The Compassion of Jesus

                                 A Sermon
                                    by
                               C.H. SPURGEON


              "He was moved with compassion."--Matthew 9:36. 

This is said of Christ Jesus several times in the New Testament. The 
original word is a very remarkable one. It is not found in classic Greek. It 
is not found in the Septuagint. The fact is, it was a word coined by the 
evangelists themselves. They did not find one in the whole Greek language 
that suited their purpose, and therefore they had to make one. It is 
expressive of the deepest emotion; a striving of the bowels--a yearning of 
the innermost nature with pity. As the dictionaries tell us-- Ex intimis 
visceribus misericordia commoveor. I suppose that when our Saviour 
looked upon certain sights, those who watched him closely perceived that 
his internal agitation was very great, his emotions were very deep, and then 
his face betrayed it, his eyes gushed like founts with tears, and you saw that 
his big heart was ready to burst with pity for the sorrow upon which his 
eyes were gazing. He was moved with compassion. His whole nature was 
agitated with commiseration for the sufferers before him.

Now, although this word is not used many times even by the evangelists, 
yet it may be taken as a clue to the Saviour's whole life, and I intend 
thus to apply it to him. If you would sum up the whole character of Christ 
in reference to ourselves, it might be gathered into this one sentence, "He 
was moved with compassion." Upon this one point we shall try to insist now, 
and may God grant that good practical result may come of it. First, I shall 
lead your meditations to the great transactions of our Saviour's life; 
secondly, to the special instances in which this expression is used by the 
evangelists; thirdly, to the forethought which he took on our behalf; and 
fourthly to the personal testimony which one's own recollections can 
furnish. Let us take a rapid survey of:

I. THE GREAT LIFE OF CHRIST, just touching, as with a swallow's wing, the 
evidence it bears from the beginning. Before ever the earth was framed; 
before the foundations of the everlasting hills were laid, when as yet the 
stars had not begun their shining, it was known to God that his creature 
man would sin; that the whole race would fall from its pure original state 
in the first Adam, the covenant head as well as the common parent of the 
entire human family; and that in consequence of that one man's disobedience 
every soul born of his lineage would become a sinner too. Then, as the 
Creator knew that his creatures would rebel against him, he saw that it 
would become necessary, eventually, to avenge his injured law. Therefore, 
it was purposed, in the eternal plan, ere the stream of time had commenced 
its course, or ages had began to accumulate their voluminous records, that 
there should be an interposer--one ordained to come and re-head the race, 
to be a second Adam, a federal Chief; to restore the breach, and repair the 
mischief of the first Adam; to be a Surety to answer for the sons of men on 
whom God's love did light; that their sins should be laid upon him, and 
that he should save them with an everlasting salvation. No angel could 
venture to intrude into those divine counsels and decrees, or to offer 
himself as the surety and sponsor for that new covenant. Yet there was 
one--and he none other than Jehovah's self--of whom he said, Let all the 
angels of God worship him, the Son, the well beloved of the Father, of whom 
it is written in the Word, "When he prepared the heavens I was there, when 
he set a compass upon the face of the depth, when he established the clouds 
above, when he strengthened the fountain of the deep"; then, "I was by him 
as one brought up with him, and I was daily his delight, rejoicing always 
before him; rejoicing in the habitable parts of the earth; and my delights 
were with the sons of men." He it is of whom the Apostle John speaks as the 
Word who was God, and was in the beginning with God. Was he not moved with 
compassion when he entered into a covenant with his father on our behalf, 
even on the behalf of all his chosen--a covenant in which he was to be the 
sufferer, and they the gainers--in which he was to bear the shame that he 
might bring them into his own glory? Yes, verily, he was even then moved 
with compassion, for his delights even then were with the sons of men. Nor 
did his compassion peer forth in the prospect of an emergency presently to 
diminish and disappear as the rebellion took a more active form, and the 
ruin assumed more palpable proportions. It was no transient feeling. He 
continued still to pity men. He saw the fall of man; he marked the subtle 
serpent's mortal sting; he watched the trail as the slime of the serpent 
passed over the fair glades of Eden; he observed man in his evil progress, 
adding sin to sin through generation after generation, fouling every page of 
history until God's patience had been tried to the uttermost; and then, 
according as it was written in the volume of the Book that he must appear, 
Jesus Christ came himself into this stricken world. Came how? O, be 
astonished, ye angels, that ye were witnesses of it, and ye men that ye 
beheld it. The Infinite came down to earth in the form of an infant; he who 
spans the heavens and holds the ocean in the hollow of his hand, 
condescended to hang upon a woman's breast--the King eternal became a 
little child. Let Bethlehem tell that he had compassion. There was no way 
of saving us but by stooping to us. To bring earth up to heaven, he must 
bring heaven down to earth. Therefore, in the incarnation, he must bring 
heaven down to earth. Therefore, in the incarnation, he had compassion, 
for he took upon himself our infirmities, and was made like unto ourselves. 
Matchless pity, indeed, was this!

