He Saw Them

I must confess. Every time I hear the song, “People Need The Lord,” I think of Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy. When I was a teenager, a couple in my church sang the song as special music on Sunday night and they sounded exactly like Kermit and Miss Piggy. They weren’t trying to. They were being serious. They were singing out of a genuine heart and spirit. Yet their voices just came out...well...like Jim Hinson’s characters.

And so...when I hear, “People need the Lord, People need the Lord, At the end of broken dreams, He’s the open door. People need the Lord, people need the Lord, When will we realize, People need the Lord,” I think about a cute green frog and lovely pink pig. I know, I know, it’s bad. But it’s the truth. And I needed to confess.

However, once I get passed the initial giggles that come when the song begins, I am struck by the power of the words:

Everyday they pass me by, I can see it in their eyes, Empty people filled with care, Headed who knows where? On they go through private pain, Living fear to fear. Laughter hides their silent cries, Only Jesus hears.

Wow. What a profound lyric. We are surrounded by people, day in and day out, who are hurting—struggling—experiencing private pain—being swallowed by emptiness—that most of us never take the time to see.

The speaker in chapel on Monday morning focused his message on three words: “when he saw.”

Taken from Matthew 9, the story says: 35 Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness. 36 When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. 37 Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. 38 Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.”

Seeing people—really seeing them—is messy. It takes guts and courage. It takes time and energy. It is risky and demanding and often does not involve neat straight lines or nice rounded edges. It is not black and white. It is not always pretty. It often forces us to see ourselves in ways that we have tried to avoid. Yet seeing people—really seeing them—is the most beautiful act of love that we can give.

Jesus saw people. And when saw them he had compassion on them. And when he had compassion on them, he was moved to action. He was moved to proclaim the good news of God’s kingdom—God’s kingdom of light, love, and freedom—and he was moved to heal disease and sickness because the people were harassed and helpless—they were lost and in need of a shepherd—they needed someone to show them a better way.

Jesus saw people. He didn’t care if they were green or pink or couldn’t sing very well at all. He didn’t care if they were ugly or smelled bad or had played the martyr/victim every day of their lives until that point. Jesus saw people and did the messy work of loving them…

Oh God, open our eyes to see what you see, feel what you feel, and act as you act. Grant us fresh vision so that we might see how to share your life, love, forgiveness, redemption, and freedom with a people who are dying to be seen and heard and loved for who they are now and who they can be the future. Amen.