Luke 14: 1-6
On one occasion when Jesus was going to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat a meal on the sabbath, they were watching him closely. Just then, in front of him, there was a man who had dropsy. And Jesus asked the lawyers and Pharisees, “Is it lawful to cure people on the sabbath, or not?” But they were silent. So Jesus took him and healed him, and sent him away. Then he said to them, “If one of you has a child or an ox that has fallen into a well, will you not immediately pull it out on a sabbath day?” And they could not reply to this.
New Revised Standard Version, copyright 1989, by the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved. USCCB approved.
Choose Compassion
Jesus’s invitation to Sabbath dinner at the home of a scribe must surely have been an ominous sign. Entering into this scene we feel the tension of everyone in the room. The contagion of smiles is clearly a facade and every move is calculated. It doesn’t take long before the trap is set and Jesus, well aware, seated by a man suffering from edema, invites everyone at the table into the dilemma. They all know the law, but, Jesus asks, does compassion ever take precedence? Only silence comes in response. Jesus acts first with his heart, always seeking the greater good and choosing the more loving response over blind adherence to the law.
We look into our own hearts and ask the same question. How often do I let my self-created laws get in the way of showing mercy? My checklist of schedules, my own comfort, the worthiness of the man in front of me allows me to look right past him and maintain this same silence. Whenever law and love collide, Jesus chooses love. If I profess to be his follower, I must be willing to do the same.
What “law” can I set aside today in order that I might be more present to the needs of others? How can I model choosing love as Jesus did?
—Tere Allen is a retired vice principal from Sacred Heart Nativity Schools in San Jose, California, who is now contemplating God through her Substack writing.
Prayer
Gracious God, help us to see those at our own dinner tables who might be in need. Forgive us when we let our own routines and rules blind us to the pain of our neighbors and prevent us from reaching out. Let us look out at the world through the loving eyes of Jesus and always choose compassion over our own comfort.
Through Jesus Christ, our Lord.
Amen
—Tere Allen