Then, while he tarried in the world, a man among men, and we beheld his 
glory, the glory as of the Only Begotten of the Father, full of grace and 
truth, he was constantly moved with compassion; for he felt all the griefs of 
mankind in himself. He took our sicknesses and carried our sorrows: he 
proved himself a true brother, with quick, human sensibilities. A tear 
brought a tear into his eye; a cry made him pause to ask what help he could 
render. So generous was his soul, that he gave all he had for the help of 
those that had not. The fox had its hole, and the bird its nest, but he had no 
dwelling-place. Stripped even of his garments, he hung upon the cross to 
die. Never one so indigent in death as he, without a friend, without even a 
tomb, except such as a loan could find him. He gave up all the comforts of 
life--he gave his life itself; he gave his very self to prove that he was 
moved with compassion. Most of all do we see how he was moved with 
compassion in his terrible death. Oft and oft again have I told this story, 
yet these lips shall be dumb ere they cease to reiterate the old, old tidings. 
God must punish sin, or else he would relinquish the government of the 
universe. He could not let iniquity go unchastened without compromising 
the purity of his administration. Therefore, the law must be honoured, 
justice must be vindicated, righteousness must be upheld, crime must be 
expiated by suffering. Who, then, shall endure the penance or make the 
reparation? Shall the dread sentence fall upon all mankind? How far shall 
vengeance proceed before equity is satisfied? After what manner shall the 
sword do homage to the sceptre? Must the elect of God be condemned for 
their sins? No; Jesus is moved with compassion. He steps in, he takes upon 
himself the uplifted lash, and his shoulders run with gore; he bares his 
bosom to the furbished sword, and it smites the Shepherd that the sheep 
may escape. "He looked, and there was no man, and wondered that there 
was no intercessor; therefore, his arm brought salvation." He trod the wine- 
press alone, and "bore, that we might never bear, his Father's righteous 
ire."

Are ye asked what means the crucifixion of a perfect man upon a felon's 
cross, ye may reply, "He was moved with compassion." "He saved others; 
himself he could not save." He was so moved with compassion, that 
compassion, as it were, did eat him up. He could save nothing from the 
general conflagration: he was utterly consumed with love, and died in the 
flame of ardent love towards the sons of men. And after he had died and 
slept a little while in the grave, he rose again. He has gone into his glory; 
he is living at the right hand of the Father; but this is just as true of him, 
"He is moved with compassion." Is proof wanted? Let faith pass within the 
veil, and let your spirits for a moment stand upon that sea of glass mingled 
with fire where stand the harpers tuning their never-ceasing melodies. 
What see you there conspicuous in the very midst of heaven but One who 
looks like a lamb that has been slain, and wears his priesthood still? What 
is his occupation there in heaven? He has no bloody sacrifice to offer, for 
he has perfected for ever those that were set apart. That work is done, but 
what is he doing now? He is pleading for his people; he is their perpetual 
Advocate, their continual Intercessor; he never rests until they come to 
their rest; he never holds his peace for them, but pleads the merit of his 
blood, and will do so till all whom the Father gave him shall be with him 
where he is. Well indeed does our hymn express it:--

                   "Now, though he reigns exalted high,
                        His love is still as great;
                        Well he remembers Calvary,
                       Nor will his saints forget."

