He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth. — Isaiah 53:7 (ESV)
I don’t like to be accused of something I haven’t done, told by someone else what my motives are, nor given a chance to explain myself.
It’s human nature to fight for our rights. We want justice. Jesus had every reason to want nothing less from his inquisitors. His arrest was illegal and his trial, a sham. And how about his treatment? From 21st century sensibilities, it was a violation of human rights.
He did nothing wrong, nor anything out of self-interest. Had he explained himself, it wouldn’t be to justify wrong, shift blame, or manipulate sympathies.
He simply kept silent.
It wasn’t passivity or weakness, it wasn’t for a lack of words, it wasn’t backwardness that failed to perceive the agenda of others. He could have ordered fire from heaven upon them, called 10,000 angels to his rescue, or opened their minds with persuasive words like he did for two confused disciples on the road to Emma’s.
He didn’t. He faced death on a cross because we couldn’t.
He wasn’t caught off guard or tricked. He stood coolly because he was determined to save stubbornly sinful people; people as resistant to love as crayon drawings are to watercolors. It wasn’t just for people back then, but for people, today, equally determined to go their own way, do their own thing, insist on their own definition of the pursuit of happiness.
He kept silent because he loved us.
© 2016 David Harlen Brooks | All rights reserved.
Credit: painting by Antonio Ciseri
