The Harvest of Compassion — Silvio José Báez, ocd
This Sunday’s Gospel gives us a scene that sums up the life and ministry of Jesus: “When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd” (Mt 9:36). Jesus doesn’t observe from a distance, and he doesn’t regard them with indifference. He draws near. He sees with his heart. What he sees moves him deeply within. Jesus doesn’t just notice people’s suffering; he feels it as his own. He takes it upon himself. This is the compassion of God made flesh: a love that doesn’t remain at a distance from pain, but enters into it and suffers it from within.
In that crowd, who does Jesus see? He sees people who are weary and cast down, burdened by illness, without hope. He sees men and women with no direction, no clear path, and no one to guide them or protect them. That crowd is like a reflection of all humanity: longing and not finding, struggling and not seeing the fruit of its labor—suffering with no one to offer consolation. Jesus saw the people as “sheep without a shepherd,” a biblical expression Moses used before his death, when he asked God not to leave his people “like sheep without a shepherd” (Num 27:17).
This image has lost none of its relevance. Today, too, so many people are living like sheep without a shepherd. They are sad, alone, disoriented, and disillusioned by deceptive idols. We see families torn apart by poverty, forced migration, or violence, and entire peoples robbed of freedom and of a future by war or by dictatorial regimes that rule through fear and repression. Today, Jesus would see what he saw then: a humanity weary and cast down, hungry for truth, compassion, and freedom.
Jesus’ compassion wasn’t merely a feeling. It became words of hope and acts that set people free: “Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues, and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, and curing every disease and every sickness” (Mt 9:35). Compassion and action: that is why, when Jesus sees the suffering crowd, he’s moved to do something, and he cries out: “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few” (Mt 9:37). There’s a harvest to be gathered: hope to be restored, wounded communities to be served and set free, and history itself to be redeemed. And that harvest must not be lost.
But the initiative isn’t ours. It belongs to God. That is why Jesus asks us to pray: “therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest” (Mt 9:38). Prayer is the first and most urgent response to the pain of the world. Not because it replaces action, but because it is the root and foundation of action, making it fruitful and strong. Those who pray recognize that the world won’t be saved by our strength alone. Those who pray enter into harmony with God’s plan and become ready to be part of his response.
From this prayer and compassion comes the calling of the Twelve. Jesus “summoned his twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to cure every disease and every sickness” (Mt 10:1). The number twelve points to the twelve tribes of Israel, the people of the first covenant. The Twelve are the foundation of a new people, born from the Lord’s redeeming will. Jesus doesn’t choose them to hold positions. He chooses them to carry his gaze and his compassion into the world. The Twelve are all of us, the whole Church, chosen and sent by Jesus to proclaim the good news that God is near.
Before sending the Twelve, Jesus gives them power, but not power to dominate; he gives them power to heal. He doesn’t give them power to humiliate, but to raise up. He gives them one command: “Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons” (Mt 10:8). The power Jesus gives is power placed at the service of life and human dignity. It is exactly the opposite of the power that seduces the world: the power that crushes, controls, terrifies, and keeps people under its thumb.
This power, received in order to serve and not to control others, did not end with the Twelve. It continues today, through us. Today, too, our first task is to proclaim that the kingdom of God is near, that God himself is near with his mercy and his liberating power. This proclamation becomes visible and credible through the very signs Jesus entrusted to the Twelve, signs that today extend his compassionate gaze over a humanity that is weary and cast down: by curing the sick, raising the dead, cleansing lepers, and casting out demons.
To heal the sick is to lovingly care for the lives of others: to bring relief to those who suffer in body, to comfort those whose hearts are wounded, and to act with charity, bringing forgiveness and hope into the midst of pain. To raise the dead is to restore hope to those who no longer expect anything, helping them discover glimmers of God’s light in the dark nights of life. It means proclaiming the God of life without growing weary. And it also means opposing oppressive powers that attack life and hold people down, with the conviction that God accompanies and blesses every effort made on behalf of human freedom and dignity.
To cleanse lepers is to work to restore dignity to those whom society or religion has pushed to the margins, through actions that foster welcome, inclusion, solidarity, and respectful dialogue. To cast out demons is to commit ourselves to processes of liberation, both personal and social, and to help those caught in the grip of idols, fear, or hopelessness recover their freedom. It also means denouncing the irrationality and cruelty of regimes that attack human dignity and multiply people’s misery, often even invoking God’s name.
And Jesus places all of this—healing, raising the dead, cleansing lepers, and freeing people from demons—under one single criterion: “You received without payment; give without payment” (Mt 10:8). Christians don’t proclaim the Gospel out of ambition or for reward. They’re moved only by the conviction that they’ve been loved without deserving it. From that love they’ve received, they love without conditions and freely give to everyone what they themselves have received.
Before sending us, Jesus has loved us, called us, and given us his power to proclaim that the kingdom of God is near. Let us go through life seeing others as Jesus sees them, recognizing every human being as someone loved by God. Let us walk the roads of life with his compassion, feeling the pain of others as our own and turning that pain into service and proclamation. Let us go out into the world with prophetic courage, proclaiming God’s truth and defending human dignity, even in situations of risk and conflict.
The harvest is still plentiful. The laborers are still few. Today, the Lord is still seeking men and women willing to look upon the world with his compassion. May his compassionate gaze become our own.
Bishop Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.
Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
Homily, 14 June 2026
Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.
Featured image: Anonymous crowd of people walking on city street. Image credit: blvdone / Adobe Stock. Asset ID: 58368809.
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