THE COMPASSION OF THE LORD

How does rejection make you feel? None of us enjoys it, certainly. For most of us, rejection is painful, even excruciating. It is so excruciating, in fact, that many of us make avoiding rejection one of the chief goals of our lives. We loathe it, and we fear it.

When we are rejected, what do we need? And what do we need to overcome our fear of rejection? A little compassion goes a long way. Jesus somehow seemed to find those whom society had rejected —sinners, tax collectors, prostitutes, lepers, the unclean. He felt for them. He embraced them. He was compassionate toward them. Because of his compassion, they were changed. Jesus was feeling and acting in accordance with what had already been revealed about the Lord in passages such as Isaiah 54:6-10. In this passage, we find that the compassion of the Lord is beyond compare.

Is the first five verses of Isaiah 54, the Lord spoke to Jerusalem as a husband speaking to a wife. The husband-wife imagery continues in verses 6 through 10. Covenant language, which was invoked in the previous section, also continues. The marriage metaphor is covenant language. The Servant of the Lord (Isaiah 52:13-53:12), who is Jesus Christ, effects a new covenant. In Isaiah 54:6-10, we see that it is a covenant of compassion.

The Lord in verse 5 identified himself as Jerusalem’s husband. In verse 4 he referred to the reproach of Jerusalem’s widowhood. The Lord didn’t die, of course, but Jerusalem, representative of the nation of Israel, feels forsaken by the Lord when she goes into exile. Verse 6 begins with the word "for," offering an explanation for what it means for Israel to have the Lord as her husband.

Speaking to Jerusalem, the Lord says he has "called" her. This calling comes to her as to a wife "forsaken and grieved in spirit, even like a wife of one’s youth when she is rejected." The exile is for discipline, not divorce (Isaiah 50:1-3). The Lord is still Jerusalem’s husband. And now, in her forsaken, grief-stricken condition, the Lord calls to her. The period of separation for the purpose of discipline is over, and now the Lord wants her back. Not only does the Lord want her back, the Lord has a great purpose for her. When the Lord calls someone, he calls him or her to something. He has a purpose. Think of what this calling must have meant to the people in their grief.

Today, followers of Jesus constitute the Jerusalem to whom the Lord is speaking. The long exile that each of us endured is the period before we became followers of Jesus. For those who are still in this exile, the Lord is calling to you, inviting you to be reconciled to him. For those of us who have answered the call and become part of the Lord’s Jerusalem, there are times when we feel forsaken and are thereby grieved in spirit. Sometimes we are forsaken by friends. Sometimes we are rejected by someone we hoped would be a friend. Sometimes, perhaps because of sin, we feel forsaken by God himself.

Is there any sense in which you feel forsaken or rejected today, either by friends, would-be friends or God? Are you grieved in spirit over this loss? In your grief, are you wondering if there’s any kind of good purpose you can fulfill? The Lord is speaking to you. He is calling you! He wants to be close to you, and he has a purpose for you. If sin has caused your grief, Jesus says to you, "Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted" (Matthew 5:4).

If you have ever felt the sting of rejection and had your spirits lifted by a phone call from someone who cared, you know something of what it’s like to be called by the Lord.

What motives the Lord to call us in our forsaken state? In the next section, we see that it’s his compassion.

In verses 7 and 8, the Lord twice tells Jerusalem what he has done and what he will do. Then in verse 9, he explains his actions by way of an illustration from humanity’s past.

The exile is characterized as a time in which Israel was forsaken by the Lord. For the purposes of discipline and reformation, the Lord handed over his people to Babylon. The exile is for "a brief moment." That’s what happened. What will happen? The Lord will "gather" Jerusalem, bringing her back to her land and bringing her back to himself. This action will be motivated by the Lord’s "great compassion." The brevity of the exile is contrasted with the greatness of the Lord’s compassion. Compassion speaks of the Lord’s deep, merciful, tender love.

In verse 8 the Lord characterizes the exile as a time in which he hid his face from Israel. Identical imagery in Isaiah 59:2, and the context there, indicates that when the Lord hides his face, he distances himself from his people because of their sins and becomes unresponsive to their unrepentant prayers. The Lord hid his face in an "outburst" of anger—again, just for a "moment." The hiding of the Lord’s face is contrasted with his compassion. The brief outburst of anger is contrasted with "everlasting lovingkindness." The word translated "lovingkindness" is a covenant word. It concerns the Lord’s faithfulness to his covenant with Israel, his loyal love. Here, in contrast to the brevity of the Lord’s anger, he says his love is everlasting.