His tender heart pities all the griefs of his dear people. There is not a pang 
they have but the head feels it, feels it for all the members. Still doth he 
look upon their imperfections and their infirmities, yet not with anger, not 
with loss of patience, but with gentleness and sympathy, "He is moved with 
compassion." Having thus briefly sketched the life of Christ, I want you to 
turn to:--

II. THOSE PASSAGES OF THE EVANGELISTS IN WHICH THEY TESTIFY THAT HE WAS 
MOVED WITH COMPASSION. 

You will find one case in Matthew 20:31: "Two blind men sat by the 
wayside begging, and when they heard that Jesus passed by, they said, 'O 
Lord, thou Son of David, have mercy on us.'" Jesus stood still, called them, 
questioned them, and they seem to have had full conviction that he both 
could and would restore their sight, so Jesus had compassion on them, 
touched their eyes, and immediately they received sight.

Yes, and what a lesson this is for any here present who have a like 
conviction. Do you believe that Christ can heal you? Do you believe that he 
is willing to heal you? Then let me assure you that a channel of 
communication is opened between him and you, for he is moved with 
compassion towards you, and already I hear him command you to come to 
him. He is ready to heal you now. The sad condition of a blind man should 
always move pity in the breast of the humane, but a glance at these two 
poor men--I do not know that there was anything strange or uncommon 
about their appearance--touched the Saviour's sensibility. And when he 
heard them say that they did believe he could heal them, he seemed to 
perceive that they had inward sight, and to account it a pity that they 
should not have outward sight too. So at once he put his fingers upon their 
eyes, and they received the power of seeing. O soul, if thou believest Christ 
can save thee, and if you wilt now trust in him to save thee, be of good 
cheer, thou art saved; that faith of thine hath saved thee. The very fact that 
thou believest that Jesus is the Christ, and doth rely upon him, may stand 
as evidence to thee that thou art forgiven, that thou art saved. There is no 
let or bar to thy full redemption. Go thy way and rejoice in thy Lord. He 
hath compassion on thee.

The next case I shall cite is that of the leper, Mark 1:41. This poor man 
was covered with a sad and foul disease, when he said to Jesus, "Lord, if 
thou wilt, thou canst make me clean." He had full faith in Christ's ability, 
but he had some doubts as to Christ's willingness. Our Saviour looked at 
him, and though he might very well have rebuked him that he should doubt 
his willingness, he merely said, "I will, be thou clean," and straightway he 
was made whole of that loathsome plague. If there is in this assembly one 
grievously defiled or openly disgraced by sin, seest thou the leprosy upon 
thyself, and dost thou say, "I believe he could save me if he would"? Hast 
thou some lingering doubt about the Saviour's willingness? Yet I beseech 
you breathe this prayer, "Lord, I believe, I believe thy power. Help thou 
mine unbelief which lingers round thy willingness." Then little as thy faith 
is, it shall save thee. Jesus, full of compassion, will pity even thine 
unbelief, and accept what is faith, and forgive what is unbelief. There is a 
second instance.

The third I will give you is from Mark 5:19. It was the demoniac. There 
met Christ a man so possessed with a devil as to be mad, and instead of 
belief in Christ or asking for healing, this spirit within the man compelled 
him to say, "Wilt thou torment us before the time?"--and rather to stand 
against Christ healing him than to ask for it; but Christ was moved with 
compassion, and he bade the evil spirit come out of the evil man. Oh! I am 
so glad of this instance of his being moved with compassion. I do not so 
much wonder that he has pity on those that believe in him, neither do I so 
much marvel that he has pity even on weak faith; but here was a case in 
which there was no faith, no desire, nor anything that could commend him 
to our Lord's sympathy. Is there no such case among the crowds gathered 
together here? You do not know why you have come into this assembly. 
You scarcely feel at home in this place. Though you have led a very sad 
life, you do not want to be converted--not you. You almost shun the 
thought. Yet it is written, "He will have compassion on whom he will have 
compassion." Well we have known it in this house, and I hope we shall 
know it again and again that the Lord has laid violent hands of love upon 
unprepared souls. They have been smitten down with repentance, renewed 
in heart, and saved from their sins. Saul of Tarsus had no thought that he 
should ever be an apostle of Christ, but the Lord stopped the persecutor, 
and changed him into a preacher; so that ever afterwards he propagated the 
faith which once he destroyed. May the Lord have compassion on you 
tonight. Well may we offer that prayer; for what will be your fate if you die 
as you are? What will be your doom eternally if you pass out of this world, 
as soon you must, without being sprinkled with the blood of Christ, and 
forgiven your iniquities? Jesus knows the terrors of the world to come. He 
describes the torments of hell. He sees your danger; he warns you; he pities 
you; he sends his messengers to counsel you; he bids me say to the very 
chief of sinners, "Come unto me, and I will give you rest." "Only return 
unto me and confess thine iniquity, and I will have mercy upon thee," saith 
the Lord. May God grant that the compassion of Christ may be seen in thy 
case.

