BellissiWarriors

I recently visited Ellis Island. Most of the people who came through Ellis Island bought a one way ticket to a place they had never been before. They endured an ocean crossing packed in like sardines in the belly of a ship to a place they’d never even seen, because they believed the promise of the new place outweighed the familiarity of the old one.

On my way to Ellis Island, I felt an echo of their joy and excitement when Lady Liberty first came into view. She was the symbol for so many of the hopes they had for a better life. She was still a good ways off, so she appeared to be no bigger than a statuette. My husband held out his hand, and we snapped a silly picture in which it looked like she was resting on his palm.

The boat continued on its course, bringing us closer and closer to our destination. And the closer we got, the larger Lady Liberty grew, until she was massive, towering more than 300 feet above us. Now we were the dwarves who could fit in her hand.

That’s the thing – when something is far off, it appears tiny, small, even insignificant. But the closer we come, the bigger it gets. Lady Liberty was never small enough to fit in my hand, but I was so far from her, my limited perspective convinced me it was true.

I think the same thing happens with us and God. When we are far from Him, He appears small, insignificant, like an inspirational thought, but we don’t recognize that He can have any real impact, any real power, in our lives.

But the closer we come to Him, the more we begin to realize His true proportions. He is mighty, majestic, larger than life. The heavens are His throne and the earth is His footstool (Isaiah 66:1). He holds us in the palm of His hand.

Our journey to a new life with God can be compared to the immigrants’ journey to America. First we hear stories of Him and a far-off land, a place that promises hope and something different than what we can imagine if we stay where we are. We build a picture of Him in our minds based on what we’ve heard. The new land sparkles with promise. Something stirs inside of us, and we decide to jump ship. We leave behind our old ways, our old life, and we buy a one way, non-refundable ticket to a new adventure.

When we enter into a relationship with God, we are brought near by Christ. He gives us free passage. He is the vessel that carries us closer and closer into God’s presence so we can begin to see Him as He really is.  Through Christ, we get face-to-face with God, and our preconceived notions are overwritten with the magnitude of who He really is and how much He really loves us.

Our God isn’t a man-made, immobile metal statue on a pedestal.  He is no idol with feet of clay.   He isn’t blind to our needs, he isn’t deaf to our cries.  He sees, He hears, He speaks. He is the living, always working God, a sure foundation, and in His hand is the power to give us the new life we long for.

Jesus knows about being wounded. It’s what makes Him tender and compassionate towards us. Before He was born, the prophet Isaiah foretold Jesus’ future:

My servant grew up in the Lord’s presence like a tender green shoot, sprouting from a root in dry and sterile ground. There was nothing beautiful or majestic about his appearance, nothing to attract us to him. He was despised and rejected – a man of sorrows, acquainted with bitterest grief. We turned our backs on him and looked the other way when he went by. He was despised, and we did not care.

Isaiah 53:2-3

We have crossed the road to avoid the wounded man attacked by the cares and sorrows, the hurts and sins, of this life.  And the thing is, they were our cares and sorrows, our hurts and sins.

He was wounded and crushed for our sins. He was beaten that we might have peace. He was whipped, and we were healed!

Isaiah 53:5

Through His wounds, His suffering and death on the Cross, Jesus brought about our healing. He paid our every debt and the price for our recovery. We are healed because we see Christ suffered and died and it didn’t mean that God had abandoned Him.  Which means our pain and suffering don’t mean that God has abandoned us.  Through Christ, God shows that He will meet our every need. In Christ, suffering wasn’t the end of the story.  His suffering was overwritten by God’s power with victory.  And now that same power that raised Jesus from the dead, that overwrote suffering and death – that’s the power that lives in us (Romans 8:11). So there is hope for us and that’s Good News!

If Jesus has already accomplished all this, why do we get attacked by life? Why do trials and cares come into our path? I don’t know the specific reason for your particular sorrow. But I wonder if perhaps others are healed by our wounds.

I’m not saying that our suffering can bring about anyone’s salvation. That was a one-time deal that has already been redeemed. Jesus is the only one who could do it, He’s the only one who can do it, and He’s the only one who will do it because He was the once-for-all payment. The window is closed. No one can add anything to Christ’s finished work on the Cross.

However, our wounds lead us to places where others are hurting. And if we are a Christ-follower, we carry His light inside of us. That means we take His light to the cancer floor, the sickroom, the shelter, to the single mother, the abandoned child, the drug addict. And when we do, we carry His message of hope. We tell about how Jesus was our Good Samaritan, how He picked us up and cleaned us up and healed us. We become Christ’s ambassadors, sharing the wonderful message that Christ came to the world to rescue us, to defeat the sin that causes suffering, and to give us hope of a new, eternal life in the power of God.

Christ died only once as a sacrifice to take away the sins of many people.  He will come again but not to deal with our sins again.  This time he will bring salvation to all those who are eagerly waiting for him.

Hebrews 9:28