Hurts and Hugs

Peter thought that he loved Jesus. When Jesus told the disciples they would all fall away and be scattered because of the crucifixion that was about to happen, Peter answered him,

“Though they all fall away because of you, I will never fall away.” Jesus said to him, “Truly, I tell you, this very night, before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.” Peter said to him, “Even if I must die with you, I will not deny you!” And all the disciples said the same. (Matthew 26:33–35)

Peter heard what Jesus said, but until it happened, he didn’t believe he would deny Jesus. At that point in his life, he was an “I’ll believe it when I see it” disciple. Most of us know what that is like.

After Jesus died and rose from the dead, He appeared to the disciples and made them breakfast. Then Jesus asked Peter if he loved Him. Peter insisted that he did, but Jesus asked again, and then a third time.

 “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” and he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep. (John 21:17)

There is some theological controversy about this narrative and how it might apply to Christians today. Without going into that, Chambers writes about the way this question hurt Peter. It poked at his declaration of loyalty that had proved to be not as deep as he had previously declared.

Chambers says that Peter loved Jesus as any natural man would love a good man. This is a love that is genuine enough, but not deep, not controlling the very heart and life. Such an overwhelming true love does not have to say much because it shows in everything that person is and does. By denying Jesus, Peter’s love was shown to be lacking. However, the hurt he felt when his shallowness was exposed had a far greater impact.

Chambers also says that hearing the Word of God and feeling it cut to the heart produces pain beyond any pain that comes from sin. This is because sin blunts our feelings and makes us immune to the damage it does.

This gives me pause. I tend to think that sin can excite, or thrill, or confuse, or produce sorrow, or make me cry my heart out. It does not seem as if it is blunting my feelings but intensifies them. However, sin does dull and blunt my feelings toward God. Sin dulls the passion that I have for Jesus Christ.

Oddly, that dulled passion is restored by the pain of conviction. To be hurt by Jesus “is the most exquisite hurt conceivable,” a natural pain, but deeply personal. The Word of God “pierces even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit” and slashes out all self-deception. When Jesus speaks directly to me or asks, “Do you love Me?” I cannot answer lightly or say “nice” things about my dedication. I know who is speaking and exactly what He says and why He says it. The point He makes is sharp and unmistakable, revealing my sin and putting me before Him with a contrite heart. The pain of His probing penetrates all my pretense.

Yet there is something astonishing about the hurt of the Lord’s Word that is unlike any other painful rebuke; when He comes to me with it, I also feel more loved than at any other time. Like a surgeon’s knife, His goal is healing, not harm, and He is the only One who can deeply wound and lovingly hug at the same time.

The Gospel and Pain

Do repeated images of the bombings in Boston serve any purpose? When 9/11 happened, I watched it too much. I still weep at the painful memories and feel great sadness. Sometimes I must tell myself that this is not about me, or my reaction to events. Often, I wonder if the pain I feel about horror in the lives of others just might be the pain that God feels when humanity does such terrible things to its own.

Jesus died that we might be set free from the pain of our own sin, and so we don’t hate, maim and murder. He died even to help us bear the sin of others who do these things. Yet one day it will be over — no more sin and no more pain for those who are in Christ…

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. (Revelation 21:4)

In the interim, the Gospel remains His answer to pain. For one thing, the fact that Jesus died for me shows that God so loved the world. Only He can hate our sin and yet love us enough to die for us, to give us hope in the face of our pain. The Gospel declares that this life is not all there is, and that the pain of it will come to an end.

Christ Himself does the same thing. He was troubled by death and by sin, but the Scriptures do not say that He shied away from pain, even though He experienced it at its worst.

His power was the sure knowledge that His heavenly Father loved Him. He was more concerned on the cross about Him turning away than He was about the nails in His hands and feet or the suffocating and slow dying that crucifixion produces. Yet in all this, He focused on God’s love and the promised results. Knowing His Father loved Him and would keep His promises meant that He could endure pain.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12:1–2)

The Gospel gives me that same promise. There is joy set before me. This life, painful or not, is not all there is. I can endure whatever pain might be my lot because I know what’s coming. God will wipe away all tears and pain will be no more… because of Jesus.