When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly. “He himself bore our sins” in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; “by his wounds you have been healed.” For “you were like sheep going astray,” but now you have returned to the Shepherd an Overseer of your souls.
1 Peter 2:23-25
Abuse. The word and idea are always in front of us. The facts and figures about it are in the news constantly. And they should. How people are hurting and abusing others should always get more than our attention. It should break our hearts because there’s a thin line between what’s happening to someone else and what’s happening to us and our loved ones.
I’m not going to try and convince you or anyone else about the growth of abuse or human suffering. The numbers and statistics are just too much to fully understand. They stagger my mind and emotions.
But what really gets to me is that for every number. For every statistic. For every rise in a graph, there’s a person. Someone’s daughter or son. They started out as a baby who was lovingly held. Whose life had potential. Their parents dreamed of a better life for them.
And then it started. The abuse. Words that were meant to hurt, and they did. Words that said they weren’t worth anything. That they had no value. Words that slashed at their value. Words that insulted. Words that made it clear that no one cared. And while words can and do hurt, it almost never stops there.
Words always lead to actions. It could start with someone just getting a little bit too close for comfort. Then they bump into them, telling them that they’re in charge and they’d better watch out. Next, they grab an arm to make sure everyone knows who’s in control.
Then the beatings start. A slap on the face. A punch to the gut. Twisting an arm till the pain is either too much to bear or a bone snaps. Eventually, the poor victim falls to the floor where kicking replaces punching. And the blood starts to flow.
Peter personally knows all about abuse because he personally witnessed it. He lived in a land that was controlled by brutal Roman forces. They were the supreme authority and could lash out at any minute without any fear of punishment.
But of all the abuse that Peter saw throughout his life, the punishment of Jesus had to be the worst. If you’ve ever watched The Passion of the Christ by Mel Gibson, you’ll get an accurate picture of the verbal[1] and physical[2] abuse that Jesus endured.
Without a doubt, Jesus was a man of suffering and familiar with grief[3]. And yet, what did he do with all that pain and abuse? Did he lash out against the people with whips? Did he scream at the soldiers who put a crown of thorns into his head? Did he curse at the men who hammered nails into his wrists and feet?
For sure, that’s our natural reaction. Think about the last time someone intentionally did something that hurt you. Or hurt someone in your family. What did you want to do? What thoughts flew through your mind to punish them? Or maybe you’re more Biblical and wanted to call down fire from heaven on them like James and John[4].
But Jesus goes in a totally different direction. The short and accurate answer is no. He didn’t try to defend himself. He didn’t send out an email blast to the world that listed all the good things he’d done for so many. There was no staged interview where he got a chance to set the record straight. There weren’t any ads in the media to make sure that everyone knew exactly what happened to him and why. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly. When I read these words, I have a couple reactions.
The first is “WOW!” What faith. Instead of defending himself, Jesus believed that God was personal enough to know his problems and strong enough to do something about them. God’s response might not be immediate, but he’s never late[5].
And then the second thought that bounces through my head is, “No.” Not me. I’ll never be like that. I can’t be. And in one sense I’m right. In my own strength, I could never do this. But with the power of God the Holy Spirit, I can. He can give me the same strength to live just like Jesus did.
Now that’s exciting. That’s what I call living. In my little brain, that would be a miracle. Not one of your average miracles, but a great big one. Like raising Lazarus from the dead kind of miracle. And the amazing thing is that God wants to be so alive in our lives that we can live life this way. No matter the abuse we’ve suffered in the past. No matter the pain or disappointment. God’s right there to be with us. To hold us. To comfort. To give us power and grace for today and bright hope for tomorrow.
Noodling Questions
When you hear the word abuse, do you think of yourself or others? Explain
How do you respond to people that have abused others? Describe.
Why is forgiveness so important for both the abuser and the abused?
[3] Isaiah 53:3
[4] Luke 9:54
[5] Habakkuk 2:3
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