Injustice is an awful thing. It’s cruel. I’d like to say it’s unusual, but it seems to be common practice in today’s world. Do you ever wonder why? It’s been happening since time began. The Bible has many stories where people were treated unfairly. Robbed. Discarded. Bullied. Beaten up. Killed. The list goes on.

Abel’s death at the hand of his brother Cain. Uzziah’s death. Stephen’s death.  Saul’s unrelenting pursuit of David. Daniel thrown into the lion’s den. Three Hebrew men thrown into the fiery furnace. The list goes on.

Injustice is nothing new. But that doesn’t make it right.

The heart of the matter is a heart matter. Sin. Selfish sinful desires. The desire to get even. The burning feed of jealousy. The unending lust for more. The pursuit of having your way, at all costs. The thought that one person is better than another, when all are created equal.

It’s a lesson that we are obviously slow to learn. We keep repeating the same egregious mistakes of generations past. What will it take to undo the sins of our forefathers? When will we learn?

Sin still permeates the hearts of mankind today. What is the price? Oh. It’s heavy. 

What does the Lord require of you? Do justice. Love kindness. Walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8

But let’s consider the injustice that turned the course of history like no other event.

From a human perspective, it was the wrong thing to do. It was evil. It was cruel. It was inhumane. But they did it anyway. What was it they did? You ask. 

They killed an innocent man.

 Oh. He was one of their own. He was the son of a carpenter. He was the firstborn son in a home that got its start amidst a scandal. But he knew his place. His lot in life.

 He realized he was different from the other boys. Perhaps they ridiculed him. Or bullied him. One never knows what kids go through if they don’t talk about it. I’m sure he had many things to ponder as he grew. 

He wasn’t handsome. His looks didn’t make the girls swoon. But he was kind. He learned a trade. He worked hard. He was a noticer. He saw the little things. He listened. He knew things no one had told him. He was wise beyond his years.

He cared for others. He loved unconditionally. He washed the feet of his inner circle. He allowed a woman of ill repute to anoint his feet with expensive perfume. He freed a woman caught in the act of adultery from certain death while others wanted her to receive the punishment the law said she deserved. 

He invited himself to a dishonest tax collector’s home for dinner. He stood silent as one of his own kissed him in betrayal. He rebuked those buying and selling in the sacred temple on the holy day.

But he was pierced for our rebellion, crushed for our sins. He was beaten so we could be whole. He was whipped so we could be healed. Isaiah 53:5

He was despised. He was rejected. Oh. He was acquainted with the deepest grief. He was a man of sorrows.

He dared to call himself God, because he was God. Is that a crime? Was it worthy of death?

Were there riots in the streets after his death? Did his followers chant death to Pontius Pilate for allowing an innocent man to die? Was the marketplace ransacked because of the injustice of this one man’s death? Were chariots burned in protest?

But oh. How their world changed when he rose from the dead. I mean. Who does that? Who rises from the dead?

What can I do to avenge his death?

The killing of that innocent man is an injustice. But by his death, my soul was saved. How do I reconcile that? By following his plan. By loving him. By obeying his teaching. By sharing his truth with others. By treating others as I would want to be treated. By becoming like him.

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