And Other Revelations

Life is getting pretty ugly these days – disease, strife, competition, and fear are driving us all the bitter edge, and we seem to relish in hurting others instead of loving them. Throughout these stormy moments, I have been thinking about a couple of Bible verses, and I think the Lord has revealed a deeper understanding of them for me.  

The first verse is Matthew 5: 39:

“But I say, do not resist an evil person! If someone slaps you on the right cheek, offer the other cheek also.” 

The Gospel of Matthew

I studied Matthew 5 a couple of years ago as I prepared to teach Sunday School, and I remember the Bible commentary explaining that to offer someone the other cheek would require the injured person to literally turn her head and look the attacker in the eye, something of a quiet defiance, right before she presents the other side for the next blow. As if Jesus is saying, “yes, you can hit me again, but you will have to look me in the eye and acknowledge my humanity before you do.” That explanation felt especially empowering because those on the attack find attacking much easier if they can dehumanize the one they are attacking, which is easier to do if you don’t have to look into their eyes.  

But some recent events have broadened my understanding even a bit more. When Jesus offers his other cheek to be slapped again, he willingly takes the blow, soaks up the violence himself, almost as if he says, “Dump your pain and anger on to me; I can take it.” And he can; he lets us pour out our hearts with all our frustrations and heartbreak right on to him, and he soaks it all in. Then, he returns to us love – unadulterated, unfiltered, untainted agape love. Every time. Every time we dump on him, he takes it and sends back only love.  

I am more than grateful for that love, and quite in awe of how he takes on our burdens for us.  

But me?

I was downright dumbfounded by his instructions for us to do the same, though – to take on the burdens and pain of others and even offer them the other cheek for a second hit, another bruise. Of course Jesus could take on the pain of the world; he already did it once on the cross and he is one with the Holy Father Creator God, so that makes him all powerful and all, but us? Shallow, self-centered, and petty creatures that we are? We are supposed to take on other people’s pain, their hurtful words, their ugly posts on social media, their gossip behind our backs? And do so willingly? And then we turn the other cheek to offer them a new soft spot to trample? That is what he expects out of us, mere mortals who follow him weakly and dump all our damage on to him? How are we supposed to take on another’s burden?  

Here is where the Lord shed a bit of light into my soul. Because he bears my burdens, then I can certainly emulate him and bear someone else’s with the power of the Holy Spirit that resides within, and I think I understand now why he asks us to do what seems impossible. If I willingly take on someone else’s blow, then I stop the attacker from hurting someone else. If I allow them to unleash on me, then the violence just might end with me at that moment. If the attacker expends her hateful words and bitter posts toward me, then that keeps someone else from being hurt, especially if the attacker gets it all out of her system onto me.  

Jesus, the Prince of Peace, allows us to dump on to him to prevent us from dumping on to others. The same for us. If we offer up our other cheek, then maybe the attacker will use up his anger with us, and no one else is harmed. We always have the Holy Spirit to repair our bruises, as dark as some of their blows leave our souls, so we can take it. We can deescalate the violence by absorbing it.  

And since we always have the Holy Spirit, nothing they do can shake our place or disturb our peace. Which leads me to this verse: John 10: 28-30, which says,

“I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one can snatch them away from me, for my Father has given them to me, and he is more powerful than anyone else. No one can snatch them from the Father’s hand. The Father and I are one.” 

The Gospel of John

Growing up, I always heard this verse used as an explanation of the famous “once saved, always saved” doctrine, and yes, it works for that, but it also applies to other situations. Like the turning of the other cheek. They can hurt us with their words and their exclusions and their limitations and their requirements, but none of it really matters because they do not have the power to snatch us from the hand of God. Doesn’t matter how many times they scream out what I must do to meet their standard of who gets to go to Heaven when they are not Heaven’s gatekeepers. They can throw Bible verses at me, claiming the verse to be proof that I am sinful or unworthy. 

Guess what? I am sinful and unworthy. I have no explanation why Jesus allows me to dump all over him while he continues to grant me mercy, but he does. Out of pure, selfless love as demonstrated on the cross, I get to rest tonight with peace because no one else can knock me out of his hands. They can push literally or they can slap virtually with harsh words and cold stares, but none of it matters. They don’t control his hand; they don’t control his gates; and they don’t control his love.  

Jesus said on the cross, “it is finished.” And it is. I am permanently settled in the palm of his hand, and there’s nothing anyone else can do about that – as mad as it may make them.  

So, dump all your ugliness on to me; if it spares someone else, then we all win. No, there’s even more to it than that; I won a long time ago when I confessed my Lord as Savior. Done deal.