79 Sermon Illustrations on Compassion for Others

"Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ" (Galatians 6:2). Concerning this passage, an eloquent preacher of the past wrote: "Many persons are caught with the most superficial contradiction. In the second verse it says, 'Bear ye one another's burdens'; and in the fifth it says, 'Every man shall bear his own burden.' As if both of them could not be true! As if a man carrying a burden for which he is especially responsible might not have it lightened somewhat by one who walked by his side and helped him! As if a little child carrying a heavily laden basket-which it was his task and business to carry, and which he had to take care of-might not be helped by another child walking by his side and taking hold of the handle. Might it not be said to one of them, 'This is your burden, and you must see to it'; and to the other, 'Help him with his burden.' To bear one another's burdens does not mean to take them from one another's shoulders, but to help each other to carry them." Be Such a Brother A well-to-do businessman gave a fine car to his brother. One day when the brother went to the place he'd parked the car, he saw a ragged boy looking the car over with great interest. Instead of saying, "Get away from that car, kid," he smiled at the youngster. The boy was the first to speak. "Is that car yours, Mister?" "Yes, it is," was the reply. "What did it cost?" was the next question. "Nothing," said the man. The boy looked at him curiously and said, "You don't look like the kind of guy who would steal a car." The owner laughed and said, "No, it was a present from my brother." The boy seemed incredulous. "Do you mean to say he gave it to you as a present, and it didn't cost you anything?" "That's right." Then the boy said the most surprising thing of all: "I sure do wish I could be such a brother as yours." One might have expected him to say, "How I wish I could have such a brother as yours." The man asked him what he meant, and he explained: "I'll tell you. My youngest brother had polio and he can't walk to see all the shops in town and enjoy the toys, at least by seeing them in the windows. How I wish I had a car like this to take him around. Our father died, and we won't get any presents this Christmas. But at least I can walk along the streets and enjoy the shop windows; my brother can't even do this. That's why I'd like to be a brother like your brother."

The word "pontiff," used to designate the highest religious order of the Roman Catholic Church, namely the Pope, has an interesting history. This was the name which, in the old pagan religion of ancient Rome, was given to the chief priests. The pontiffs were those who were invested with pontifical power. The name as it was first applied meant "the makers of bridges." Why it was used to designate a religious order we hardly know. Perhaps those old Roman pontiffs were specially employed in consecrating those mighty instruments of earthly peace and civilization, the great roads and bridges by which the old Romans tamed and subdued the world. But in a moral and spiritual sense we ought all to be makers of bridges. Pontiff or no pontiff, minister or no minister, every Christian who walks in his Master's steps ought to make it his special business to throw bridges across those moral rents and fissures which divide us one from the other. Across these various gulfs and chasms let every one lend a helping hand to build such bridges as best we can. There cannot be a more truly pontifical work.

A young man was on the border of nervous collapse as he lay on the operating table. Among the nurses, he noticed one watching him intently. He thought he knew her and called her to him. "Yes," she said, "We have met before." Then he whispered, "Would you mind holding my hand?" She gripped it and he lay calmly waiting for the operation. What a strong thing sentiment is! It can conquer a man's fears even in the face of life's most serious crises. In Honor Preferring One Another During a spelling contest in which the prize was a fine Bible, the contestants were finally reduced to two-Betty, the daughter of a poor, hard-working widow, and Susan, the daughter of a well-to-do farmer. The sympathy of the school was with the poor girl. Finally Susan misspelled a word, and Betty won the coveted prize. Going home, Susan's mother said to her daughter, "Couldn't you have spelled that word?" "Yes, Mother." "Then why didn't you do it?" "Well, you know Betty is quite poor, and she doesn't get many presents. She wanted the Bible very much, and she tried so hard for it that I thought I'd let her have it." "What made you do that, Susie?" "My Sunday school lesson, Mother, which said, 'in honor preferring one another.' So I thought I'd try it, and I'm glad I did." A few days later, Susan received as a birthday present a beautiful Bible, and on the flyleaf was written the text, "In honor preferring one another" (Romans 12:10).

