Compassion

"Son of David, have pity on us!"Mt. 9:27

The word pity in English always makes me uncomfortable. It sounds patronizing, something one might show a defenseless enemy, but perhaps this is all the blind men in today's gospel account really want or expect. The blind would have viewed themselves as beneath contempt because of their disability. Everyone knew blindness was a punishment for sin, either your own or your parents.  Blindness made you into a beggar.  Unable to work, you would have to sit by the side of the road and ask people in their charity for food and clothing.

Not infrequently, we can feel like blind people.  A new illness strikes us or a family member and because we have little experience with which to deal with this new invader, we feel like we are groping in the dark for answers.  A rare form of cancer or a difficult to diagnose heart ailment strikes a friend out of the blue, and everyone begins scrambling to understand, to find a doctor, to get a second opinion, to choose a form of treatment, and all of this before acceptance, the key to spiritual health, has a chance to emerge with its healing hopefulness. At times like this, we yearn for someone to take pity on us. Pity is enough because it is concrete and understandable, but in the long run, we realize that Jesus offers us something much more empowering.  He offers us, not just a light in the darkness, but compassion.

Compassion, in English, implies something more heartfelt than pity.  It is the quiet presence a friend offers when we are lost, confused, anxious and doubtful.  It is rarely surrounded with a multiplicity of words.  Rather, it looks like an open hand extended to us with love and tenderness.  It is not condescending or judgmental.  It is the simplest form of love and lets us know that we are not something to be fixed, but someone who needs a companion and friend with whom to take the next step.

Today, offer a stranger compassion.