Good morning…
“Hi Sue,” she emailed me this week. “We are visiting Eastern Europe and were in Vukovar Croatia 🇭🇷 yesterday. There was a terrible civil battle there between the Croats and the Serbs in 1991 when Yugoslavia broke up. This Christ figure survived though the Serbian Orthodox Church of St Phillip and Jacob, where it had been, was almost totally destroyed. They call it “the wounded Jesus”; it has a place of honor in the reconstructed church. The priest told us he thought it represents hope and survival. Thought you’d enjoy this story. Will send you a few more pictures of the church.”
Ruined. Ripped up. Ramshackle disarray.
We all go through our own civil wars. We may battle cancer, debilitating disease, life-altering tragedy. We may wrestle with awful addiction, disabling depression, incessant anxiety. We may grieve the loss of loved ones, a dashed dream life, estranged friends and family members. Throughout our lives, we all face the frightening prospect of lying in ruin, exposed and vulnerable, excruciatingly wounded.
The “wounded Jesus”. I love the descriptive name given to this haunting image hanging in an exquisite sanctuary. But he was hurt because of us; he suffered so. Our wrongdoing wounded and crushed him. He endured the breaking that made us whole. The injuries he suffered became our healing (Isaiah 53:5, VOICE). I also love the priest’s insight. This symbol is positioned in a place of honor, a beacon of hope and survival.
Might hope and survival be given a place of honor as our wounded lives are being reconstructed? We are invited into oneness with God’s suffering servant, who rose up from wrecked ruin into abundant, eternal life.
Hope. Survival. Reconstruction.
This is the kind of life you’ve been invited into, the kind of life Christ lived. He suffered everything that came his way so you would know that it could be done, and also know how to do it, step-by-step. He never did one thing wrong, not once said anything amiss. They called him every name in the book and he said nothing back. He suffered in silence, content to let God set things right. He used his servant body to carry our sins to the Cross so we could be rid of sin, free to live the right way. His wounds became your healing. You were lost sheep with no idea who you were or where you were going. Now you’re named and kept for good by the Shepherd of your souls (1 Peter 2:21-24, MSG).
We are named. We are kept for good. We live in loving union with the resurrected Shepherd of our wounded souls.
…Sue…
