Tag: Mark 15

Heralds of Redemption: How Women Reversed Eve’s Fall

The resurrection story holds an often-overlooked moment of redemption that goes all the way back to Eden. On that early morning, while the men hid in fear, a small group of women went to the tomb of Jesus, carrying spices and love for their crucified Teacher. What they found was earth-shattering: the stone was rolled away, the tomb was empty, and the angel of the Lord declared, “He is not here; He has risen!” They were entrusted with a message to share with the world—the first proclamation of the resurrection.

This moment is particularly significant in light of the creation account. In Genesis, Eve was deceived and led humanity into sin. Now, at the resurrection, it is women who are first to bring news of life, reversing the direction of the Fall and symbolizing a new beginning. While Eve’s decision led to separation from God, the women at the tomb brought news of a restored relationship with Him. Here we see God, in His redemptive power, choose women to be His first witnesses—an act that shattered cultural norms and spoke volumes about His value for each person, regardless of status or gender.

This account also calls us to be bold. Just as the women did not let fear or societal expectations silence them, we are encouraged to carry the message of Jesus’ victory over death, trusting that God equips the unlikely and gives voice to the humble. And just as Eve’s mistake didn’t define humanity’s end, our past does not define us. Christ’s resurrection offers a new beginning, calling us to proclaim the life we have received.

Today, may we walk in the steps of those first women, bold in our message, transformed by His victory, and unafraid to carry the truth of the resurrection wherever we go.

The Wounded Healer

During college, I first encountered The Wounded Healer by Henri Nouwen. My program director — Dr. Carl Strutt — put it on the reading list for one of his classes. At the time, I didn’t fully connect with it. Despite my relative poverty growing up in a broken family, I didn’t really understand “wounded-ness” per se. Other than the death of my grandfather when I was in Grade 3, I had never experienced anything that “grieved” me. But as the years went by, I found myself returning to the ideas in Nouwen’s book, especially as I experienced struggles of my own and walked alongside others in theirs. I began to understand the power in acknowledging our own pain and the way it allows us to empathize deeply with those who are hurting. Now, I have come to appreciate The Wounded Healer as a valuable perspective on how God’s love works through us, especially in our weaknesses.

In his account of Jesus’ suffering, John shows us how Christ embodied this idea of the wounded healer in its fullest form. Jesus wasn’t only a wounded healer; He became the very suffering that would ultimately redeem. On the cross, bearing the agony of the physical, emotional, and spiritual wounds inflicted on Him, He extended Himself entirely to meet our deepest needs for healing. The wounds of Christ were no minor affliction; they were wounds that reached to the depths of His being, and by them, we are healed (Isaiah 53:5). Jesus took on the ultimate brokenness to bring us wholeness.

In Nouwen’s language, we might say that Jesus embraced the full weight of human suffering, making His brokenness a bridge of healing for us. Just as Jesus bore the punishment we deserved, we can follow Him by recognizing that our own wounds, while painful, can also be avenues of compassion. Instead of masking our brokenness, we can choose to allow God to work through it to reach others.

So if today finds you carrying wounds — whether from past hurts, recent disappointments, or anything in between — consider how God might be inviting you to use those places of pain to bring comfort to others. Christ took on wounds for us, and He invites us to participate in His ministry by reaching out to others, not in spite of our wounds, but through them.

Real Justice

In the trials of Jesus, we witness a profound failure of justice. Jesus, innocent in every sense, is passed between leaders who recognize His innocence yet bow to the pressure of an angry mob. Human justice, whether in the hands of Pilate, Herod, or the Sanhedrin, fails Him utterly. Jesus stands silent before men who twist their authority, and in doing so, He knows intimately the depths of injustice that can plague our world. For anyone who has suffered from unfair treatment, false accusation, or a corrupt system, this moment in Jesus’ life reveals a Savior who has felt the same.

Despite the failings of human justice, Jesus’ response shows us a vital lesson: He didn’t place His hope in these earthly systems, and neither should we. Instead, He entrusted Himself to God, the ultimate Judge, who sees all things rightly and promises perfect justice. Jesus knew the Father’s justice was a surer foundation than any human court, and so He endured the trials set before Him, holding fast to the knowledge that God’s justice would ultimately prevail.

When we face injustice, it’s tempting to pin our hopes on human institutions, to believe that with enough advocacy, attention, or influence, things will be set right. But while we work to seek justice where we can, we’re reminded that ultimate justice belongs to God alone. Human systems, as important as they may be, will always have flaws and limitations. They are imperfect reflections of the justice that only God Himself can deliver.

In our lives, the challenge is to trust that God sees and knows our situation fully, even when justice seems delayed. Psalm 89:14 tells us, “Righteousness and justice are the foundation of Your throne; steadfast love and faithfulness go before You.” This assurance means that no wrong will go unaddressed in God’s time and plan. He is the Judge who will not let evil win, who hears every cry, and who will make all things right. Until then, we are called to follow Jesus’ example, trusting God in our own experiences of injustice, keeping our eyes on the One whose justice is flawless.

Zeal Gone Awry

The trial of Jesus before the Sanhedrin is one of the most tragic displays of religious zeal gone wrong. Convinced of their duty to protect God’s honor, the religious leaders allowed their passions and mob mentality to override justice, mercy, and reason. What should have been a trial became a forum for slander, manipulation, and violence, with many of the leaders and bystanders becoming part of a vicious cycle. Jesus, the very person they were supposed to recognize as the Messiah, was instead labeled a blasphemer and beaten in their outrage.

We all have passions and causes we care deeply about. In fact, a righteous zeal can be powerful when we’re moved by a godly cause. But zeal without humility and discernment can lead us to the same dangers faced by the Sanhedrin. Their unwavering conviction left no room for compassion or introspection. How often do we see, even in ourselves, that good intentions and passionate defense of our beliefs can devolve into defensiveness, anger, or even cruelty when we feel challenged?

The actions of the Sanhedrin remind us to remain humble, recognizing that zeal for truth or righteousness must be tempered with God’s Spirit. Jesus taught us to turn the other cheek, to walk with humility, and to love even our enemies. When we lose sight of these teachings, our own zeal can go awry, blinding us to the heart of God’s message and turning us into people we would later be ashamed to recognize.

We’re called to balance conviction with compassion, courage with humility, and action with prayer. May we be passionate for God’s kingdom and its values, but may we also be vigilant, that we never sacrifice our character in the process. When our hearts are governed by the love of Christ, we can stand firm in the truth without losing our way to the passions that seek to rule us.

What is Casting Lots Anyway?

Just a brief explainer for today.

We see casting lots pop up 25 times in the Bible. The first is God giving directions to Aaron in Leviticus 16:7-9, the final one is the nomination of Mathias in Acts 1:26, and the most secular is the dividing of Jesus’ clothes in Matthew 27:35, Mark 15:24-25, Luke 23:34, and John 19:23-24. I always sort of pictured is as drawing straws, but it was literally rolling dice, and that’s how the NET Bible translates it.

If this seems random to you, I can certainly understand why, but Solomon assures us:

The dice are thrown into the lap, but their every decision is from the Lord. 

Proverbs 16:33, NET

1 Chronicles 23-25 | 123/365