By Dr. Kristen Barnes-Holiday, Contributing Writer
Recently, I read a piece that essentially illuminated how many folk find joy in acknowledging Jesus’ Resurrection yet shy away from the pain that He experienced. I pondered this assertion, and honestly, I thought about this for several days before eventually realizing that only privilege would allow a saint to bask in Jesus’ rising without even thoroughly digesting or blinking an eye at His pain. And as I examined this thought even closer, I decided that my positionally as a Black woman–thick-lipped, nappy-haired–allows me to see Jesus through a unique lens; one that is multidimensional, filled with joy and simultaneous pain; one that centers oppression and marginalization, often biblically and otherwise justified by His adverse beliefs and ethic appearance; one that is empathetic and works in the capacity of Caregiver yet He is cared for both earthly and eternally.
But I get stuck at Jesus’ pain. Yes, I love that He rose. And of course I get excited about Him granting us life eternally. But the pain and suffering that Jesus endured to give Christians the ultimate gift of salvation is front and center in my mind. Understanding and embracing my Blackness, both historically and contemporarily, has forced me to first identify with Jesus’ suffering followed by His triumphs.
I think of my great-great-great-grandmother, who was a slave, and though I’ve seen her picture and know her story, we’ve never met. However, I’m inclined to believe that during a time when she lost all of her children to the slave trade, was likely given an augmented form of the Bible, and endured repeated abuse, she only had the Lord to cling to in times of great distress.
The pain that she experienced, though unimaginable, likely helped her identify her human existence with Jesus’; He suffered, and so did she and He also experienced a great reward at the end of His suffering and therefore perhaps she believed that she would as well. Jesus was my ancestors’ anchor as they endured the struggles associated with slavery, Jim Crow and even today as we navigate corporate workplaces, home ownership journeys and beyond. Generationally, we’ve been taught that if we have nothing else we have faith; that when hard times arise God is still God; that Jesus endured so that we might have life everlasting and we take this to heart; that Jesus’ suffering was not in vain, and we, too, believe that ours isn’t either.
Our grandmothers, Big Ma’s and ancestors passed down wisdom, but they also gifted us the importance of maintaining faith and keeping the larger picture in mind when adverse circumstances arise. Through my great-grandmother’s lens, and her matriarchs, pain was viewed only as a means to Gods blessings. Jesus’ pain led to our salvation and my great-great-great grandmothers pain led to becoming a free woman and finding all of her children except 1.
As we’ve recently celebrated Resurrection Sunday, we spent time reveling in Jesus’ Rising from the tomb, but let’s not ever forget the pain that He endured as He lived and died on the cross.
Love and blessings…
Dr. Kristen Barnes-Holiday, Ph.D., is a professor of English at Wayne County Community College District, a second-year divinity student at Duke University, and a Christian blogger. In addition, she is a teacher, preacher, and lifelong student of the Word of Jesus Christ.
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