I just returned from a weekend trip to northern Minnesota to spend time with family. It was sweet to be with my sister and her husband, my brother, my auntie and other family friends. The reason for our gathering was to lay to rest the ashes of my brother’s dear wife who passed away in April 2022 after a courageous battle against cancer. She suffered for nearly a year through the chemotherapy and the aggressive cancer, never hearing a shred of good news from the doctors or even a hint of remission.
My brother stood by her side through it all, bravely helping her everyday and in every way. At times he carried her because she couldn’t walk. He provided for her every need and protected her from as much trouble as he humanly could. Because of his great love for his wife, he suffered terribly. That’s exactly what “compassion” is — suffering alongside someone you love.
Our Lord Jesus is compassion. He is the author and perfecter of compassion. We could never have compassion for another human being unless He was firstly compassionate to us. The love of Christ started at the beginning of creation, reached a terrible and unfathomable crescendo at the Cross and continues to this day. His resurrection from the dead gives us the hope and joy as we believe in His great love. We will also rise and someday soon join Him in heaven. In fact, He promised to return for us to bring us to the Father’s house. In Paul’s letter to Titus, he reminds us that “we should live soberly, righteously, and godly in the present age, looking for the blessed hope and glorious appearing of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ who gave Himself for us…”
He gave Himself for us. He saw our sorry state, our sin-packed lives and knew that we couldn’t rescue ourselves. His compassion extends from heaven to the lowest basement of our souls where we might be hiding from our abuser. His great compassion lifts us out of the fear and muck and mire of abuse. He doesn’t just look at our mess and look away embarrassed like many of our family and friends. He reaches out his nail-scarred hand and says, “I will help you. I am here for you. I have felt that pain too, but I know the way out. I AM the way out.”
As we cried our way through the final parts of the cemetery service for Linda, we remembered that Jesus is the Resurrection and the Life and that all who have trusted in His compassion on the cross will be saved forever and ever. “Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.” (Lamentation 3:22-23) The Lord Jesus sees and feels our pain. Whether we are standing around a grave or running from an abuser, He is with us. His compassion really matters today.