As I turned over the Greek Concordance to find out where this word is 
repeated again and again, I found one instance in Luke 7:13. It refers to the 
widow at the gates of Nain. Her son was being carried out--her only son. 
He was dead, and she was desolate. The widow's only son was to her her 
sole stay; the succour as well as the solace of her old age. He was dead and 
laid upon the bier, and when Jesus saw the disconsolate mother, he was 
moved with compassion, and he restored her son. Oh! is there not 
refreshment here for you mothers that are weeping for your boys; you that 
have ungodly sons, unconverted daughters, the Lord Jesus sees your tears. 
You weep alone sometimes, and when you are sitting and enjoying the 
Word, you think, "Oh! that my Absalom were renewed; oh! that Ishmael 
might live before thee." Jesus knows about it. He was always tender to his 
own mother, and he will be so to you. And you that are mourning over 
those that have been lately taken from you, Jesus pities you. Jesus wept, he 
sympathises with your tears. He will dry them and give you consolation. 
"He was moved with compassion."

Still the occasions on which we find this expression most frequently used 
in the Evangelists are when crowds of people were assembled. At the sight 
of the great congregations that gathered to hear him, our Lord was often 
moved with compassion. Sometimes it was because that they were hungry 
and faint, and in the fulness of his sympathy he multiplied the loaves and 
fishes to feed them. At the same time he showed his disciples that it is a 
good work to feed the poor. He would not have them so spiritually-minded 
as to forget that the poor have flesh and blood that require sustenance, and 
they need to eat and to drink, to be housed and clothed: the Christian's 
charity must not lie in words only, but in deeds. Our Lord was moved with 
compassion, it is said, when he saw the number of sick people in the 
throng, for they made a hospital of his preaching place. Wherever he 
paused or even passed by, they laid the sick in the streets; he could not 
stand or walk without the spectacle of their pallets to harrow his feelings. 
And he healed their impotent folk, as if to show that the Christian does 
well to minister to the sick--that the patient watcher by the bedside may be 
serving the Lord, and following his example, as well as the most diligent 
teacher or the most earnest preacher of the glorious gospel. All means that 
can be used to mitigate human suffering are Christlike, and they ought to 
be carried out in his name, and carried to the utmost perfection possible. 
Christ is the patron of the hospital: he is the president of all places where 
men's bodies are cared for. But we are also told that the multitude excited 
his compassion because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he 
taught them as a guide that showed the path by leading the way; and he 
looked after their welfare as a Shepherd who regarded the health of their 
bodies as well as the good estate of their souls. Surely, brethren and 
sisters, if you love him, and wish to be like him, you cannot look on this 
congregation without pity. You cannot go out into the streets of London 
and stand in the high roads among the surging masses for half an hour 
without saying, "Whither away these souls? Which road are they 
travelling? Will they all meet in heaven?" What! live ye in London, move 
ye about in this great metropolis, and do ye never have the heartache, never 
feel your soul ready to burst with pity? Then shame upon you! Ask yourself 
whether ye have the spirit of Christ at all. In this congregation, were we all 
moved with pity as we should be, I should not have to complain, as I 
sometimes must, that persons come in and out here in want of someone to 
speak with them, to condole, to console, or to commune with them in their 
loneliness, and they find no helper. Time was when such a thing never 
occurred, but, in conversing with enquirers lately, I have met with several 
cases in which persons in a distressed state of mind have said that they 
would have given anything for half an hour's conversation with any 
Christian to whom they might have opened their hearts. They came from 
the country, attended the Tabernacle, and no one spoke to them. I am sorry 
it should be so. You used to watch for souls, most of you. Very careful were 
you to speak to those whom you saw again and again. I do pray you mend 
that matter. If you have any bowels of mercy, you should be looking out for 
opportunities to do good. Oh! never let a poor wounded soul faint for want 
of the balm. You know the balm. It has healed yourselves. Use it wherever 
the arrows of God have smitten a soul. Enough; I must leave this point; I 
have given you, I think, every case in which it is said that Jesus was moved 
with compassion. Very briefly let me notice:--

