Compassion and discipleship

Jesus said “I am thirsty”.  And “one of them ran and got a sponge, filled it with sour wine, put it on a stick, and gave it to him to drink” (NRSV, John 19:28; Matthew 27:48)

Crucifixion was in origin an Oriental punishment and the Romans probably learnt it as a result of their trade with Carthage, the great commercial city in North Africa.  This had been founded by colonists from Phoenicia which now comprises modern Lebanon and parts of Syria and Israel.

Among the Jews in Our Lord’s time the normal method of capital punishment was by stoning, and when Jesus predicted that he would be killed by the Gentiles his meaning was clear.  Crucifixion was universally regarded with horror and revulsion, and the Romans themselves restricted it to criminals and slaves.

It is remarkable that the Gospels show the utmost simplicity and restraint in recording the Crucifixion of Jesus.  This is probably because crucifixions, which were always held in public as a deterrent to others, were an all too familiar sight in the Roman Empire.  Indeed, they were so familiar that Jesus could take the preliminary cross-bearing to the place of execution as symbolic of the self-sacrifice which he required in his disciples if they were to be true followers of him (Mark 8:34).

The attitude of the Romans themselves to crucifixion was expressed by the barrister Cicero in his final speech for the prosecution in the trial of Verres in 70 BC.  Verres had been governor of Sicily and on his return to Rome at the end of his term of office, he was indicted for gross misgovernment.  Among the charges was that of having crucified a man who was a Roman citizen and as such was legally exempt from that form of punishment.  In referring to what he called “this most cruel and hideous penalty”, Cicero declared “To bind a Roman citizen is a crime, to flog him is an abomination…to crucify him is – what?  There is no fitting word that can possibly describe so horrible a deed”. (1)

The four guards on duty at the Cross, therefore, were soldiers serving in the Roman army, probably recruited in Syria, though the centurion, the non-commissioned officer who was in charge, may well have been a Roman. They would be quite insensitive to their task – it was in the regular line of duty – but as the minutes dawdled into hours a feeling of compassion for Our Lord awoke in the heart of one of the soldiers.

Most of the men they crucified were a pretty brutal lot who went to their deaths savagely cursing their executioners and the morbid sightseers.  But there was nothing like that about Jesus.  The soldier had never come across anyone like him before.  It was not only the few words he had uttered – his prayer that everyone responsible for his death might be forgiven; his provision for his Mother’s future; his gentleness and care for the terrorist dying next to him.  There was his whole bearing which was altogether new to the soldier.  He would like to help Jesus only he was now past all help.

And then Jesus spoke to him.  “I’m thirsty”.  One of the torments of crucifixion was a thirst which gradually became unendurable through the steady loss of blood.  Here then was something he could do and in his eagerness to help, although he was on guard duty, he actually ran to where a sponge was lying by his haversack.  He plunged it into the mug of sour wine which he had brought with him and putting the sponge on a stick, a hyssop cane, he raised it gently to the parched mouth of the dying Christ.

As the troubled concern of Pilate’s wife had contrasted so strongly with the malice of Our Lord’s accusers, so this single act of compassion relieved the brutality of those three terrible hours on Calvary.  That it was perfomed not by a disciple but by a hard-bitten legionary makes it all the more creditable.

And in today’s world there is still a great need for compassion.  In our own country, in spite of the welfare state and all its unparalleled provision for those in sickness or want, there are unfortunate children and adults in loneliness and distress who can truthfully echo the words of the psalm, “I looked for pity, but there was none; and for comforters, but I found none” (NRSV, 69:20b).  And across the world there are millions of people suffering from hunger, thirst and preventable disease.

Condemnation for the great weight of suffering as often as not comes from people who do not claim to be Christians.  This highlights all the more the truth that Christians should be men and women of compassion as was Our Blessed Lord.

Compassion means feeling deeply for someone in trouble to the extent that one is moved to try to help that person.  Compassion, therefore, is a practical thing.  In the Gospels we see this over and over again.  How often do we read that Our Lord had compassion both on individuals who needed help and on the crowds who followed him, as sheep without a shepherd.

The same quality comes out in the teaching of Jesus, as for example in the Parable of the Good Samaritan who had compassion on the injured traveller and went to him and tended his wounds and took care of him.

An important part of Christian discipleship is to be concerned with the seven corporal works of mercy which the medieval Church drew up for her members to perform.  These acts of compassion are derived from Our Lord’s Parable of the Judgement in which people are accepted or rejected by him according to whether or not they have performed them.  The corporal works of mercy are so called because they relate to the wellbeing of people’s bodies but it is plain that they have a positive impact on the whole person – mind and spirit, as well as body.  The seven corporal works of mercy are to: