The Humiliation of Compassion, by Erika VanHaitsma

Dannah Gresh: Erika VanHaitsma gently challenges you with an important question.

Erika VanHaitsma: When was the last time you came face to face with your Father’s compassionate, unconditional love? When was the last time you were undone by the mercy and grace you have been shown? 

Dannah: This is the Revive Our Hearts podcast for July 2, 2024. I’m Dannah Gresh with Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth, author of Brokenness: The Heart God Revives. 

Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth: Did you know that humility is a quality that goes hand in hand with compassion? Think about it. What are the chances that proud people—who are consumed with themselves—are going to be quick to reach out to others with kindness?

Well, that’s what Erika VanHaitsma is going to talk about today. Erika is married to Bryan VanHaitsma, who directs our digital media team here at Revive Our Hearts. Erika and Bryan have five children, so her hands are full, as you can imagine! But Erika took a few days to be part of the Revive Our Hearts Sisters in Ministry Summit.

That was a gathering of a few dozen women who are all involved in ministering to women in various ways. Erika is going to give us some insight about the connection between humility and compassion as she takes us to Luke chapter 15.

We’re continuing in the series “A Lifestyle of Compassion.” If you missed yesterday’s episode with Kelly Needham, you can catch that on the Revive Our Hearts app or at ReviveOurHearts.com.

Erika: Have you ever thought what it would be like to be the Christmas donkey? Now, I never did, until one fateful day. I homeschool my children. When my precious firstborn was in kindergarten, her last assignment for the day was to pick someone in a well-known story and place herself in that person’s shoes.

How would she feel if she was the fairy godmother in Cinderella or David in David and Goliath? And then she’d have to talk about how she would feel and how she’d react. Well, it was the end of a long day, she was tired and done, and she did not want to finish school! But I wanted to check off that last box and get my school done for the day! 

So, it became a battle of the wills . . . until she gave in (so I thought!). Here’s how the conversation went: 

Rina: (huffing): “Fine! (She’s like four or five.) I want to be the donkey!” 

Now it was Christmastime, so I at least had an idea of what donkey she was talking about. 

Me: You mean the donkey that carried Mary to Bethlehem? 

Rina: (huffing) Yes!

Me: Oka-a-y, what are you thinking? How are you feeling as the donkey?

Rina: (deep sigh) I’m thinking, I’m done! I have been walking all day with this woman on my back, and I want to stop! She can go on Joseph’s back! In fact, Joseph can carry me and Mary all the way to Bethlehem. I’m never doing this again! So there, Momma!

Erika: Now, I honestly don’t think Mary rode a donkey to Bethlehem. I don’t think that’s true, but most of the children’s stories include it, so I can appreciate where my daughter was coming from. And if Mary had ridden a donkey, that could have been what it was feeling and thinking. It gives a new perspective to the Christmas story, doesn’t it?

Isn’t it amazing how by changing our perspective, we can actually take an old story and make it feel brand new, simply by shifting the way we look at it? Think of the musical Wicked versus the story The Wizard of Oz. They feel like almost two completely different stories!

There is a well-known parable in the gospels that we often look at from one perspective. But today, I want to take that perspective and shift it. I want us to look at it as if we lived in first century Israel. How would Jesus’ listeners have heard this parable? What might they have been thinking?

As we go through this parable, I want you to ask yourself, “Who is the main character?” And, “What does he continue to show?” 

We’re going to be looking at Luke 15, verses 1 and 2 that tell us that Jesus, this famous rabbi, this amazing teacher in Israel, is sitting with tax collectors and sinners—collaborators with hateful Rome—the down and outers, the lowest of the low—alcoholics, prostitutes—people who have turned their back on God and His commands. And . . . the Pharisees are upset! 

Now, I have to say a word for the Pharisees: outside of Scripture, in other Jewish writings, the Pharisees are the good guys, and for honest reasons. They’re not all the hypocritical self-righteous people we like to characterize them as. There are good Pharisees; there are bad Pharisees. But there are good Pharisees, and we see this in Scripture. And the fact that this group of Pharisees are upset with Jesus actually shows how they view Him.

“Jesus, You’re too good to be sitting with these people! Jesus, You belong with us! Why are you wasting your time on them?” 

Think of Michael Jordan. If he went to a small school and then played a game of hoops with the drug addicts while the basketball team sat on the sidelines and watched, how would the basketball team feel? How would they respond?

That’s what’s going on here, to the Pharisees. “Jesus, You’re one of us. You belong with us.” So in response to their grumbling and complaining, Jesus tells three parables. The first two parables show somebody losing something: a woman with a coin, a shepherd with a sheep. They search high and low until they find it, and then they throw themselves a party!

Now we get to the third parable, and in verse 11 we read, “There was a man who had two sons.” There are three people in this parable, and all three are important to this parable, but one of them is the center.

We’re told next that the youngest son comes to his father and says, “I want my inheritance!” (see v. 12). Essentially, in that culture, he’s telling his dad to “drop dead”! And he means it. How would you feel if your child came to you and said, “Drop dead!” You would be heartbroken!

This heartbroken father has several options. He could kick his son out of his home. He could punish his son but leave him as a part of the family. But this father goes with a third option. He humbles himself to give both his sons their inheritance.

Well, this young fool isn’t done. He cuts himself off from his family and his community by liquidating his assets quickly . . . and therefore cheaply. He removes wealth from his home, from his village, from his family and friends, and then he takes it and he wastes it on strangers.

Well, no surprise, eventually he runs out of money and he needs a job. But that’s not going to be too easy. We’re told in verse 14 a severe famine arrives. We don’t really appreciate famines in our culture. We have so much food; we throw it away! We put ourselves on diets and restrictions.

But a famine back then meant death! There are horrific stories of parents eating their own children, of whole families being wiped out, people eating leather, finding straw in the streets and boiling it and eating the broth just to survive! Famine meant death.

This boy is desperate, and he has no choice. He has to completely humiliate himself. And in Luke 15:15 we read: 

He went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed pigs. 

Archeologists will tell you one way they know the ruins of a Gentile village versus the ruins of a Jewish village: the Jewish village never has pig bones. They are unkosher; they are unclean—the bottom of the barrel. They will have nothing to do with pigs! And now, this Jewish boy has to feed pigs to survive. He can’t get any lower; he has sunk as low as he can get.

But finally it becomes a matter of life and death. This fool is starving. He needs to get food. And in verses 17–19 we read: 

But when he came to himself, he said, “How many of my father's hired servants have more than enough bread, but I [am perishing] with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. [Just] Treat me as one of your hired servants.’’’

There’s no remorse in this prayer. His main thought is of his stomach, of food. He’s not thinking of the heartbroken father back home. He wants to survive. “Treat me as one of your hired servants.” He still wants to make money independent of Daddy. 

His father still could kick him out when he comes home, his father still could punish him. He has no clue what to expect, but he knows it’s a matter of life and death. “I’ve got nothin’ to lose; I might as well head home.”

But remember, this boy has been through a famine . . . and fed pigs. I’ve been on a pig farm. It reeks! They can reek. So his one set of clothing would look horrible and smell worse! He’s dirty, gaunt, weak with hunger. His feet would be dirty, if not bruised and bloodied. He is walking home absolutely humiliated.

He is waiting for his village—where he burned every bridge—to rise up to mock him and taunt him mercilessly. You can picture him, can’t you, walking home one foot in front of the other, head down, just waiting for those taunts to begin.

But then he hears something, and he looks up . . . and his eyes get so big! His jaw drops open. We read in verse 20, Jesus states: 

But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him.

And here we miss something that is absolutely beautiful in the story! Elderly men in the Middle East did not run! The world waited for them. And this is not just any word for “run,” this is the word for “raced.” So you have an older man who is racing down the street to get to his boy!

But remember what he’s wearing: a long tunic. How easy is it to race in a dress . . . unless you hike it up over your knees? Jesus’ listeners were probably laughing at the picture Jesus is creating. They had never seen anything like this! An elderly man racing down the street with his tunic hiked up over his knees!

He would look absolutely humiliated; he would look foolish; he would look crazy to them! But this father doesn’t care! “My boy is right there. I’m going to get him and bring him back home!” Ignoring the smell, ignoring the dirt, ignoring the heartbrokenness, this father wraps his arms around his son and embraces him!