During one of Mr. McKinley's congressional campaigns he was followed from place to place by a reporter for a paper of the opposite political party. The reporter was one of those shrewd, persistent fellows who are always at work, quick to see an opportunity, and skilled in making the most of it. While Mr. McKinley was annoyed by the misrepresentation to which he was almost daily subjected, he could not help admiring the skill and tenacity with which he was assailed. His admiration, too, was not unmixed with compassion-the reporter was ill, poorly clad, and had an annoying cough. One night Mr. McKinley took a closed carriage to a nearby town at which it had been announced he would speak. The weather was wretchedly raw and cold. He had not gone far when he heard that cough and knew that the reporter was riding with the driver in the exposed seat. McKinley called to the driver to stop so he could get out. "Get down off that seat, young man," he said. The reporter obeyed, thinking the time for the major's vengeance had come. "Here," said Mr. McKinley, taking off his overcoat, "You put on this overcoat and get into the carriage." "But Major McKinley," said the reporter, "I guess you don't know who I am. I have been with you the whole campaign, giving it to you every time you spoke, and I am going over tonight to rip you to pieces if I can." "I know," said Mr. McKinley, "but you put on this coat, and get inside and get warm, so that you can do a good job."

Drop a pebble in the water And its ripples reach out far; And the sunbeam dancing on them May reflect them to a star. Give a smile to someone passing Thereby making his morning glad; It may greet you in the evening When your own heart may be sad. Do a simple deed of kindness; Though its end you may not see, It may reach like widening ripples, Down a long eternity.

"As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all" (Galatians 6:10). "Auntie, you are putting some of your choicest rose bushes away in the backyard!" "Yes," answered Auntie, "and I am going to put some geraniums and pinks and other lovely flowers which will bloom all summer out there, too. I know they seem to be out of sight, but there is a woman who sits and sews day after day, week in and week out, at the upstairs windows in the dingy house opposite, and I'm fixing that corner for her."

Little things make a better day: Being grateful for another morning by being cheerful on the outside even though you might be in physical pain on the inside. Writing a little note of encouragement, congratulations, appreciation, sympathy or condolence to someone needing a little uplift. A visit to a sick friend-but don't stay too long. A telephone call to a lonesome friend. Give a gift to someone. Have a kind and warm greeting for a little child or an elderly person. Stop and enjoy the flowers. Get some little thing done that you have been putting off. Admit a mistake to yourself and resolve not to make it again. Show kindness to animals. Move close to your family. Explore the satisfaction of courtesy. Be able to go to sleep at the end of the day with the feeling that you have been a more considerate person today than you were yesterday. All these add to the sweetness and smoothness of life. They bring us to pleasant communion with others, nurture friendships, and prevent the interference of those petty sophistications and elaborate etiquettes that keep us apart from others. Though small, they create a beneficent radiation which enriches us and contributes to our own ennoblement. They enhance a tender inclination for the pleasantness that comes with the satisfaction of having done good. They strengthen the soul. They make a good day because they make us better persons. A Love Thing A Christmas candle is a love thing; It makes no noise at all, But softly gives itself away; While quite unselfish, it grows small.

What is all this touching in church? It used to be a person could come to church and sit in the pew and not be bothered by all this friendliness and certainly not by touching. I used to come to church and leave untouched. Now I have to be nervous about what is expected of me. I have to worry about responding to the person sitting next to me. Oh, I wish it could be the way it used to be; I could just ask the person next to me, "How are you?" And the person could answer, "Oh, just fine." And we would both go home...strangers who have known each other for 20 years. But now the minister asks us to look at each other. I am worried about that hurt look I saw in that woman's eyes. Now I am upset because the lady next to me cried and then apologized and said it was because I was so kind and that she needed a friend right now. Now I have to get involved. Now I have to suffer when this community suffers. Now I have to be more than a person coming to observe a service. That man last week told me I had never known how much I had touched his life. All I did was smile and tell him I understood what it was to be lonely. Lord, I am not big enough to touch and be touched. The stretching scares me. What if I disappoint somebody? What if I am too pushy? What if I cling too much? What if somebody ignores me? O Lord, be here beside me. You touch me, Lord, so that I can touch and be touched. So that I can care and be cared for. So that I can share my life with all those others that belong to you. All this touching in church, Lord, it is changing me!

On one occasion a prime minister of France summoned an eminent surgeon to perform a very serious operation upon him. "You must not expect to treat me in the same rough manner that you treat the poor miserable wretches at your hospital," said the prime minister. "Sir," replied the surgeon with great dignity, "every one of those miserable wretches, as you are pleased to call them, is a prime minister in my eyes." How important it is for us to realize that the soul of a rich, famous, or highly educated person is not more precious in the sight of God than that of an ignorant beggar. We are all God's field. There isn't a soul on earth to whom we ought to give nothing but our best in cultivating it and making it what God originally meant it to be. Let us look upon the whole of humanity as God's own field deserving our best service.

