compassion

I witnessed compassion in my class today. 
I was describing my own feelings of compassion towards Saddam Hussein when he died. My feelings of disappointment in Americans who celebrated and even mocked his death. I had watched the clip of his hanging on youtube and wept for his soul. I watched a person who had rejected God have all his chances at redemption and salvation ended.
There would be no saving that man; no hope at all for this murderer of men. 
But he was still a man.
Not an animal, not a beast.  No less made in the image of God than I.  Angels would surely have celebrated his repentence with joyous, resounding praise toward the God of Grace. And when he died he would have been embraced by a loving Father, much in the same way I hope to be when I pass from this earth.
But none of this will, nor can ever happen for Saddam Hussein. He is dead, and his fate is sealed forever.
 As I expressed these thoughts to my class,  one girl wept embarrassed tears for a lost soul. Some may have viewed it a moment of weakness. I saw it as a moment of tremendous strength.
I think it would be hard to have too much compassion.
 I count it a priviledge to have been in its' presence today.