And by sharing in his son’s humiliation, he has brought humiliation upon himself, the humiliation of compassion. But none of that matters. His boy is coming home! This is where I think the boy’s repentance occurs.

This is where, I think—for maybe the first time in his life—he comes face to face with his father’s compassionate, unconditional love, and he is undone! He doesn’t know how to respond. He can’t even finish his prayer, his rehearsed speech, in verse 21

When was the last time you came face to face with your Father’s compassionate, unconditional love? When was the last time you were undone by the mercy and grace you have been shown? This boy has no clue how to respond. But that’s okay, because his daddy does!

And in verse 22, this father goes down the list, and he restores his son to being a full member of the family and a full member of the village. Then he throws a party to celebrate! Can I just say, sinners don’t stay sinners if they eat with Jesus.

Jesus doesn’t eat with sinners to make a political statement, Jesus eats with sinners to restore them to life, to wholeness, to obedience to God! Why do we tend to eat with sinners? Is that our drive, our passion? To restore them to obedience? 

But now we need to turn our attention to that elder brother. The story’s not over yet. We’ve had one climax, but what about him? Having a compassionate father should lead to compassionate children, shouldn’t it? But let’s keep reading. Verse 25: 

Now his older son was in the field, and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing.

This older brother had spent a long, hot day working out in the sun. He has no clue what is going on back home.

But as he gets closer to the house, he hears something, and he smells something. And so he calls a servant over to find out, “What’s going on?” 

And he said to him, “Your brother has come [back], and your father has killed the fattened calf, because he has received him back safe and sound.” (Luke 15:27) 

And the older brother is furious!

But let’s take a minute and realize what he’s just been told. This older brother has just learned his young foolish brother, who has burned every bridge, has had the audacity to come back home. And normally in that type of situation, the village would rise up to mock and taunt him while the family got together, “What do we do with him? Do we let him back in? Do we make him pay? How do we handle him?” 

But the older brother has just found out his father has let this boy come back home. [Erika snaps her fingers.] Like that . . . he’s forgiven him and then thrown a party to celebrate!

And, ladies, who is paying for the party? You learned at the very beginning of the parable, the father split the inheritance among the two boys. The youngest son took everything he owned and left. So who owns everything at the house now? The older brother. He’s paying the bill for a party he does not even want to throw. Maybe we have a little more compassion for the older brother right now.

Have you ever watched a young foolish sinner get welcomed back home with open arms and then sat outside, even though you have been faithful and responsible through it all? Jesus is the master storyteller. His listeners would have been on the edge of their seats wondering, What happens next? How is He going to answer this?

And we’re told in verse 28, this older brother is so furious with his father and the compassion he has shown! He stands outside. He refuses to enter the party. He is publicly shaming himself and his family. As the older brother, he has responsibilities at every family gathering that he is completely ignoring . . . and all the guests know it. This is public humiliation!

This father has several options, again, one of which would include dragging his son in to be laid at his feet. This is no ordinary father! And once again, he humbles himself and goes outside to plead with his son—the humiliation of his compassion.

But the older brother will have none of it! He’s furious with his father. In verses 29 and 30, he lets his father have it! 

“Look, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came [this sinner came home . . . not ‘my brother,’ but ‘your son’], who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the . . . calf for him!” [You’re eating with a sinner!] 

Remember the Pharisees complaint way back in verse 2? “This man eats with tax collectors and sinners!” 

This is the moment of Jesus’ response, and it is a loving, compassionate, heartfelt rebuke. In verse 31, “son” actually in the Greek is a term of endearment. It could better be translated, “My dear son.” Can’t you just feel this father’s love? He loves both his boys equally!

“You are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother [he’s not just my son, he is your brother] was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found.” 

The entire parable has been building to this point. This is the climax and the purpose of the parable. This is Jesus’ answer to the Pharisees way back in verse 2. Essentially He says to them, “You’re right. These people are sinners. They have burned every bridge. They have hurt God, and they have hurt man. They have been suffering due to their own sin! But you have a Father in heaven who is compassionate towards those who are suffering, and He sent Me to bring them back home. I am restoring them to the family. Now is not the time to settle accounts, to figure out who did what or when. Now is the time to rejoice that your brothers and sisters are coming home! Can’t you set all that aside? Can’t you show compassion?” 