What’s interesting to note in verses 7 and 8 is the way the word "compassion" is used:

A "brief moment" of forsaking is contrasted not with any reference to time but with "great compassion." The hiding of the Lord’s face is contrasted not with any action but with the verb translated "have compassion." The grammar, then, serves to focus on this word "compassion." In verse 7, the Lord’s compassion is beyond comparison to time. In verse 8, the Lord’s compassion is beyond comparison to any action. Where you expect a reference to time, you get something that seems more like a feeling. Where you expect a reference to action, again, you get something that seems more like a feeling. In both cases, you get compassion. The focus is not so much on how long compassion lasts (though it lasts forever) or what compassion does (though it gathers) but on compassion itself. This paints an expansive picture of God’s compassion. It is a compassion that knows no limits. It is not bound by time in which it is expressed. It is not bound by the actions in which it is expressed. It is bigger than time; bigger than actions. Yet it is not wishy-washy. It enters time and takes action in the best interests of his people. It is rooted in the Lord’s prior commitment to the covenant, in his loyal love. It "gathers." It’s a feeling, and it’s an action.

The Lord speaks to Jerusalem in verses 7 and 8 as her redeemer. He redeemed Israel from Egypt. He will redeem Israel from Babylon. In each case, the Lord pays the price to ransom Israel. In the first case, it was the first-born of Egypt. In the second case, it is the first-born of God, Jesus Christ, whose death brings about the true return from exile. This is costly compassion.

By way of explaining the temporary nature of his anger, the Lord invokes "the days of Noah." In the flood, the earth experienced the judgment of God, just as Israel will experience the judgment of God in exile. God’s purposes in the flood were accomplished, just as his purposes in the exile will be accomplished. In each case—the flood and the exile—God’s anger was temporary, not permanent. The flood and the exile represented an interruption in God’s covenant, not a dissolution of it. In the exile, justice will be satisfied, and the Lord will never again be angry with Jerusalem, nor will he rebuke her as an expression of his anger.

How, precisely, was God’s justice satisfied in the exile? It was satisfied in the death of his Son, Jesus Christ. Jesus, representing Israel as the Messiah, went into exile for Israel, and for all humanity. Jesus was like the wife forsaken and grieved in spirit. When he went to Gethsemane to pray, he told his disciples that he was "deeply grieved to the point of death" (Mark 14:34). When he went to the cross, he cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me" (Mark 15:34). On the cross, he was exiled from God, accepting God’s judgment for Israel’s sins, and for humanity’s.

In verse 9, the pronoun "you" is again a reference to Jerusalem. The Lord will not be angry with Jerusalem, nor will he rebuke her. Yet Jesus pronounced God’s judgment on Jerusalem and predicted its destruction. In 70 A.D., Rome sacked Jerusalem and destroyed the temple. In Isaiah, then, the Lord must be talking about a different Jerusalem. It’s the Jerusalem that is "above" (Galatians 4:26); it’s the "heavenly Jerusalem" (Hebrews 12:22). It’s the city of God populated by God’s people, followers of Jesus. This covenant renewal, brought about by the death of Christ, will never be interrupted and will last forever (Hebrews 8:9, 12).

This word from God, then, is to those who follow Jesus. The Lord promises that he will not be angry with you, that he will not rebuke you. This means that there will be no more interruptions in the Lord’s covenant commitment to us, who constitute the heavenly Jerusalem. In Christ, the covenant has been renewed to such an extent that it’s called a new covenant (2 Corinthians 3:6).

In this section, we see the greatness and endurance of the Lord’s compassion—the Lord’s compassion for us. If we feel that he has forsaken us, that he is angry with us, that he has hidden is face from us, it’s imaginary. If it seems as if the Lord has sent us into exile, it just seems that way. We’ll have to work through those feelings and fight to see the Lord as he is—the Lord in his compassion. And if we fail to see him as he is, and we feel as if he’s angry, we will feel that way just for a moment. At the latest, these false feelings will evaporate when Christ returns and we "see him just as he is" (1 John 3:2).

However forsaken you feel, it is nothing in comparison to God’s compassion for you—his deep, tender, merciful love. His limitless compassion for you is beyond compare. He feels for us in a way that is so enormous that that our hearts, in their current state, would break if we were to understand it. Although his compassion is beyond comparison to time and beyond comparison to the actions that he takes, he enters time (your time!) and he takes action (for you!). He does so in your best interests, based on his prior commitment to you, his loyal love. That’s why he doesn’t always seem compassionate to you. True compassion, based on true knowledge, takes action based on what one truly needs, not what one thinks one needs. We might want a compassionate friend to wallow with us in our grief. The Lord loves us to much to let us wallow for long. He feels deeply for what we’re going through but cares enough to set us on our feet, sometimes before we think we’re ready. Sometimes, we just need someone who feels what we feel. The Lord is that one. But we also need someone who will act in our best interest. The Lord is that one as well.

Principally, from the perspective of this passage, the Lord in his compassion "gathers" us. What does it mean to be gathered? In Isaiah, it meant that the Lord would gather the people to Jerusalem from the places where he had scattered them. This gathering would extend beyond the Israelites to embrace the Gentiles as well (Isaiah 56:6-8). For us, it means to be gathered by the Lord to himself along with others.

