The evangelists occasionally highlight the emotions of Jesus, and in this morning’s gospel reading, Matthew tells us that when Jesus saw the crowds, he was filled with compassion for them. He saw that they were harassed and dejected, like sheep without a shepherd. Compassion is a profound emotion, one that involves identifying deeply with the struggles of others and being moved to act on their behalf. In this passage, Jesus’ compassion manifests in two significant ways. First, he instructs his disciples to pray. Secondly, Jesus takes action himself by giving his twelve disciples authority over unclean spirits. He sends them on a mission to heal.
So where do we find ourselves in this gospel story? At times, we may feel like the harassed and dejected crowd, overwhelmed and in need of guidance. If that is the case, this gospel assures us that the Lord sees our struggles and draws near to us in compassion, often through the people he sends into our lives as labourers. At other times, we may sense that we are being called to be among those labourers, sent into the harvest to walk alongside others in their difficulties and help them heal. If so, the gospel offers us the reassurance that the Lord not only calls but also equips us for the mission he entrusts to us. Whether we are receiving or giving compassion, the Lord’s presence is always with us.
The artist Käthe Kollwitz, in her poignant 1900 print The Downtrodden, powerfully illustrates the essence of compassion. Known for her unflinching depictions of human suffering, Kollwitz never shied away from portraying the harshest realities of life. Through her paintings and lithographs, she captured the sudden misfortunes and enduring struggles that life imposes, especially on the vulnerable and oppressed. Kollwitz once declared, “I agree with my art serving a purpose,” and that purpose was clear in her early works: to expose the grim realities of life in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. In The Downtrodden, Kollwitz employs stark contrasts of light and shadow to evoke a raw, harsh scene.
At the heart of the print is a woman, bowed down by the weight of her despair. Her posture is slumped, and her head is lowered, symbolising exhaustion and resignation. A young child clings to her mother, emphasising dependence and vulnerability. To the side, slightly behind, there is a man, possibly the husband, with a similarly burdened posture. He appears equally defeated, holding what looks like a rosary, his presence reinforcing the shared nature of hardship among families. His role symbolises the working-class struggle, as Kollwitz often drew attention to the exploitation of labourers during this period. Three figure that need compassion and help.
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