The parable ends with that question hanging in the air, because that effectively puts us in the place of the older brother, and that puts Jesus in the place of the father. Every time you read this parable, Jesus is standing outside pleading with you to rejoice with Him and join in with Him as He brings the sinners home!

Now we’re ready to answer that question: “Who is the main character of this parable?” Who’s this parable really about? Who starts the parable? There was a father who had two sons. Who ends the parable? Who’s in the climax with both sons? Who’s the party really for? Have you ever asked yourself that question?

In the first two parables, who was the party for? The sheep that got lost or the shepherd who found it? The coin that got lost or the woman who found it? Who is the party for? The boy who gets lost or the father who feels compassion, humiliates himself to go out and bring his boy home? 

It’s not about us, ladies. The prodigal is not the point of the parable. It’s all about the father! It is all about the Father—this amazingly compassionate Father who humbles Himself time and time again to reach sinners and call them home. The Father who reaches into our brokenness, our suffering—often due to our own foolish choices—but He still reaches in to make things right. A compassionate Father should lead to compassionate children. 

Have you ever struggled with compassion?

Whether you were once the foolish young sinner, all of us can become the elder brother, can we not? And chances are, if you have struggled with someone, it’s usually someone close. The elder brother didn’t struggle with the pagan in Rome, he struggled with his own flesh and blood—the person in the room next door.

What about us? For us it might be our spouse, a rebellious sibling, a coworker, a neighbor, or what about that lady in your church who just drives you crazy? Who is God calling you to show compassion towards today?

And this is not just any compassion, this is a compassion that’s willing to humble myself in order to serve and help others into the kingdom of God—a compassion that sees suffering, maybe due to foolish sinful choices, and still reaches in to make things right. A compassion that may not get many “likes” on Facebook or re-tweets on Twitter.

It’s not easy to show this type of compassion. But it’s not about us, is it? It’s all about the Father, and this Father is full of compassion! I think every woman here would say we have all been shown great compassion. And if our loving Father can show us this type of compassion, can we not show it to others? A compassion where we are emptied, but our Father is exalted? 

It is difficult, it is hard, it is painful and humbling, but we have a great example, don’t we? Let’s pray.

Lord God, You are good, and we want to acknowledge we are not. We struggle. We are full of self, Lord God. We are broken. But You are a God who is in the process of restoring what was lost, giving sight to the blind, letting the lame leap. And we want to join in with You as you heal a broken world.

Teach us how to have this kind of compassion, to reach into the ugly, the painful, the broken, to love and serve—even at the cost sometimes of my own pride and arrogance. Work with You to set things right, because You are God, and You are worth it all! Through the power of the Holy Spirit, through the faithfulness of the Son and to the glory of God the Father we pray . . . and we live! Amen.

Nancy: Amen! Erika VanHaitsma shared this message with a group of women who had gathered to encourage one another here at the Revive Our Hearts headquarters in southwest Michigan. Here are just a few of the responses from women who were in the audience as Erika spoke that day.

Shannon: Erika, I loved the humiliation of compassion. I love that! There is such a humiliation in showing compassion. I was thinking about the times we in this room share truth. We do it well, and we represent God’s Word, and we represent justice . . . and there is backlash, right?

When we write well and express truth and the world and God’s Word don't line up. So, the more broken the recipient, the more backlash there is. I’ve had women come up, and they’re just angry. After I speak they’re angry because I’ve suggested that they surrender to God.

They’ll email me and they’re angry, or there’s a blog post they don’t like, and they’re angry. What I want to do is release my wrath, present my wrath! But the humiliation of compassion and meeting that brokenness, that’s just representing the Father, to respond to someone’s backlash, the sinner.

I loved how you had the young, foolish son coming toward the father. I didn’t realize that he wasn’t really repentant yet, and his jaw drops when he sees the humiliating compassion of his father. So, yes, let’s be like that as we respond to those who don’t really want to hear the message. It’s so, so good for those of us in the room!

Samantha: Erika, it’s really resonating with me. I’ve actually been separated for the past eight months, there has just been a lot of abuse in my marriage. I’ll never forget what it felt like when I drove by myself from where I was in South Carolina to Indiana to live with my parents. When I walked into that house, the look on my father’s face, there was so much compassion!

