. It is only when he arrives that He learns a very large crowd has followed him off to His place of solitude.
The next verse — which, again, is the one that opens today’s Gospel lesson — tells us that Christ had compassion on the crowd. And some versions our Scriptures have this translated as “He was moved inwardly with compassion for them.” (1) And I love this translation because it asks us to consider… What does it mean to genuinely feel “inward compassion” for our fellow human beings?
In the ancient world when we consider human emotions, it was thought that the lower regions of the body, the gut, or the bowels, per se, were host to certain of the stronger emotions such as anger, love, or mercy. And the Greek word translated here carries this deep sense of Christ’s inward emotion. Scientifically speaking, today, we know that our bowels are not the physical seat of our emotions, but we certainly cannot deny when we feel something strongly our body. We might even say “I feel sick to my stomach” or “Man, I can just feel it in my gut.” Imagine feeling that same sense in your body, but instead of sickness or anger, picture compassion welling up deep within you. This helps gives us an understanding of Christ’s deep-seated compassion for people gathered about Him in today’s Gospel.
On the very nature of compassion itself, St Gregory the Theologian writes that “nothing else pleases God so much” as “love for the poor and, in general, compassion and kindness to fellow humans.” “…and nothing else is as beloved to Him as compassion.” (2)
St Isaac of Syria writes that a person who exhibits compassion expresses a “…manifestation of the image of divine compassion.” Conversely, he also states that “a lack of compassion, and cruelty” is the result of a “great profusion of the passions. Because the heart has been hardened by the passions, they do not allow a person to be stirred by pity, and such a person does not know how to feel pity for someone else. He feels no pain over someone afflicted, nor will he suffer when he sees his companion shattered.” (3)
I am struck by this juxtaposition of compassion and the lack thereof, because there is so much in our cultural, political, and religious climate today that not only lacks compassion, but in some cases becomes the very source of another person’s suffering. I’ve witnessed Orthodox Christians using social media platforms to malign, insult, and sadly even cause other Orthodox Christians to feel threatened for simply sharing an opinion, or for using their own voice to stand up for the marginalized. Social media makes this kind of thing exceptionally easy. And I will say that if your own presence on social media is causing you to make others suffer, check your heart and delete your account!
I’d like to state this plainly: As Christians, we are NEVER to be the voluntary source of another person’s suffering. We always strive to suffer WITH the other person. We do not stand against anyone or cause them intentional harm. As St Paul teaches us: “pursue hospitality — rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep, bless those who persecute, bless and do not curse.” (4)
Or perhaps put differently: Each of us must learn to co-suffer with our fellow human beings. What does it mean to co-suffer, you might ask? Orthodox Professor of Theology Andrew Sopko puts it like this:
“…co-suffering love emanates from nothing less than the redemption of humanity through the selfless love of God manifested in Jesus Christ. It is this co-suffering love that not only has been poured out for us, but that is set before each of us as the goal of our own perfection, a perfection that will manifest our own deification (theosis)… co-suffering love implies a relationship not only with God, but with [our] fellow humans and even with the world beyond…” (5)
When I think of this definition of co-suffering, I am reminded, first of the fact that God is love — genuine, uncreated energy in the form of divine LOVE — and that Jesus Christ was motivated to action by the deepness of this love. Christ’s co-suffering love for all of humanity is a reflection of this divine love. And this is why we see Him hold such great compassion for the 5000 people gathered about Him in today’s Gospel story.
Second, I am also reminded that each of us wrestles with our own inner sufferings. As baptized, confessing followers of Jesus Christ, remember that each of us is called to co-suffer with one another. And this means that we are to work on ourselves with God’s help, that we may also feel the inward tug of compassion, deep down into our bowels as it were, that we might also bring Christ’s healing to a broken world.
Most importantly, however, remember to make peace within your heart!
St Seraphim of Sarov once famously stated: “Acquire the Spirit of Peace and a thousand souls around you will be saved.”
If Christ’s inward compassion generated the miracle of feeding 5000 bodies, how much greater will our inner peace and compassion contribute in the miracle of saving 1000s of souls!
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1) See Matthew 14:14 - David Bentley Hart, trans., The New Testament: A Translation. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2017).
2) Orthodox Fathers, “The Love of Poverty,” accessed Aug. 17, 2024, https://www.agape-biblia.org/orthodoxy/Seek_the_Welfare_of_the_City/Love%20of%20Poverty%20-%20St%20Gregory%20the%20Theologian.pdf .
3) Sebastian Brock, trans., Headings on Spiritual Knowledge (The Second Part, Chapters 1-3): St Isaac of Nineveh. (Yonkers, New York: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2022), 109
4) Romans 12:15 & 14
5) Andrew J. Sopko “For a Culture of Co-Suffering Love: The Theo-Anthropology of Archbishop Lazar Puhalo” accessed Aug. 17, 2024, https://www.orthodoxcanada.org/freebook/CulCoSuf.pdf .