Reflection on the readings for the 14th June, the 2nd Sunday after Trinity
- Jun 18
- 5 min read
Readings: Exodus 19:2-8a; Matthew 9:35-10:8
Today’s reflection is by Reader, Pete Gillions.
“When Jesus saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.”
Two thousand years ago when life for many people was brutal and short, when oppression and poverty were a part of everyday life, Jesus looked at the crowds who followed him, and the passage says that “he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” If a person from that crowd around Jesus was transported through time to this moment, what they would see would be almost unrecognisable to them. The quality of our lives in terms of what is available to us, food from around the word, medical advances, transport, home comforts etc, would be beyond their wildest imagination. In that sense we now live in a very different world, but in another sense, nothing has changed at all. People still remain “harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd”.
Scott Peck in his book “The Road Less Travelled” wrote this:
Life is difficult. This is a great truth, one of the greatest truths. …
Most do not fully see this truth that life is difficult. Instead, they moan more or less incessantly, noisily or subtly, about the enormity of their problems, their burdens, and their difficulties as if life were generally easy, as if life should be easy. They voice their belief that their difficulties represent a unique kind of affliction that should not be and that has somehow been especially visited upon them, or else upon their families, their tribe, their class, their nation, their race or even their species, and not upon others.
Scott Peck concludes
“I know about this moaning because I have done my share.” And so have I and, I guess, so have all of us.
Despite all the advances over the years we all can still find life to be very difficult ,perhaps even overwhelming at times. An old prayer reflects this sense of our own smallness and fragility:
“Thy sea, O God, so great - My boat so small.”
But it does not finish there, it goes on to speak of God’s grace towards us:
“Thy sea, O God, so great - My boat so small. Thy goodness opens paths for me - Through the consuming vastness of the sea.”
At the very heart of our shared faith is the notion that we are not alone, that life is an accompanied journey. We have those with whom we share life, and we have a God who is always with us. We are not alone.
“When Jesus saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” Here the word that speaks to us of the kind of God we believe in, the nature of God we see embodied in Christ, is the word compassion. It is a powerful word.
In the story of Israel, it is the same word that is used to describe a mother’s tender feeling towards her baby. Sometimes it’s even translated as “deeply moved,” like in the story of King Solomon who meets two women who have just given birth. One of their babies sadly dies, but then both women claim that the baby still living is theirs. So as a test, Solomon says to cut the baby in two and give each mother a half. And the baby’s real mother is deeply moved. She would rather the other woman take her baby than see her child die. And it’s her compassion that reveals that she’s the true mother.
But it isn’t just an emotional word. It also involves action. For example, when the Israelites are suffering and oppressed in Egypt, God “hears their cries,” and he’s compelled by his compassion, to rescue them. The people are led from slavery to the promised land.
Then later on, in a dark moment in Israel’s history, where the people have yet again have turned away from God, the prophet Isaiah speaks to the nation. Isaiah again compares God to a mother full of compassion toward her baby. He says, “can a mother forget her nursing child, or have no compassion on the child of her womb? Even if she forgets, I will not forget you.” God is shown to be full of motherly compassion, and that He will rescue his people. And as you read on further in Isaiah, you realise that God is going to do this in a truly wonderful way. He is going to do it by entering into the suffering of humanity.
That is the ultimate expression of the compassion of God: that Jesus enters into humanity’s suffering. And so it is no surprise to see that same quality of compassion expressed time and again and again in the ministry of Jesus. Time and again we see that Jesus is not only deeply moved by human suffering but importantly moved into action. It is His compassion that moves Jesus, perhaps almost compels Him, to reach out to those in needs - in Jesus healing the sick, challenging those misusing power, and reaching out to those on the margins of society.
Later, as the dark clouds gather and Jesus is on his final journey to Jerusalem, He is once again deeply moved. Jesus uses the example of a mother hen, a hen who uses her wings to shield her chicks from danger. He compares himself to that mother hen, wanting to protect the people he sees in front of him and draws them into his loving embrace. Yet they prefer to walk another way.
It is as Jesus takes the path to the cross, to suffering and even to death itself that we see the compassion of God most powerfully expressed. It is this ultimate expression of the compassion of God that rescues and bring us home to God.
To return to the passage. “When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.”
So, what we see is that Jesus calls his followers to imitate this same life of compassion, allowing ourselves to be moved by the pain of others, to embrace the hurting, and to participate in relieving suffering in the world. In this way, we too can embody the compassion of God. Jesus calls us to “be compassionate, just as your Father is compassionate.” The Shed and the Food Pantry are a couple examples of the ways we, as a Church, express compassion to our local community.
Yes, whilst it is true that “Thy sea, O God, so great - My boat so small.”, we often are only too aware of our own our smallness and fragility.
But we also to have the reassurance that “Thy goodness opens paths for me - Through the consuming vastness of the sea.” This morning that path is opened to us as we come to a God of compassion in communion, as we share the bread and the wine.
We come recognising that we are not alone in our boat.
Through Christ, we are one body, companions on the journey.
Amen
So let us pray:
“Thy sea, O God, so great –
My boat so small.”
But Thy goodness opens paths for me –
Through the consuming vastness of the sea.”