God’s compassion to gather us, as citizens of Jerusalem, is demonstrated and brought about by Jesus. At one point his compassion for unrepentant caused him to weep over it (Luke 19:41). He lamented, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those sent to her! How Often I wanted to gather your children together, just as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not have it!" (Luke 13:34). Jesus wanted to protect Jerusalem from the judgment to come, gathering her children under his wings, so that he would be killed and they would survive. Indeed, he was killed, but most of those he wanted to protect didn’t survive—either in the temporal or the eternal sense—because they rejected Jesus’ offer. They despised God’s compassion.

Will you let Jesus gather you today? Will you let him protect you? Will you let him hold you? Will you allow yourself to believe in his compassion for you, to feel his compassion for you? He, who has already protected you from God’s wrath, will hold you close to himself and protect you from everything that would harm you. He says that though you will be hated, "not a hair of your head will perish" (Luke 21:18). Temporally, you may be killed; eternally, you won’t be hurt.

There is also a communal aspect to this gathering. We need to allow Jesus to gather us in a community. The problem with many of us is we have a resistance to being gathered. We don’t want to commit to a community or be part of a community unless it meets all our needs, as we understand them, perfectly. If we have not settled on a community, we need to be asking ourselves, to what worshipping community is Jesus gathering me? So many don’t ask that question. They simply shop and flit and float and leave when something goes a little bit awry. We also need to understand another thing. What motivates Jesus to gather us in a community? It’s his compassion—his deep, tender, merciful love. He feels deep in his being our desperate need to be connected to a worshipping community. When we refuse to be gathered, he weeps over us as he wept over Jerusalem.

Mark tells us what Jesus did when a leper, the ultimate outcast, asked Jesus if he was willing to help him: "And moved with compassion, he stretched out his hand, and touched him, and said to him, ‘I am willing; be cleansed’" (Mark 1:41). When Jesus looks at you, he is moved with compassion, and he not only touches you, he gathers you.

How long is the Lord’s compassion going to last? In the last verse in the stanza, we find out that it lasts forever.

The Lord now uses another illustration, this time invoking creation, to convey the permanency of his new covenant. Nothing would have been considered more stable than the mountains and hills. In presenting the possibility of the removal of mountains and the shaking of hills, the Lord is saying that nothing is more stable than his covenant with his people. The mountains, may be removed, but his lovingkindness, his loyal, covenant love, will remain. The hills may shake, but his covenant, defined here as a covenant of peace, will remain. In that it is a covenant of peace, the new covenant brings about peace with God and human well-being based on relationship with God. His loyal love is unremoveable and his covenant of peace is unshakable. In making this promise, God identifies himself this time as "the Lord who has compassion on you." It’s a covenant of compassion.

What we want most is love. If we ever get it, we’re afraid we’re going to lose it. We obsess over getting love, and then once we have it, we obsess over losing it. We manipulate to get it, and we manipulate to keep it. We become hypervigilant to protect against any invasion that might take love from us. Yet the love we need most, God’s love, we already have, and it will never be taken from us. The Lord promises that under no circumstances will his loyal love be removed from us.

We not only want love, we want peace. If we ever arrive at some peaceful state, we become watchful to make sure that nothing disturbs the peace. In becoming watchful, we lose the peaceful feeling. We become restless in our efforts to preserve the peace! Some of us, in our efforts to find peace, have settled for a sedentary, risk-free life that guards against any involvement that seems threatening. Of course, we probably have peace wrongly defined as some kind of feeling of tranquility. The biblical concept of peace has to do with intimacy with God and the well-being that he brings about. Intimacy with God comes about through involvement that challenges us and that, at times, disappoints us and shatters our sense of tranquility. True peace, then, is a dynamic thing that at times doesn’t feel like peace at all. In his covenant, the Lord is committed to our peace—to our intimacy with him and our well-being that derives from intimacy with him. And that commitment will under no circumstances be shaken.

The love God gives us won’t be removed, and the peace he gives us won’t be shaken. Believing these promises gives us stability in a world in which everything, it seems, can be removed and shaken.

This arrangement that God has made with us is a permanent one. His love for us lasts forever. There’s a difference between a dating relationship and a marriage relationship. In dating, there’s no guarantee that the one who seems so interested now will always be interested. There’s no guarantee that the relationship is a permanent one. If one person believes that he or she has met "the one" before "the one" thinks the same thing about that person, the person with the greater interest is liable to feel insecure. There is no reason to feel insecure in our relationship with the Lord. Why? Because he isn’t dating. The Lord is married to us. He has made a commitment to love us, to be faithful to us, to be compassionate toward us forever.

Listen to the call of the Lord. Let Jesus gather you. Know that he’ll hold you close to his heart forever. Open the door of your heart to the compassion of the Lord.

Scripture quotations are taken from the NEW AMERICAN STANDARD BIBLE ("NASB"). © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. Where indicated, Scripture quotations were also taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION ("NIV"). © 1973, 1978, 1984 International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Bible Publishers.

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