TEXT: "_But when he saw the multitudes, he was moved with
compassion._"--Matt. 9:36.
The keynote of the earthly ministry of Jesus Christ was "compassion."
You have but to follow him in his journeys by day and by night to find
the proof of this statement. Whether he ministers to the sick of the
palsy, turns aside to help the father whose child is dead, heals the
woman with the issue of blood, drives away the leprosy from the man
dead by law, stops to open the eyes of the blind man by the wayside,
helps the beggar or wins the member of the Sanhedrim, he is always the
same.
If you journey with him in the morning on the shores of the Sea of
Galilee, or at noon rest with him as he sits on the well curb of
Jacob's well; it you stop with him in the evening as he bares his side
and thrusts forth his hand to the doubting Thomas, or behold him as he
is roused from his sleep in the boat to quiet the storm; if you study
him on the mountain side at midnight or behold him in the garden of
Gethsemane when no one beholds his agony but the eye of his Father--you
will learn that he was always compassionate. You cannot discover him
under any circumstances when this statement is not true of him.
This ninth chapter of Matthew is indeed remarkable. It can be
appreciated only when we read the closing part of the eighth chapter,
for it is here that the people, angry because of the destruction of the
swine, besought him to leave their country; and it is here we see him
taking his departure. Men have since that time driven him from their
hearts and their homes for reasons quite as trifling. It is a sad
thing to know that any one can drive him away if he chooses to do so.
The chapter is remarkable, however, because here we not only read the
story of the calling of Matthew from his position of influence, but
find more specific cases of healing than in most other chapters of the
New Testament. There is the healing of the sick of the palsy in the
second verse, the significant part of which is he was healed when Jesus
saw _their_ faith; the picture of the father whose child was dead and
then raised by him, in the eighteenth verse and the twenty-fifth verse;
the account of the woman with the issue of blood, in the twentieth
verse, and the picture of discouragement when all earthly physicians
had failed changed into great joy when the virtue of the great
physician healed her: the account of the dumb man, in the thirty-second
verse, who was possessed of a devil as well; and then in the
thirty-fifth verse a general statement concerning him to the effect
that he healed all manner of diseases.
The chapter is also remarkable because these cases presented to Jesus
were of the very worst sort. The man with the palsy could not come
himself, however much he wanted to do so, and four men were required to
bring him; the child was dead and so beyond all human help; the two
blind men were undoubtedly beggars and outcasts; the dumb man was
possessed of a devil in addition to his dumbness; the group of people
who were subjects of his healing power had every manner of disease, but
while the people were different and the cases were desperate, Jesus was
always the same.
There were six specific illustrations of healing: three of these came
to Jesus for themselves, the two blind men and the woman; two others
were brought to him, the man sick with the palsy and the man who was
dumb; and for the other case the father came and took Jesus to the
child. In all the general cases Jesus went himself to the suffering.
When all these subjects have been presented then comes the text, which
is its own outline. There is first the picture of the multitudes, a
great number of people. Then the statement that they had fainted;
literally it is, "they were tired." Then they were described as sheep,
the only animal known which in its wandering cannot find its way home
of itself. And finally it was stated that they had no shepherd, the
responsibility for their wandering resting upon others rather than upon
themselves. This is the outline of this message.
I
The picture which Jesus beheld as he walked through his own country is
repeated to-day on every side of us, and he is still moved with
compassion because of those who are helpless and undone. It is true we
have done something for him. The last census shows that the membership
of the Protestant churches has increased more rapidly than the
population. For this we should be thankful. It is also true that the
church machinery of the day is well nigh perfect: the buildings and
equipment with which we have to do have never been excelled. Yet,
counting the membership of both the Catholic and Protestant churches,
there are forty million people to-day in our land who are not in the
church and who evidently do not care for the church. With these people
there seems to be a growing indifference to everything that is
spiritual.
A man in an apartment house in New York, when asked the other day to do
something for a poor family for the sake of God, answered
blasphemously, "I do not care for the opinion of men, I do not even
care for God himself; I am for myself first, last and all the time."
As we walk the streets we ought to be impressed with the fact that men
on every side of us are lost in the proportion of one to four. As we
sit in a car we ought to be impressed with the fact that one in four
have rejected Christ and are hopeless. In every city it is literally
true that there are thousands of unchurched people without God and
without hope in the world. Of them the text would be true. "But when
he saw the multitudes he was moved with compassion."