Compassion serves as the profound wellspring of miraculous occurrences. When Jesus ventured into the wilderness and confronted the devil, he confronted three specific temptations: the allure of relevance, the desire for spectacle, and the quest for power.
Miracles possess the potential to deliver these outcomes, yet seeking them for such reasons is misguided. In Matthew 14, the narrative unfolds around the feeding of a hungry multitude, a poignant moment as Jesus grapples with the news of his cousin John the Baptist’s death.
The scripture reads, “When Jesus heard what had happened, he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns. When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick” (Matthew 14:13-14). In the midst of personal grief and a desire for solitude, Jesus is confronted by a vast, needy assembly. Despite his mourning, a beautiful moment ensues when he “had compassion on them.”
Herein lies the crux: miracles emanate from compassion. The term used in the original New Testament Greek, splagchnizomai, conveys a deep, gut-level response. It resonates as an onomatopoeic expression, resembling a visceral reaction—akin to an audible “oomph” or the physical response of bending over in pain. Jesus felt the pain and needs of the multitude in a tangible way, a sentiment ultimately fully expressed in his crucifixion.
Miracles are not theatrical displays or markers of success. They emerge as a visceral response to understanding and internalizing God’s compassion for the lost, lonely, dispossessed, and distraught. While signs and wonders are intended to accompany the works of an apostle (as Jesus is referred to in Hebrews 3:1), they are, at their core, symbolic expressions of compassion rather than status symbols.
While advocating for the restoration of the apostolic, coupled with the manifestation of miracles, it is crucial to emphasize the necessity of a righteous motivation—rooted in genuine, gut-felt compassion.
