We Cannot Understand What We Have Not Lived

Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil— and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death. For surely it is not angels he helps, but Abraham’s descendants. For this reason he had to be made like them, fully human in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people. Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.

Hebrews 2:14-18

Part of the great mystery of Jesus is why it was ever necessary for Him to come into the world and live as a flesh and blood human, a mortal with all of the needs and presumably desires earthly mortals tend to possess.

Why was it necessary for Jesus to live as a man, and then to suffer and ultimately die as a man?

How does Jesus’ death on the Cross open the way for us to receive God’s forgiveness? How does His death redeem us even to this day from our daily sins?

This much is certain: God, being God, can offer forgiveness whenever He sees fit, and to whom He sees fit. God can, should He so choose, wipe our slate clean at any time, with or without Jesus’ death on the Cross. God is God, and all power is His to wield.

This must be so, because to say otherwise is to place a limitation on God. If we put limits on God, if we seek to impose a definition upon God, at the foundational levels of faith we would then be denying God. If we impose limits on God, we are declaring ourselves to be greater than God. This obviously is both wrong and sinful, and since God is without limits we are forced to conclude that Jesus death on the Cross at Calvary is of no practical use for God.

If Jesus’ death on the Cross is not about God, then His death must be entirely about us. God does not require Jesus to be crucified; we mortals do.

But why is this so? Why do we need Jesus to suffer and die on the cross?

I believe part of the reason lies in our reflexive reliance on Mosaic Law. We do well to remember that Jesus Himself said in the Sermon on the Mount that no part of that Law would be changed, but that all parts of that Law would be fulfilled. As Leviticus spells out in detail what offerings are to be made before God to atone for sin, if we are to maintain Mosaic Law as our guide for apprehending God’s Law, we need there to be some sacrifice, some offering to be made before God in atonement for our sins before we can accept as valid any offering of forgiveness even from God. To do otherwise would be to set aside the Law, which we must never do.

Jesus, while on earth, being the earthly manifestation of God’s only begotten Son, became the perfect sacrifice on the Cross, and therefore the ultimate sacrifice. By offering Himself up for suffering and death on the Cross, Jesus became that sacrificial offering by which the Law is indeed fulfilled. As Jesus’ death fulfilled the Law, not only are we redeemed, but we are free within our own minds to embrace God’s forgiveness without abandoning God’s Law as a guide for our future moral living.

Yet this points up another reality about why Jesus came to earth and lived as a flesh and blood human: By walking among us and living as men do, Jesus showed us that even flawed, imperfect beings can lead righteous lives.

When Jesus on the Cross asked God to forgive those who had Him crucified, He lived out the standard He placed before Peter in Matthew 18, where Peter is told to forgive his brother “up to seventy times seven” for all the wrongs others might do to him.

When Jesus prayed in the garden at Gethsemane just before His arrest, He was not merely fearful of what was about to happen, but downright terrified—in Luke’s narrative we read of Jesus “sweating blood”. Jesus did not want to endure the agony He knew was about to come. He wanted to avoid it if at all possible. Luke tells us this explicitly.

Yet Jesus endured that agony, up to and including His physical death on the Cross.

While we are not called to endure such pain, humiliation, and agonizing death, we are called to do things which are hard. We are called to do things we do not want to do. We are called to perform difficult tasks, to face challenges and confront the possibility of failure. We might even find ourselves being called to endure failure based on this or that yardstick.

None of us want to endure failure. As a rule we prefer not to be faced with even the possibility of failure. I know for myself the prospect of failure is close to terrifying—it has been the experience of my life that failure is weakness, and weak people get hurt by everyone around them.

Yet I must face the possibility of failure or I cannot overcome the challenges which lie between who I am now and who I mean to be tomorrow. I must face up to my weaknesses before I can overcome them and replace them with strengths.

I must face the possibility of failure, and perhaps even endure failure, in order to walk the path God has chosen for me. In those moments, I might not be sweating blood, but I am most assuredly praying to God that I will not fail. I am absolutely asking God for that cup of failure to pass.

Could Jesus have given into anger and fear while enduring the torments that preceded His Crucifixion and death? The Gospels do not tell us one way or the other, yet the mere fact of His prayers in Gethsemane right before His arrest certainly lends some support to that possibility.

The Gospels do tell us that Jesus did not give into anger and fear. Jesus endured all the torments appointed for Him, that He might fulfill the Law for us.

Jesus—the flesh and blood Jesus—faced the agony He feared and ultimately triumphed. When we face the agonies and challenges we fear, oftentimes we also triumph.

Thus we have in Jesus not just the sacrifice which atones for all our sins, but the example that tells us that we, even as flesh and blood humans, can rise up, can grow, and can overcome the limitations which arise out of this world and our own sinful conduct.

Yet the flesh and blood Jesus provides us with another example, one that is both humbling and empowering: in Jesus we see the reality that we cannot understand torments and fears which we have not experienced. Jesus could speak with authority during His ministry because He was living the same life as everyone who heard Him speak. Living that same life, He could understand all the fears and doubts within them.

In a similar vein, if we set out to minister to others, we dare not presume to understand anything in their lives which we have not experienced in our own. We cannot claim to understand the bleakness of drug addiction unless we ourselves have endured that same bleakness. We cannot claim to understand the particular hell that is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder unless we ourselves are in that same hell.

We might want to understand, but we cannot understand. That which we have not experienced is eternally beyond our true understanding and comprehension.

Yet if we free ourselves from the temptation to “understand” what is forever beyond our understanding, we are then free to meet others where they are, and to hear what they have to say about substance abuse, PTSD, or whatever other issue is afflicting them in that moment.

If we release the futile desire to “understand” others, we can enter into an honest and authentic communion with them.

If we admit that we can never understand the sufferings of others which we have not ourselves endured, we can minister to others, and potentially aid them in overcoming those sufferings.

If we are mindful both of what we do understand and what we do not, we open ourselves to greater listening and better communication with others.

What each of us understands is that which each of us has lived. Yet if we are present in each moment, we may still use a part of that understanding to be present with others in every moment.

My prayer for myself, and for all of us, is that we may be ever more mindful of what we do understand, and what we do not. I pray that each of us will find the wisdom to draw upon our own understandings to be ever more present with those around us, and that by so doing, we find ways to minister to their needs, to heal their hurts, and bind up their wounds, psychic and otherwise.