"'Though we cannot love their weaknesses, yet we must love the weak, and bear with their infirmities, not breaking the bruised reed. Infants must not be turned out of the family because they cry, and are unquiet and troublesome; though they be peevish and froward, yet we must bear it with gentleness and patience, as we do the frowardness of the sick; if they revile we must not revile again, but must seek gently to restore them, notwithstanding all their censures." This patience is far too rare. We do not make allowances enough for our fellows, but sweepingly

condemn those whom we ought to cheer with our sympathy. If we are out of temper ourselves, we plead the weather, or a headache, or our natural temperament, or aggravating circumstances; we are never at a loss for an excuse for ourselves, why should not the same ingenuity be used by our charity in inventing apologies and extenuations for others? It is a pity to carry on the trade of apology-making entirely for home consumption; let us supply others. True, they are very provoking, but if we suffered half as much as some of our irritable friends have to endure we should be even more aggravating. Think in many cases of their ignorance, their unfortunate bringing up, their poverty, their depression of spirit, and their home surroundings, and pity will come to the help of patience. We are tender to a man who has a gouty toe, cannot we extend the feeling to those who have an irritable soul? Our Lord will be angry with us if we are harsh to his little ones whom he loves; nor will he be pleased if we are unkind to his poor afflicted children with whom he would have us be doubly tender. We ourselves need from him ten times more consideration than we show to our brethren. For HIS sake we ought to be vastly more forbearing than we are. Think how patient HE has been to us, and let our hard-heartedness be confessed as no light sin.

A certain man was going from Norwich to New London with a heavy loaded team. On attempting to ascend a hill where an Indian lived, he found that his team could not draw the load up: so he went and asked the Indian to help him with his oxen. After the load was up, he inquired of the Indian how much he was to pay him. "Do as much for somebody else," replied the Indian. Some time afterward, an Indian wanted a canoe. He went up the Shetucket River, and found a tree, and made him one; but, when he got it done, he could not get it into the river: so he went to a man, and offered all the money he had if he would draw his canoe to the water for him. The man willingly did so; and, after the canoe was got to the river, the Indian offered his pay. "No!" said the man. "Don't you recollect having once helped a man draw his load up the hill by your house?"—"Yes."—"Well, I am the man: so take your canoe and go home."

At the time of the destruction of the man-of-war, "Prince George," by fire, off Lisbon, by which four hundred and eighty-five persons perished, the fishermen and merchantmen, of which there were many around the burning ship, instead of rescuing their drowning fellow-creatures, busied themselves in picking up fawls, and whatever else floated to them from the wreck, except the drowning sailors.

It is related of George Herbert, that, once in a walk to Salisbury to join a musical party, he saw a poor man, and a poorer horse that had fallen under the load. Mr. Herbert put off his canonical coat, and helped the poor man unload his horse. The poor man blessed him for it, and he blessed the poor man. Coming to his musical friends at Salisbury, they began to wonder that he who used to be so trim and clean came into that company so soiled. But he told them the occasion; and, when one of the company told him he had disparaged himself by such dirty employment, his answer was, that he thought what he had done would prove music to him at midnight; and that the omission of it would have upbraided and made discord in his conscience whensoever he should pass by that place.

There is a story of a man living on the borders of an African desert, who carried daily a pitcher of cold water to the dusty thoroughfare, and left it for any thirsty traveller that might pass that way.

It is related that a disciple of Mohammed came to him one day, and said, "O prophet! my mother is dead: what is the best alms I can bestow for her good?" The prophet replied, "Water. Dig a well for her, and give water to the thirsty." The man did so, and said, "This well is for my mother."

As there is no one part of our body hurt, but every other member feels it; so ought we to have compassion upon any that are in trouble, or sorrow of any kind, and to make our neighbors' business our own.

The cobbler could not paint the picture; but he could tell Apelles that the shoe-latchet was not quite right; and the painter thought it well to take his hint. Two neighbors, one blind and the other lame, were called to a place at a great distance. What was to be done? The blind man could not see, and the lame man could not walk. Why, the blind man carried the lame one; this former assisted by his legs, the other by his eyes. Say to no one, then, "I can do without you," but be ready to help those who ask your aid; and then, when it is needed, you may ask theirs. Smith.

