ECCLESIOLOGICAL ETCHINGS
October 27, 2022
“When was the last time your heart was broken?” That was a question I remember a youth minister asking when I was a youth. He then added something like, “I’m not talking about that special someone you were dating or wanting to date, but a situation outside of your romantic desires that truly broke your heart.” I’m guessing, at least for many of you, answering the question is not challenging. In fact, you probably have multiple categories of things that break your heart. There are things close to you and things you only observe on the news. There are some things you only see as you drive by, and others you walk with every day. The Greek word in the New Testament that we translate as compassion or pity is splagchnizomai, and it is one of my favorite words. Yes, it could be translated as pity or compassion, but the literal Greek is to be moved in one’s entrails. The center of emotion in the ancient world was, not the heart, but the intestines. We might speak of a broken heart, but where do you usually feel it. You see someone’s pain, or you know the hurt of a good friend, and it feels like a punch in the gut. Not only does that language convey the experience most of us know in those moments, it compels us to do something. Pity is a real emotion, but it sort of feels passive. Even compassion leaves me thinking of someone sending a teardrop emoji, but nothing more. For those who seek to emulate Jesus, splagchnizomai is sort of important—a feeling as if something is gnawing on your entrails until you do something about it.
Let me have a heart or intestine, O God, willing to feel the hurt and suffering of others. May it be felt deep within my inner being so as to be compelled to do something real and Jesus-like. Amen.