III. SOME OF THE FORESIGHTS OF HIS COMPASSION.

The Lord has gone from us, but as he knew what would happen while he 
was away, he has, with blessed forethought, provided for our wants. Well 
he knew that we should never be able to preserve the truth pure by 
tradition. That is a stream that always muddies and defiles everything. So 
in tender forethought he has given us the consolidated testimony, the 
unchangeable truth in his own Book; for he was moved with compassion. 
He knew the priests would not preach the gospel; he knew that no order of 
men could be trusted to hold fast sound doctrine from generation to 
generation; he knew there would be hirelings that dare not be faithful to 
their conscience lest they should lose their pay; while there would be others 
who love to tickle men's ears and flatter their vanity rather than to tell out 
plainly and distinctly the whole counsel of God. Therefore, he has put it 
here, so that if you live where there is no preacher of the gospel, you have 
the old Book to go to. He is moved with compassion for you. For where a 
man cannot go, the Book can go, and where in silence no voice is heard, 
the still clear voice of this blessed Book can reach the heart. Because he 
knew the people would require this sacred teaching, and could not have it 
otherwise, he was moved with compassion towards us all, and gave us the 
blessed Book of inspired God-breathed Scripture.

But then, since he knew that some would not read the Bible, and others 
might read and not understand it, he has sent his ministers forth to do the 
work of evangelists. He raises up men, saved themselves from great sin, 
trophies of redeeming grace, who feel a sympathy with their fellow-men 
who are revelling in sin, reckless of their danger. These servants of his the 
Lord enables to preach his truth, some with more, some with less ability 
than others; still, there are, thank God, throughout this happy realm, and 
in other favoured lands, men everywhere, who, because sinners will not 
come to Christ of themselves, go after them and persuade them, plead with 
them, and intreat them to believe and turn to the Lord. This cometh of 
Christ's tender gentleness. He was moved with compassion, and therefore 
he sent his servants to call sinners to repentance.

But since the minister, though he may call as he may, will not bring souls 
to Christ of himself, the Lord Jesus, moved with compassion, has sent his 
Spirit. The Holy Ghost is here. We have not to say:--

                    "Come Holy Spirit, heavenly dove."

