Taking Shelter in the Wounds of Jesus - Part 2

Secondly, the truth of God’s protection. The wounds of Jesus not only bring us forgiveness but also protect us against the assaults of our spiritual enemies. (Such protection is not necessarily measured in earthly or temporal terms.) Thus Paul who stated that “nothing can separate us from the love of God” (Romans 8:37-39) was cruelly martyred. Many others who affirmed that their spiritual safety was in Jesus were also put to death.

But the fiery darts of the evil one cannot ultimately harm God’s children. Cleland McAfee wrote a hymn that emphasised this truth, after two of his nieces died of diphtheria:

There is a place of quiet rest,

Near to the heart of God.

A place where sin cannot molest,

Near to the heart of God.

Thirdly, the truth of God’s empathy. When we pass by a poor beggar in ragged clothes, sitting by the road-side, we may feel sympathy for him – and drop a coin in his cup. But most likely, we do not feel any empathy for him. That is because most of us have never had any personal experience of begging on a street-corner, so we don’t know what it would feel like. We have no idea as to what beggars fill their minds with, what they worry about, or how they take care of their needs.

To empathise is to feel with the other person. This is possible when we have learned to identify with the other person and are familiar with his or her thoughts and feelings. The best way this can happen is to have been in that same position ourselves. A widow can empathise with one who is newly widowed. A former cancer patient can show empathy to another cancer patient.

It is in this sense that taking shelter in the wounds of Jesus brings us to divine empathy. God is not a being who simply sympathises with and pities us. When we take shelter in the wounds of Jesus, we find refuge in the limitlessly profound empathy of the God who not only suffered for us, but also suffers with us.

We can take momentary comfort in the well-intentioned words and actions of friends, but when friends are left behind in the lonely journey of personal suffering, the wounded Lord remains with us. There is no comfort like His wounded and healing presence.

It is ironic that the safest place is not made up of the strongest steel, designed with the most elaborate electronic wizardry or guarded by the best trained army. The safest place in the universe is the place where the greatest wounds have been inflicted – where we also find divine empathy and company. We are safe there, and nothing has power to snatch us from those wounded hands where we can find ultimate safety and understanding (John 10:29).

Those wounds of God have gone through death and risen victoriously and they testify to the love and power of God in which we find eternal salvation and comfort.

John Wesley heard some good advice that day from his Moravian friend. Soon after, he wrote the hymn, ‘I Thirst, Thou Wounded Lamb of God’ (a translation from four German hymns) and we know that he made good use of that advice.

I thirst, Thou wounded Lamb of God,

To wash me in thy cleansing Blood,

To dwell within thy Wounds; then

Pain is sweet, and Life or Death is Gain.

As I write this, I have been diagnosed to have pancreatic cancer, and I am privileged to know more deeply what it means to take shelter in the wounds of our Lord Jesus. (Update: Thankfully, the Lord answered the prayers of His people. From a second opinion, the diagnosis was later changed to something less serious.)

Discussion Questions:

We feel guilty about our sins – and rightly so. How can we find shelter in the wounds of Jesus when we face such guilt? But there are times when the conscience is dysfunctional. Discuss 1 John 3:19-20. How can one take shelter in the wounds of Jesus when faced with the torment of a malfunctioning and condemning conscience?

Why is there comfort in the wounds of Jesus like nowhere else? Think of moments in your life where you have found such divine empathy that your responses in trouble and crises can best be described as supernatural.