When I was a small boy, there was a black boy in the neighborhood, by the name of Jim Dick. A number of us, one evening, began tormenting the poor black by calling him "negro, black-amoor," and other degrading epithets. The poor fellow appeared excessively grieved at our conduct, and soon left us. We soon afterwards made an appointment to go a-skating: and, on the day of the appointment, I had the misfortune to break my skates, and I could not go without borrowing Jim's skates. I went to him, and asked him for them. "Oh, yes, Robert! you may have them, and welcome," was his answer. When I went to return them, I found Jim sitting by the fire in the kitchen, reading the Bible. I told him I had returned the skates, and was under great obligations to him for his kindness. He looked at me as he took his skates, and, with tears in his eyes, said to me, "Robert, don't ever call me black-amoor again," and immediately left the room. The words pierced my heart; and I burst into tears, and from that time resolved never again to abuse a poor black. Southey.

A little girl and her little brother were on their way to the grocer's one cold morning. They were both poorly clad; but the little girl had a coat over her, which she seemed to have outgrown. As they were walking along, she drew her little companion close up to her, saying, "Come under my coat, Johnny."—"It isn't big enough for both," was his reply. "I guess I can stretch it a little," she said. And they got as close together, and as warm as two birds in the nest.

We read in the legendary history of St. Jerome, that one evening, as he sat within the gates of his monastery at Bethlehem, a lion entered, limping, as in pain: and all the brethren, when they saw the lion, fled in terror; but Jerome arose, and went forward to meet him as though he had been a guest. And the lion lifted up his paw; and St. Jerome, on examining it, found that it was wounded by a thorn, which he extracted; and he tended the lion till he was healed. The grateful beast remained with his benefactor, and Jerome confided to him the task of guarding an ass which was employed in bringing firewood from the forest. On one occasion, the lion, having gone to sleep while the ass was at pasture, some merchants, passing by, carried away the latter; and the lion, after searching for him in vain, returned to the monastery with drooping head, as one ashamed. St. Jerome, believing that he had devoured his companion, commanded that the daily task of the ass should be laid upon the lion, and that the fagots should be bound on his back, to which he magnanimously submitted, until the ass was recovered; which was in this wise: One day the lion, having finished his task, ran hither and thither, still seeking his companion: and he saw a caravan of merchants approaching, and a string of camels, which, according to the Arabian custom, were led by an ass. And, when the lion recognized his friend, he drove the camels into the convent, and so terrified the merchants, that they confessed the theft, and received pardon from St. Jerome.

— Mrs. Jameson

A wicked boy once stole all the grapes he could find on the vine of a lady who lived near his mother. The lady's daughter suspected the thief, and was very angry. Her mother said, "Don't indulge your anger, my dear, but carry the few bunches the little thief left, with some other needful articles of food, to his sick mother." This advice was followed. When the boy witnessed the kindness to his mother, his heart smote him. He was overwhelmed with shame, he confessed his theft, he offered her the money for which he had sold the fruit, and declared he would never steal again. The young lady declined taking the money, but advised him to go to the Sunday school, and put it in the missionary box. The boy became a member of the Sunday school, was converted, and grew up to be an active Christian man.

— Teacher's Journal

When the country was newly settled, an Indian came to the inn at Litchfield, and asked for a night's shelter, saying he had nothing to pay. The hostess drove him away; but, as the Indian was retiring sorrowfully, a man who was sitting by directed the hostess to supply his wants, and promised to pay her. As soon as his supper was ended, the Indian thanked his benefactor, and said he would some day repay him. Several years, after the settler was taken prisoner by a hostile tribe, and carried off to Canada. One day, an Indian came to the white man, and, giving him a musket, bade him follow him. The Indian never told where they were going, nor what was his object; but, day after day, the captive followed his mysterious guide, till one afternoon they came suddenly on a beautiful expanse of cultivated fields, with many houses rising among them. "Do you know that place?" asked the Indian. "Ah, yes! it is Litchfield."—"And I," the Indian exclaimed, "am the starving Indian on whom, at this very place, you took pity. And, now I have paid for my supper, I pray you go home."

A lawyer visited a hospital, and conversed with one of the most degraded and ignorant specimens of mankind to be found anywhere. As he spoke kindly to the man, he drew the bed-clothes over his head, and sobbed convulsively. As soon as he could speak, he said to the lawyer, "Sir, you are the first man that ever spoke a kind word to me since I was born; and I can't stand it."

Life affords but few opportunities of doing great services for others; but there is scarcely an hour of the day that does not afford us an opportunity of performing some little, it may be unnoticed kindness. Bowes.

Good words do more than hard speeches, as the sunbeams, without any noise, will make the traveller cast off his cloak; which all the blustering winds could not do, but only make him bind it closer to him. Leighton.