He is here. He dwells in his Church, and he moves over the congregation, 
and he touches men's hearts, and he subtly inclines them to believe in 
Christ. Oh! this is great mercy when a Prince spreads a feast and gives an 
invitation. That is all you can expect him to do. But if he keeps a host of 
footmen and says, "Go and fetch them one by one till they do come," that is 
more gracious still. But if he goes himself and with sacred violence 
compels them to come in--oh! this is more than we could have thought he 
would have done; but he is moved with compassion, and he does that. 
Furthermore, brethren, the Lord Jesus knew that after we were saved from 
the damning power of sin, we should always be full of wants, and therefore 
he was moved with compassion, and he sets up the throne of grace, the 
mercy-seat, to which we may always come, and from which we may always 
obtain grace to help in time of need. Helped by his Spirit, we can bring 
what petitions we will, and they shall be heard. And then, since he knew 
we could not pray as we ought, he was moved with compassion when he 
sent the Holy Spirit to help our infirmities, to teach us how to pray. Now I 
do not know a single infirmity that I have or that you have, my Christian 
brother, but what Christ Jesus has been moved with compassion about it, 
and has provided for it. He has not left one single weak point of which we 
have to say, "There I shall fail, because he will not help there"; but he has 
looked us over and over from head to foot, and said, "You will have an 
infirmity there: I will provide for it. You will have a weakness there: I will 
provide for it." And oh! how his promises meet every case! Did you ever 
get into a corner where there was not a promise in the corner too? Had you 
ever to pass through a river but there was a promise about his being in the 
river with you? Were you ever on the sick bed without a promise like this, 
"I will make thy bed in thy sickness?" In the midst of pestilence have not 
you found a promise that "he shall cover thee with his feathers, and under 
his wings shalt thou trust?" The Lord's great compassion has met the wants 
of all his servants to the end. If our children should ever need much 
patience to be exercised towards them as Christ needs to exercise towards 
us, I am sure there would be none of us able to bear the house. They have 
their infirmities, and they full often vex and grieve us, it may be, but oh! 
we ought to have much compassion for the infirmities of our children--ay, 
and of our brethren and sisters, and neighbours--for what compassion has 
the Lord had with us? I do believe none but God could bear with such 
untoward children as we ourselves are. He sees our faults, you know, when 
we do not see them, and he knows what those faults are more thoroughly 
than we do. Yet still he never smites in anger. He cuts us not off, but he 
still continues to show us abounding mercies. Oh! what a guardian Saviour 
is the Lord Jesus Christ to us, and how we ought to bless his name at all 
times, and how his praise should be continually in our mouth. One thought 
strikes me that I must put in here: he knew that we should be very 
forgetful; and he was moved with compassion with our forgetfulness when 
he instituted the blessed Supper, and we can sit around the table and break 
bread, and pour forth the wine in remembrance of him. Surely this is 
another instance of how he is moved with compassion, and not with 
indignation, towards our weaknesses. And now let me close with:

IV. PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS OF THE COMPASSION OF CHRIST.

I shall only recall my own experience in order to stir up your pure minds 
by way of remembrance, my brethren and sisters. I do well remember when 
I was under conviction of sin, and smarted bitterly under the rod of God, 
that when I was most heavy and depressed there would sometimes come 
something like hope across my spirit. I knew what it was to say, "My soul 
chooseth strangling rather than life," yet when I was at the lowest ebb and 
most ready to despair, though I could not quite lay hold of Christ, I used to 
get a touch of the promise now and then, till I half hoped that, after all, I 
might prove to be God's prisoner, and he might yet set me free. I do 
remember well, when my sins compassed me about like bees, and I thought 
it was all over with me, and I must be destroyed by them, it was at that 
moment when Jesus revealed himself to me. Had he waited a little longer, I 
had died of despair, but that was no desire of his. On swift wings of love he 
came and manifested his dear wounded self to my heart. I looked to him 
and was lightened, and my peace flowed like a river. I rejoiced in him. 
Yes, he was moved with compassion. He would not let the pangs of 
conviction be too severe; neither would he suffer them to be protracted too 
long for the spirit of man to fail before him. It is not his wont to break a 
leaf that is driven by the tempest. "He will not quench the smoking flax." 
Yea, and I do remember since I first saw him and began to love him many 
sharp and severe troubles, dark and heavy trials, yet have I noted this, that 
they have never reached that pitch of severity which I was unable to bear. 
When all gates seemed closed, there has still been with the trial a way of 
escape, and I have noted again that in deeper depressions of spirits through 
which I have passed, and horrible despondencies that have crushed me 
down, I have had some gleams of love, and hope, and faith at the last 
moment; for he was moved with compassion. If he withdrew his face, it 
was only till my heart broke for him, and then he showed me the light of 
his countenance again. If he laid the rod upon me, yet when my soul cried 
under his chastening he could not bear it, but he put back the rod, and he 
said, "My child, I will comfort thee." Oh! the comforts that he gives on a 
sick bed! Oh! the consolations of Christ! when you are very low. If there is 
anything dainty to the taste in the Word of God, you get it then; if there be 
any bowels of mercy, you hear them sounding for you then. When you are 
in the saddest plight, Christ comes to your aid with the sweetest 
manifestations; for he is moved with compassion. How frequently have I 
noticed, and I tell it to his praise, for though it shows my weakness, it 
proves his compassion, that sometimes, after preaching the gospel, I have 
been so filled with self-reproach, that I could hardly sleep through the 
night because I had not preached as I desired. I have sat me down and 
cried over some sermons, as though I knew that I had missed the mark and 
lost the opportunity. Not once nor twice, but many a time has it happened, 
that within a few days someone has come to tell me that he found the Lord 
through that very sermon, the shortcoming of which I had deplored. Glory 
be to Jesus; it was his gentleness that did it. He did not want his servant to 
be too much bowed down with a sense of infirmity, and so he had 
compassion on him and comforted him. Have not you noticed, some of you, 
that after doing your best to serve the Lord, when somebody has sneered at 
you, or you have met with such a rebuff as made you half- inclined to give 
up the work, an unexpected success has been given you, so that you have 
not played the Jonah and ran away to Tarshish, but kept to your work? Ah! 
how many times in your life, if you could read it all, you would have to 
stop and write between the lines, "He was moved with compassion." Many 
and many a time, when no other compassion could help, when all the 
sympathy of friends would be unavailing, he has been moved with 
compassion towards us, has said to us, "Be of good cheer," banished our 
fears with the magic of his voice, and filled our souls to overflowing with 
gratitude. When we have been misrepresented, traduced, and slandered, we 
have found in the sympathy of Christ our richest support, till we could sing 
with rapture the verse--I cannot help quoting it now, though I have often 
quoted it before:--

