He saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. . .
The story is told of a widowed man who was a passionate art collector. He traveled the world adding the finest art treasures to his collection. He loved to sit for hours staring at the masterpieces that adorned his wall. The man also had a son who became a skilled physician, and this was also a source of great pleasure and pride for the man.
One summer, his son left his comfortable hometown to serve on a medical mission trip in Central America. After he had been gone for some three months, a fierce and furious hurricane swept through the region, wiping out whole villages. After some hours of waiting for communications to come through, his father’s worst fears were confirmed. The young man had lost his life in the disaster, far from his home. The old man became extremely distraught, and the pain of his loss pierced his heart.
Then one morning, a knock on the door awakened the depressed old man. As he walked to the door, the masterpieces of art on the walls that he passed now only reminded him that his son was not coming home. When he opened the door, he was greeted by a small man holding a package that was almost as big as he was.
The visitor introduced himself as a friend of the man’s son. I wanted you to know that it was your son who saved my family through his great sacrifice, said the man.
The father invited him into his home. The little man went on to say, It is always a hard life for people in my village, even when there are no hurricanes. Your son’s caring presence among us was a great gift, and I wanted you to know.
As he said this, he placed the package in the father’s hands. As the old man unwrapped the package, a slightly blurry, somewhat grainy enlarged picture was revealed. It was a picture of the man’s son holding a small village child as his mother looked on. The son had a warm smile on his face, and the mother looked hopeful. Overcome with emotion, the father thanked him, and they talked for hours about all the simple acts of kindness the son had shown the people of the village where life was so hard.
After the man had left, the father hung the photograph of his son above the fire place, pushing aside an expensive Picasso to make room for the newest and best picture.
The man, now full of hope and joy, sat for hours and stared at the now finest masterpiece upon which he had ever laid his eyes.
St. Mark tells us that Jesus had compassion for the crowds, because they were like sheep without a shepherd.
Our Gospel this week is kind of like a piece of connective tissue that bridges gaps between major stories when Jesus wasn’t doing the things that we often think were the most significant, like walking on water, and stilling thunderous storms.
Instead, in this Gospel, what we find is Jesus looking with compassion on people who were searching for a smidgen of hope, of just a bit of the kind of love that the son in the story showed the residents of the small, haggard village where he served.
Do you remember what they captured in that less than professional photograph they gave the grieving father? They captured a simple warm and caring smile.
Sometimes that’s all sheep without a shepherd need.
People gathered around Jesus and pressed in upon him so much that we are told that Jesus couldn’t even find time to rest or even stop to eat a meal. It didn’t do any good to cross the great Sea of Galilee to find some place of solace and privacy, because when they got to the other side, the crowds were even larger in numbers, tugging at his cloak, begging him for help, dragging sick people to him on mats, voice upon voice all begging for his help. I get exhausted just thinking about it.
And what does Jesus offer them at that moment? This is a key theological question. Does he offer them vials of medicines, complete with clean syringes, or a hot meal and a clean shower?
No, what Jesus offers them is compassion like a shepherd offers his sheep. A guiding presence, a warm and caring affect that gives them assurance. It’s a picture of The Good Shepherd, and it stands with the great works of art in museums and in stained glass all over the world. It’s priceless!
I believe that the real goal here is to begin to see the kind of caring that Jesus demonstrates in this passage as nothing less than a genuine healing miracle. . . as an event as great as anything we have read about anywhere in the Bible.
This is what I think Jesus was trying to get at when he said, in the 14thchapter of the Gospel of John, You who believe in Me, the works that I do you will do also; and greater works than these you will do. . .
I don’t believe that Jesus was talking about walking on water or changing weather patterns; I think he was talking about the simple care that one gives to those who are like sheep without a shepherd. I think he was talking about the kind of love depicted in the caring smile in that less than stellar photograph, and the act of giving that photograph to a grieving father.
Some may say, big deal, but Christians should never say that, because the Lord and Savior they follow gave out this kind of love at every turn. It was the bread and butter of his ministry.
There are many ways to touch people, and one of them is to really seethem, by looking on them with compassion as Jesus does so many times over and over again in the Gospels.
One advantage of taking these connective verses out of their context and allowing them to speak to us on their own, is that their very lack of spectacular detail makes it easier for readers like us to imagine ourselves doing these Jesus-like things right in our own backyards each and every day!
As you have probably noticed, there are a lot of sheep without shepherds in our own home towns. We aren’t going to save them all. It should be a comfort to know that there is only one Savior of the World, and it’s not us.
It should be a comfort to know that our various churches are not the center of Christendom, and our Gospel this week even goes so far as to give us permission to go away to a deserted place and try to get some rest when there are just too many pressing in upon us.
But when we are on duty, our job, as agents of the Good Shepherd, is perhaps much simpler than we might imagine. And the gift we give just might be the finest masterpiece upon which the ones we serve will ever lay their eyes!
As a retired teacher, I always wonder if I ever made a difference in my students life.
Just last week, I receive an email from a troubled student I had in the early 197os.
She said we just moved back to Sacramento and wanted to let you know, “That you saved my life.” I did a lot of personal counseling with her and then lost touch.
Well this sure made my day, week, month and year.
I have learned over the years we never know who we touch others life.
I always tried to be kind and let my students know I cared.
Oh these many years have passed and I’m still getting this type of feed back from time to time. It is Love that makes a difference.