People everywhere threw up their hands in amazement and horror. Others sat down and cried. Billions of locusts swarmed out of clear blue skies and within two hours devoured every green thing in their path. This was not biblical Egypt but West Africa in 2004. Then climactic conditions in the sub-Sahara shortened the rainy season to a mere nine weeks. The earth parched and split. Livestock began to die, followed by children, the elderly, and the sick. SIM friends got on their knees to pray and opened their purses to give. SIM teams mobilized to meet needs through food relief projects.

African churches in three countries took leadership for distributing the food which was intended for the most needy in their congregations. Christian leaders in Galmi, Niger, soon recognized, however, that Muslim neighbors were suffering more desperately than church members. So they made an outrageous suggestion: give food outside the church first. The suggestion was accepted, and a remarkably orderly distribution of limited food supplies took place in surrounding villages. When the project closed late in 2005, reports confirmed that non-Christian families had been the primary beneficiaries of food relief around Galmi. SIM friends may not realize that their act of compassion towards suffering believers in Niger unleashed an astonishing wave of sacrificial compassion toward Muslims.

Compassion is a partnership in dignity restoration. It is always more paradoxical and more transforming to everyone involved than mere alms giving. Sacrifice on the part of one person creates an opportunity for both giver and receiver to become more like Jesus. While food recipients were being delivered out of starvation’s slow degradation, the givers were being delivered from selfishness.

Daunted by Need

In today’s world, we are assaulted daily with hundreds of issues we should feel compassionate about. We have several choices. We can choose to feel horror and despair. We can choose to numb and isolate ourselves. We can choose to assuage our guilt by doing the minimum. Or we can choose compassionate engagement, praying for the wisdom to prioritize a few issues wholeheartedly. But even if we narrow our causes, we face the challenge of the long haul. Someone once lamented, “Africa constantly suffers war, famine, and AIDS. It never changes!” In their zeal for Africa’s suffering, they had lost sight of the glory of God in the African church. Exhaustion and impatience had chomped away at their compassion like locusts. “Compassion fatigue” had set in.

If the quantity and duration of human needs don’t daunt you, perhaps their complexity will. If only compassion always meant giving a meal to that ubiquitous poster child of poverty: a malnourished toddler with tearful, dirt-smeared face! But reality is often far more unwieldy. The press of beggars in a market. The child soldier who might either be jailed for heinous war crimes or released into society. Self-sabotaging cycles of violence between some communities. Manipulation by those who are merely lazy. All of these complicate our best intentions and put us at risk of judgmental attitudes, bitterness, and despair.

Blood and Oil

At those times in the journey of discipleship when our hearts are hard as a clump of scorched dirt, so destroyed by locusts that we feel incapable of giving one more thing, how do we revive them? How can we create inner spiritual conditions that will produce a bumper crop of compassion? Perhaps nothing can soften a hardened heart like these two spiritual liquids: blood and oil.

The blood of Jesus rushes in to cleanse hearts that are authentically broken over their own sin. In the Bible, God’s compassionate forgiveness was poured out on His people after a process of sin and repentance. Getting in touch with our profound brokenness will dismantle fortresses of cynicism, indifference, judgmentalism, and suspicion about other people’s brokenness. The second liquid is the oil of the Spirit. The Spirit is our Comforter as we “suffer with”—the literal meaning of the word compassion. To cut ourselves off from Him exposes us to lies of discouragement. To reconnect with Him expands our capacity to “suffer with” as He gives us His comfort and guidance.

	Sonja Durrenmatt teaching Fulani children Joni Byker photo

Where Is Your Heart?

Compassion is both a culmination of actions and a catalyst for further actions. Just as Christians in Galmi, Niger, experienced generosity, they in turn extended it to their neighbors in a heroic way. We see the same effect in the lives of other people in this magazine: Akhbar in India, Rahel in Ethiopia, and Rainer in Bolivia. As they received compassion, they extended compassion towards others—the crowning step in any spiritual transformation.

Where is your heart? Are you frustrated and cynical, numb and indifferent, exhausted and despairing, or struggling to find balance? We pray that reading this magazine will reinvigorate your calling to compassion. Thank you for your sacrificial partnership with us!