Never Sleeps

While a pastor on the Fort Berthold Reservation I was honored with the Indian name, "NeverSleeps". It was primarily because I was often responding to particular needs in the middle of the night.

Even more relevant, the Lord Himself, Maker of all, "Never Sleeps".

Surely you know.
Surely you have heard.
The Lord is the God who lives forever,
who created all the world.
He does not become tired or need to rest.
No one can understand how great his wisdom is.

Isaiah 40:28

Welcome to every reader. I am a simple follower of Jesus. He is perfect, I often fall short.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Fierce Compassion


Fierce Compassion

“When Jesus got out of the boat, he saw a large crowd of people. He felt sorry for them, and he healed the ones who were sick.” Matthew 14:14

What crosses your mind when you see a large crowd? The “large crowd” of vehicles during rush hour has been known to cause road rage. The large crowds at the mall might cause someone else a bit of social anxiety. And, large crowds like the Occupy movement might elicit a whole range of emotions depending on our political leanings.



When news was brought to Jesus of John the Baptist’s death He went to a solitary place to be alone. We can imagine the grief He must have felt. The pangs of loss pierced him deeply. I am sure that John’s death also reminded Jesus that He was on the same course, finally ending His three year ministry in painful execution by crucifixion. Jesus was grief-stricken and sought out the quiet place for rest and intimate time with His Father.

Unfortunately, his quiet time would be cut short. Jesus had taken a boat across the lake. Hearing about it, the townspeople hurried out to find Him, following Him by land. Jesus, emotionally drained and physically exhausted is now face to face with a crowd He had hoped to escape, if just for a brief time of solitude.

We all know how it feels to be interrupted. Coming to the end of a busy week, we finish a long list of tasks either at home or at work, wash the last dish or send the final email to a client and now are ready for some peace and quiet. Just an hour or so into our well-deserved weekend we get a phone call. Any other day we would answer with our usual polite self, but interrupted in the middle of well-needed silence, we find ways to cut the phone call short.

Yet Jesus, upon seeing the crowd, the clamoring voices that echoed off the hillsides, responded differently. He “felt sorry” for them.

Sometimes “feeling sorry” implies a bit of mild contempt because the object of our pity is regarded as weak or inferior. Not so with Jesus; He merely saw them as people needing to be healed. There was no brusque dismissal of those who interrupted His spiritual work. Compassion was His work; healing was His call and vocation. And it still is.

We need never question the Son of God’s desire to heal any of us. He sees each of us the same way He saw this crowd, with the deepest compassion possible. His march to Jerusalem and His own crucifixion were motivated out of love for every person in that crowd, and every person in every crowd since!

This is love that calls us from our hiding and into the light. This is compassion that compels us to bring our sin and our suffering before the One who not only “has” the remedy for our ills, but “is” that remedy Himself. Don’t be surprised if Jesus’ is kinder than you know, more gentle than you have imagined, and loves you more fiercely than any earthly relationship possible.

Once touched by the healing of Jesus, no one is ever the same again. And, no one ever sees another crowd the same again either. For those who were once part of the crowd that was dying to be loved, and have been loved by love’s own Author, there are no more frightening crowds. There are only people.

We do not love deeply enough ourselves because we have not experienced His love deeply enough. Our sickness is deep; our sin has left its mark like a black cancer sending its roots deep into our psyche. No “pat you on the head” love will do. No “send you on your way” with a paper valentine is nearly enough. We need the radical, untamed and undying love of Christ who will not quit until every vestige of our disease is gone.

And, having experienced such love, we are transformed. We throw away our idols; they were mere relics of our illness. Instead, we now become a force for love in this world. We now, as part of a global and divine conspiracy, see every person in the crowd with love. We once were judges, we once “had pity” on those we thought sicker than ourselves. Now we no longer make that mistake, but offer the world the same cure we ourselves must partake of day by day; the compassion of Jesus Christ Himself.

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