Miracles Begin With Compassion

Miracles Begin With Compassion

Luke 7:11-17

Miracles. We would all like to have a miracle or two. Remember the Christmas musical we did this past Christmas? One of our friends from Middleburg captured the musical on video. She was sitting right up front where she could get a very good view. It was a lot of fun reviewing that production. One of my favorite scenes was when we were looking for miracles. "Everybody could use a miracle or two!"

If you could have a miracle, what kind of miracle would you like to see happen? Win the lottery? That would take a miracle, even if you do buy a ticket. Having the pews of the church filled with people eager to grow as disciples? Heck, just having the pews filled with people! And if the pews are filled with people then we would be closer to having the money to build the new fellowship hall, debt free! Perhaps there is a person close to you who has a medical problem that needs miraculous attention? I could imagine the city streets and neighborhoods from 103rd St. in front of the church to Wilson Blvd in Cedar Hills becoming a safe vibrant community. I can imagine a miracle or two, can't you? And, certainly, God is capable of delivering such miracles, if God would choose to do so. 

That is how our thinking about miracles often begin. We see a need. We feel helpless because the need is greater than our ability to "fix it." So we see our only help being an intervention by the Divine. Often, our ideas of miracles begin with a celebration of the power of God. God can do anything. When our situation seems helpless, we turn to God for a miracle or two.

Our gospel lesson is a miracle story. In fact, this passage comes after a series of miracles and wonders and teachings. After returning from his 40 days in the wilderness, Jesus has cast out unclean spirits, healed Simon's mother-in-law, cleansed a leper, healed a paralytic that was lowered by some friends through a whole they made in the roof, and he began calling his disciples, gathering folks around him. He has engaged the religious leaders, performed a healing on the sabbath, and taught about loving enemies and not judging people. As the story progresses, Jesus has developed quite a gathering of the curious and the committed. As he is walking down the road to another small town, he has a large crowd following. Coming out of the town is another large crowd. This crowd is not following the life giving Savior. This crowd is following the funeral bier of a young man who is clearly dead. Behind the bearers is a woman who is nearly overcome with her grief. She is a widow. This was her only son. Not only is she sad for the loss of her child, but suddenly her entire future, her own life has become uncertain. A widowed woman who has no sons, has no place. Society does not accommodate those who don't fit the expectations. The grieving mother was surrounded by a large crowd, but in a few short days she would be all alone. 

And Jesus had compassion on the woman. I don't believe that he looked upon the body of the boy and said to himself, "See how horrible is death! I must give him life so that he can continue to live." Instead, he saw the woman. He saw her grief. He understood her future. He had compassion for her and he returned to her the son that would help her continue to have a life with some meaning and purpose. You could even argue that Jesus didn't do any favors for the boy. The boy was dragged back from the joyful kingdom of God so that he could continue to toil and labor. It makes me wonder, though. I have often heard a person who knew that she or he was dying who expressed in their grief that they had to leave and could not continue to care for someone important to them. Perhaps, Jesus knew how much this boy loved his mother and cared about her. Perhaps Jesus knew that the labor this boy would have would truly be a labor of love. So, Jesus had compassion and the miraculous happened. 

I heard a story once, but can't find the source for accurate telling, so I will relate it the best I can. Cecile B. de Mille died and went before Peter. Talking with Peter about the great epoch movies he produced, Cecile finally turned to Peter and said, "Why doesn't God do those great miracles any more, like the parting of the red sea?" Peter said, "Oh, those aren't miracles, those are special effects."

What are the true miracles that you see? It may bewhen a cancer is cured, and also when a heart is softened. The miracle is to see in the opening flower the beauty and wonder of creation. The miracle is to have your heart skip a beat or two when you touch the tiny fingers of a new born baby. A miracle is when you are feeling so low to the ground that you need to get a step ladder to climb out of the gutter, and then someone takes your hand with such tenderness and genuine caring that you feel the healing of your heart begin. True miracles begin with compassion. When we have genuine compassion in what we do then we unleash such power that healing and wholeness and peace are all possible.

Burce Lipton and Steve Bhaerman share a story in their book, Spontaneous Evolution. They 

"tell  the story of Michael Weisser, a Jewish cantor, and his wife, Julie. They had recently         moved to their new home in Lincoln, Nebraska, in June 1991 when their peaceful unpacking was interrupted by a threatening phone call.

"Shortly afterward, they received a package of racist flyers with a card that announced, "The KKK is watching you, scum." The police told the Weissers it looked like the work of Larry Trapp, a self-described Nazi and local Ku Klux Klan grand dragon. Trapp had been linked to fire bombings of African American homes in the area and a center for Vietnamese refugees. The 44-year-old Trapp, leader of the area's white supremacist movement, was wheelchair bound and had diabetes. At the time, he was making plans to bomb B'nai Jeshuran, the synagogue where Weisser was cantor.

"Julie Weisser, while frightened and infuriated by the hate mail, also felt a spark of compassion for Trapp, who lived alone in a one-room apartment. She decided to send Trapp a letter every day with passages from Proverbs. When Michaels saw that Trapp had launched a hate-spewing TV series on the local cable network, he called the Klan hotline and kept leaving messages: "Larry, why do you hate me? You don't even know me?" 

"At one point, Trapp actually answered the phone and Michael, after identifying himself, asked him if he needed a hand with his grocery shopping. Trapp refused, but a process of rethinking began to stir in him. For a while, he was two people: one still spewing invective on TV; the other talking with Michael Weisser on the phone, saying, "I can't help it, I've been talking like that all my life."

"One night, Michael asked his congregation to pray for someone who is "sick from the illness of bigotry and hatred." That night, Trapp did something he'd never done before. The swastika rings he wore on both hands began to itch, so he took them off. The next day, he called the Weissers and said, "I want to get out, but I don't know how." Michael suggested that he and Julie drive to Trapp's apartment so they could "break bread together." Trapp hesitated, then agreed.

"At the apartment, Trapp broke into tears and handed the Weissers his swastika rings. In November 1991, he resigned from the Klan and later wrote apologies to the groups he had wronged. On New Year's Eve, Larry Trapp found out he had less than a year to live, and, that same night, the Weissers invited him to move in with them. Their living room became Trapp's bedroom, and he told them, "You are doing for me what my parents should have done for me."

"Bedridden, Trapp began to read about Mahatma Gandhi and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and to learn about Judaism. On June 5, 1992, he converted to Judaism--at the very synagogue he had once planned to blow up. Julie quit her job to care for Larry Trapp in his last days, and when he died on September 6th of that year, Michael and Julie were holding his hands." 

As we begin with acts of compassion the possibilities are enormous. Where do you see the need for compassion? Where do you see someone who is hurting? Where do you see need for God's intervention? Where do you find yourself feeling anxious or afraid? We DO NOT need to sit back and wait for God's powerful intervention. We have the capacity within ourselves to make a difference. You may be asking yourself, yes but what difference can simple acts of one person make? The truth is the only thing that has ever made a difference are the simple acts of compassion of individuals and the groups to which they belong.