Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 1407
“Who can ha ve compassion on the ignorant, and on them that are out of the way; for that he himself also is compassed with infirmity.” Hebrews 5:2.
THIS is a part of the necessary qualification of a priest. Under the old Law there were priests who were taken from among men in order that they might speak to God for men and might speak to men for God. They were taken from among men, not from among angels, and they were taken from men compassed with infirmity—not from absolutely perfect men like those in Heaven—in order that they might be familiar with sinful and suffering men and on a level with them. When the people of Israel came to them they saw that they were speaking to persons who knew and understood their weaknesses and sorrows—not to exalted beings who would look down upon them with serene indifference.
They felt that they could approach their priest without the awe which creates a freezing distance, as though a deep crevasse opened between them. And when they spoke to their friend, the minister of God, they felt that they could tell him their trials and troubles, for he had felt the same and, therefore, was able to console and comfort them. Many a kindly word the good man spoke, before he sent them back to their houses, which he never could have spoken unless he had been a man, himself, “compassed with infirmity.”
Loving them and being such as they were, he was able to have patience with the many strange cases which came before him. He was not soon vexed by their stupidity, but listened carefully to what they had to say, trying to solve their difficulties and to meet their cases. He knew that he, too, was weakness and folly, itself, before his God. And his own afflictions and trembling made him feel that he must be gentle to others since the Lord had been tender to him. It was, in the all-wise Providence of God, ordained that the sons of Aaron should be men compassed with infirmity that they might compass others with sympathy.
Men admire an iron duke for war, but who could bear an iron priest in the hour of trouble? A bronze wall is good for a defense, but we need a breast of flesh and blood for consolation. Give me, for a spiritual comforter and guide, not an infallible pontiff, nor a thrice-crowned spiritual lord, but a brother of my own condition, a friend possessed of a nature like my own! After mentioning this fact, which is stated in the text, I would bring forth two remarks which will constitute the essence of our discourse.
The first is that compassion and forbearance are two great qualifications for doing good to our fellow men. And, secondly—and upon this I shall dwell at length—that both of these are found pre-eminently in our Lord Jesus Christ and, therefore, we may with boldness come to Him. May the great Spirit whose teaching is our only means of profiting bless our meditation!
I. First, then, COMPASSION AND FORBEARANCE ARE TWO THINGS WHICH ANY MAN WHO WOULD DO GOOD TO HIS FELLOW MEN OUGHT TO POSSESS TO A VERY LARGE DEGREE. You will have plenty of use for all the compassion and all the tenderness that you can possibly command, for this will help to draw around you those who are ignorant and out of the way. Men will not gather to some individuals—they are too hard, too cold, too stern. They seem cut out of stone—they have no feeling. Or else they are dry and leathery and have none of the juice of humanity in them—no warm blood—no milk of human kindness and you are not attracted to them.
Who loves a bag of old nails, or a sack of sawdust? And yet some men and women are almost as hard and dry! If you want to draw people around you, you must have sympathy with them. Compassion magnetizes a man and makes him attract as the loadstone fascinates the needle. A big heart is one of the main essentials to great usefulness. Try and cultivate it. Do not let another man’s sorrow fall upon a deaf ear as far as you are concerned, but sorrow with the sorrowful and have compassion upon the ignorant and those that are out of the way. They will soon perceive it and they will do to you as they did to your Master, of whom we read, “Then drew near unto Him all the publicans and sinners.”
Men will cluster around you like bees around their queen! They will not be able to help it. They will not wish to help it. Love is the queen bee and where she is, you will find the center of the hive.
By this same spell you will hold those whom you gather, for men will not long remain with an unloving leader. Even little children in our classes will not long listen to an unsympathetic teacher. Great armies of soldiers must be led by a great soldier—and children must be held in hand by child-like instructors. When human beings surround an uncompassionate person, they soon find it out and fly away at a tangent as if by instinct. You may collect people for a time by some extraneous means, but unless they perceive that you love them and that your heart goes out with desires for their good, they will soon weary of you.