I’ve realized, as God has been working in my heart and healing me, that I would often view God a lot as how my husband has treated me. There would be a lot of, “Are you kidding me, Samantha? Like, really?” But my father has shown me how God actually sees me, and it’s that constant, “Come here. I’m here with you. I delight in you, and I want to be with you.”

So, I’m being so challenged to have compassion as I’ve been so wronged, but I’m so, so grateful for my dad who just looks at me and says, “I’m so glad you’re here!”—even in the hardest situation. I picture the father on that path saying, “Come here!” So, thank you for encouraging me in that.

Sarah: When I was younger, it was so interesting, because my sin that I was battling was partly things that were done to me that brought a lot of shame on me. I had this thought that the shame that was brought on me would be shameful to those who loved me, and so I didn’t share it.

And, you know, if you hold onto that stuff, it affects you in some way. I tried to just hold it together, and what it ended up doing was having me go down to that level and live that way, and almost to make it seem more normal and okay and healthy. That just led to a destructive path.

So it was half my own sin that I was feeling the weight of, and half the pain I was feeling. I was carrying the weight. I felt an anger toward my parents, even though they loved me so much. They showed me so much love and compassion and patience.

I remember being in the kitchen one day, and I was just screaming at my mom! She looked at me, and with sobs she said, “I will not let the enemy have power over you. I will not give up on you!” And I just fell into a heap on the floor. 

And through the next couple years, even though I felt this anger towards them, it was so interesting. As soon as I came out of the hospital, it was like the Lord lifted the burdens off me. Through it all, I realized that I knew how deeply my parents loved me, and that is what kept me coming back. 

It wasn’t them trying to sternly tell me things and saying, “This is wrong, this is right,” as much as I needed that from them as my parents. What drew me back to them was knowing they were still going to be there, even though I didn’t deserve it, even though I had thrown things in their faces. I had been an awful child. I had caused so much pain in their lives!

I’ve seen God use parents who have chosen to trust my life in His hands, and to fight for me and to pray for me and to believe that I was still worth fighting for, even though I didn’t act like I was worth it. It showed me such a picture of that father!

We are not loved because we've earned it or because we are such a great child. It’s because He is fighting for us, and He is constantly reaching to pull us back in! That’s the love that wins us, isn’t it? It’s not the beating you over the head with, “Come back to me!” It’s the love that draws us. 

It has given me such a helpful perspective to remember that for my own kids when everything in you is like, “You do not deserve me to do this for you right now!” It’s helped me, and I’ve actually had that happen with my son.”

He has said to me in moments just something simple like, “Mom, thanks for still loving me.” I know that deep down he doesn’t feel lovable. Even though I don’t feel like I act as a parent who shows love enough, the fact that I haven't stopped loving him, I haven’t given up on him, and have been willing to walk this really dark, painful road with him, somehow under that he knows that I still love him—despite my bad reactions so often—and that’s the Lord. That’s the Lord’s love and compassion. His continual strength gives the compassion that He knows my son needs.

So it’s been sweet to see it, both in my own life and now being given the opportunity to try to do that same thing for my own children. It’s just such a sweet gift!

Nancy: I hope you’re encouraged, as I was, by hearing these testimonies of God’s incredible compassion. God puts His compassion in our hearts to display His love to a lost and broken world, and that’s something we aim to do every day through the ministry of Revive Our Hearts.

When you support this ministry financially and through prayer, you’re helping to reveal the compassionate heart of God to a needy and hurting world.

Dannah: So, with your gift of any amount this month, we’d love to send you a book by Erin Davis titled Uncommon Compassion: Revealing the Heart of God. This book will take you on a journey to see the compassion of Jesus through the Bible, and in the process, you’ll see the Lord’s compassion and mercy in your own life! 

Request your copy of Uncommon Compassion with your donation at ReviveOurHearts.com, or call us at 1-800-569-5959. 

We’ve been talking about some characteristics of compassion, but what does it look like to live compassionately? Nicole Furno will be with us tomorrow to help share some practical ideas of compassion in action. I hope you’ll be back for Revive Our Hearts.

This program is a listener-supported production of Revive Our Hearts in Niles, Michigan, calling women to freedom, fullness and fruitfulness in Christ!

All Scripture is taken from the ESV.
 

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