It’s one thing to talk about injustice. It’s a far different experience to see its face. He could still see his mom through his once 6-year-old eyes. He heard a crash at 2:00 am. He runs out of his bedroom, and as he emerged from the dark hallway, he saw his dad, fist clenched, his mom on the floor, the sound of her cry becoming a permanent track in his young mind. He runs back to his room, one prayer to speak, “Jesus, keep my mommy safe.” As the years went on, the injustice became so regular, it nearly became dull to him. By the time he was in high school, not only his mom but his younger brother had learned how to come up with new excuses for black eyes and bruises. They were a church-going family, and every Sunday his prayer was the same, and every week it never seemed to be answered. By the time he became an adult, all he could think was “Jesus you were there. You saw it all, and you did nothing.” You probably noticed the story didn’t have any names, just like injustice faces us all no matter what your name is. It’s the common story for people as we travel in this broken world. You’ve seen it. You’ve felt it. You know the hurt. You’ve experienced it simply because of how you look. You’ve endured it from people who were supposed to love you. You’ve seen it happen in the lives of people you care about. Injustice surrounds us, forces its way into our existence, and never seems to go away. All the while, people the world over have asked, “Jesus, why didn’t you do anything about it?”
The believers in the Jerusalem crowd couldn’t help but whisper the same question as tears consisting of anger and sadness clouded their view of Jesus. While most of the disciples had run away and hid out of fear, some of Jesus’ female followers would stay with him to the end. These courageous Christian women couldn’t leave their Messiah. They see Jesus but he looks different. His eyes swollen, his beard missing hair, the bruises, the elegant robe draped around him. The humiliation was clear. But then came a brief breath of hope, Pilate shouts, “You brought me this man as one who was inciting the people to rebellion. I have examined him in your presence and have found no basis for your charges against him. Neither has Herod, for he sent him back to us; as you can see, he has done nothing to deserve death. Therefore, I will punish him and then release him.” The women gasp. They knew what this “punishment” was, a whip of metal pieces designed specifically for maximum pain, but before this injustice could even settle in, the injustice that the innocent, perfect Son of God could be abused in this way, made them tremble. But what happened next, no one could emotionally prepare for. The crowd begins to chant, “Away with this man! Release Barabbas!” “We want Barabbas, we want Barabbas!” This can’t be true, the crowd wants the worst criminal in Jerusalem’s prison, a rebel, and murderer? The more Pilate pleads, the more control he loses. Then a new chant begins, one that still leads Christians to tear up at the whisper of its sound, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” The women look at Jesus. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak. The God-man who raised the dead. The Word made flesh who spoke with an otherworldly authority is silent. All they could think was, “Do something, Jesus! Don’t just stand there! Do something!”
Has that thought ever crossed your mind or passed through your lips, “Do something, Jesus!” It’s a conversation with God so many have had, “Jesus, why does my sister have to go through surgery, couldn’t you just heal her?” “Jesus, why do you let that girl at school bully me?” “Jesus, why didn’t you stop the cancer I have?” “Jesus, why did you have to take my brother from me?” “Jesus, why do I still get prejudiced against because of my skin?” “Jesus, why didn’t you protect my husband or my wife in the line of duty?” “Jesus, why didn’t you do anything!”
Can you hear the echo behind each question? The subtle growl of the “roaring lion looking for someone to devour.” Satan is a master manipulator, the author of messiah misinformation. His existential drive is that you would one day join your voice with the crowd on that Good Friday and say to Jesus, “Get away from me!” He wants to distort your view of your Savior so that you think Jesus doesn’t care about the injustice and suffering you face. His sole purpose is for you to think Jesus will not and cannot do anything for you.
Once he’s gotten you there, then he has you in his sights. It’s the devil’s end game, that you go from thinking Jesus is a “do-nothing” God to thinking he is the cause of your pain in life, and that he doesn’t truly love you. Remember all the way back in the Garden of Eden? Satan was intent on convincing Adam and Eve that God was withholding his love from them. He tempted them to think that God was causing them the pain of not having the knowledge of good and evil and he persuaded them to believe that God didn’t really love them as much as they thought. There is no sweeter sound in Satan’s ears than to hear someone say, “Get away from me, Jesus.”
But Jesus will never walk away. Did you notice how Jesus doesn’t say a word as he experienced the worst injustice any human being has ever endured? Could it be that his “inaction” was really the most powerful thing he could’ve done? At any moment, Jesus could’ve snapped his fingers and gone back to heaven, rightfully leaving us to be condemned for our sins. Jesus, the Word made flesh, could’ve opened his mouth and convinced the crowd to let him be free. But you know what he does instead? He doesn’t move. He stands there. He will see God’s plan through. His love for you wouldn’t be denied. He wouldn’t give up. He would see his mission to bring you forgiveness, hope, and home through.
He won’t give up now. When we cry out to him, “Why didn’t you do anything Jesus?” he doesn’t awkwardly move away from us in shame. No. He climbs into those pits of injustice with us. He wraps his arms around us. He doesn’t go anywhere. He will never desert you. He will see you through. The injustices we face in life reveal to us how deeply Jesus loves us. After all, Jesus faced the worst humiliation and pain ever, but without doing so, you and I wouldn’t be here in church today, we wouldn’t be who we are, children of God. Could it be that without the injustice you have gone through, you wouldn’t have the greatest gifts this universe has ever known: grace, faith, identity and certain hope? Could it be some of our most treasured blessings came because Jesus walked through those dark chapters with us? Could it be without our pain, we wouldn’t know the depths of God’s love? Yes, yes, and yes!
Jesus will never leave you. He doesn’t move from that conviction. His goal has always been the same for your life: To bring you home. The injustices he allows are never done without purpose or to drive you away from him, but so that you run to him. Those injustices become the beautiful reminder that this world isn’t our home, that this world cannot satisfy what we’re longing for, that there is a place where we truly belong, a place that’s truly home.
There’s a song by Laura Story that captures this so perfectly: “What if my greatest disappointments or the aching of this life is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy and what if trials of this life, the rain, the storms, the hardest nights, are Your mercies in disguise?” They truly are. Those moments remind us of the most amazing thing we have that no injustice can take away: the fact that Jesus is carrying us through life. His grace will see us through. His love is unshakeable for you. He will never leave you.
His loving presence can’t help but inspire us to find the hurting in our lives, the people unjustly abused, the kid lost in foster care, the new widow, the friends struggling with gender identity, the child with deep emotional wounds, the addict, the teenage mother, the unborn, the ones without a voice, and the police officer with PTSD. It’s the adventure of a lifetime to bring Jesus’ presence into the lives of the hurting, to stare into the face of their injustice with the grace of Jesus leading our path. By grace, that’s what Christians have long done. We stay when disease is taking life after life. We stay when the grenades are going off. We stay at the side of a person everyone else has rejected. We stay because Jesus stays. We stay because we know the love of our God. We know because we too were rebels and criminals against God and he saved wretches like us. He found us, and now he leads us to find the lost, to climb in their pits, and point them to the light that no darkness can overcome. We stay. We speak. We love. In that way, we truly live.
Jesus always stays, and one day he will make everything right. Remember what the LORD said many centuries ago, “Forget the former things. Do not dwell in the past. See, I am doing a new thing…to give drink to my people I formed for myself that they may proclaim my name.” Jesus will see you through because he made you for himself, and one day he will show you the home you’ve been waiting for. No injustice can ever take away what God’s grace has given you. The truth stays the same. Amen.