John-David

I’ve been fortunate to spend a fair amount of time snow skiing over the last few years—at least for a guy from West Texas. One of the most frustrating things about skiing lately has been my goggles. They’re amazing when the sun is shining bright, but terrible when it’s cloudy or snowing. The darker it gets, the worse they perform. When there’s cloud cover, my goggles are too dark to let me see the contours of the hills or the lines of other skiers. It makes skiing difficult in conditions that are already more challenging. Just like having the right goggles for the conditions matters, looking at the world through the correct lens matters.

This morning, I was reading Mark 6 and came across the story of the Feeding of the 5,000. In this passage, Jesus and the apostles are tired after an extended period of ministry. So Jesus takes his apostles and seeks a desolate place to rest, traveling by boat. I’m sure you’ve been there—I certainly have—tired and just longing for retreat and rest.

However, as they go to leave they’re recognized, and a crowd follows them. Instead of finding a quiet place to rest, they are met by a huge crowd. We see Jesus’ response in Mark 6:34:

“When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he began teaching them many things.”¹

I am overwhelmed by Jesus’ response to the crowd. He had compassion on them. He didn’t get frustrated or annoyed—He had compassion. Reflecting on this story, I was drawn to Luke’s account of the crucifixion. Luke 23 recounts Jesus’ attitude during His crucifixion:

²⁷ A large number of people followed him, including women who mourned and wailed for him. ³³ When they came to the place called the Skull, there they crucified him, along with the criminals—one on his right, the other on his left. ³⁴ Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And they divided up his clothes by casting lots. ³⁵ The people stood watching, and the rulers even sneered at him. They said, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Christ of God, the Chosen One.²

Once again, Jesus is before a large crowd. And once again, He responds with compassion. In the first story, we see a tired, desperate, and hungry crowd—and Jesus has compassion. In the second story, it’s an angry, hostile crowd—and Jesus still responds with compassion.

I find Jesus’ compassion both overwhelming and compelling. He had every right to be tired and to ask for some time alone in the first story. In the second, he had every right to come down off the cross and destroy those who mocked him—which includes every person who has ever sinned, meaning you and me. Yet, he has compassion.

When you look at the world, do you see it through eyes of compassion?

When you’re at an overcrowded HEB, rushing through your errands, do you have compassion on the crowd?

When you can’t find a parking spot at a restaurant, do you have compassion on the crowd?

When your server takes too long with your food, do you look upon them with compassion?

Here’s one that really challenges me:

If you showed up to church on a Sunday and found a mass of tired and hungry people, and there were no parking spots or seats left, would you have compassion on the crowd?

I like to think my answer is “yes” to these questions—but if I’m being honest, too often the answer is “no.” I’d rather get in and out of the store quickly than deal with the crowd. I’d rather be frustrated when my food is delayed and punish a server who likely has no control over the kitchen. I like to think I’d be excited if my church was filled with the weary and searching, but I also really value my personal space. And if I’m not careful, I can easily find myself with an attitude very different from that of Jesus. I can end up seeing these crowds very differently than Jesus sees them.

I’ve also realized that my attitude toward others—especially crowds—is often a reflection of how closely I’m walking with God in that season. In Romans 12:1–2, we’re urged to live transformed lives: “¹ Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. ² Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”³

Once we’ve laid ourselves down and chosen to live that day as a living sacrifice, we will begin seeing the world the way that Jesus sees it. But it will require that we transform ourselves by the renewal of our minds. I know this because that kind of compassionate vision is exactly what we see in Romans 12:9-18 when it describes love:

⁹ Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. ¹⁰ Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. ¹¹ Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. ¹² Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. ¹³ Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.

¹⁴ Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. ¹⁵ Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. ¹⁶ Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited. ¹⁷ Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. ¹⁸ If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.⁴

The love described here is exactly how Jesus responded to the crowds He encountered. My hope is that this week, you’ll take time to “offer yourself as a living sacrifice” and “be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” This is how you slowly change out the lens on how you see the world.

1. The Holy Bible: New International Version (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1984), Mk. 6:34. ↩︎
2. Ibid., Lk. 23:27, 33–35. ↩︎
3. Ibid., Ro. 12:1-2. ↩︎
4. Ibid., Ro. 12:9–18. ↩︎