                     "If on my face for thy dear name
                       Shame and reproach shall be,
                   I'll hail reproach and welcome shame,
                        Since thou rememberest me."

The compassion of the Master making up for all the abuses of his enemies. 
And, believe me, there is nothing sweeter to a forlorn and broken spirit 
than the fact that Jesus has compassion. Are any of you sad and lonely? 
Have any of you been cruelly wronged? Have you lost the goodwill of some 
you esteemed? Do you seem as if you had the cold shoulder even from good 
people? Do not say, in the anguish of your spirit, "I am lost," and give up. 
He hath compassion on you. Nay, poor fallen woman, seek not the dark 
river and the cold stream--he has compassion. He who looks down with the 
bright eyes of yonder stars and watches thee is thy friend. He yet can help 
thee. Though thou hast gone so far from the path of virtue, throw not 
thyself away in blank despair, for he hath compassion. And thou, broken 
down in health and broken down in fortune, scarcely with shoe to thy feet, 
thou art welcome in the house of God, welcome as the most honoured guest 
in the assembly of the saints. Let not the weighty grief that overhangs thy 
soul tempt thee to think that hopeless darkness has settled thy fate and 
foreclosed thy doom. Though thy sin may have beggared thee, Christ can 
enrich thee with better riches. He hath compassion. "Ah!" say you, "they 
will pass me on the stairs; they will give me a broad pathway, and if they 
see me in the street they will not speak to me--even his disciples will not." 
Be it so; but better than his disciples, tenderer by far, is Jesus. Is there a 
man here, whom to associate with were a scandal from which the pure and 
pious would shrink?; the holy, harmless, undefiled one will not disdain 
even him--for this man receiveth sinners--he is a friend of publicans and 
sinners. He is never happier than when he is relieving and retrieving the 
forlorn, the abject, and the outcast. He despises not any that confess their 
sins and seek his mercy. No pride nestles in his dear heart, no sarcastic 
word rolls off his gracious tongue, no bitter expression falls from his 
blessed lips. He still receives the guilty. Pray to him now. Now let the 
silent prayer go up, "My Saviour, have pity upon me; be moved with 
compassion towards me, for if misery be any qualification for mercy, I am a 
fit object for thy compassion. Oh! save me for thy mercy's sake!" Amen.

This File Provided by:

Tony Capoccia
Bible Bulletin Board (BBB)
internet:  www.biblebb.com
BBS: (609)-324-9187
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