Being a victim is real...but so is victory
Have you ever thought about the words victim and victory? I find it interesting that they both have the root v-i-c-t. Stick with me while I get all nerdy on you for a second. Victim comes from the Latin word victima, which means "person or animal killed as a sacrifice." The actual origin of the word victima is uncertain, but I'll stand with the great poet Ovid who notes its similarity to the word victus, meaning "conquered or defeated." On the flip side, we see that victory comes from the Latin word victoria, which is derived from vincere, meaning "to overcome, conquer."
We all have experiences in our lives when we are victims. We may find ourselves on the receiving end of an act of violence, or we may be harmed by circumstances beyond our control. Many of us have scars, physical and emotional, that remind us of these events. Having spent nearly half a century on this earth, I have my fair share of visible and invisible scars. The one on my left hand is from a hiking accident in which our entire family came much too close to being struck by lightning. The ones on my right hand are from a man siccing his dog on me as I attempted to deliver voter registration information to his door. I have another, that most won't see, from a lumpectomy. And then there's the one between my eyes from when I did a header down the stairs at 18-months-old. Scars are indeed reminders, but what they allow us to remember depends upon our perspective.
Jesus is the perfect example of a victim. He was, quite literally, a human sacrifice. He did not in any way deserve his fate. And yet, he died in the most horrific way possible. I've always found it interesting that he bore his scars even after his resurrection. Those scars validate his story. They attest not just to his brutal death, but to the power of his resurrection. He suffered, and his suffering was real. But his triumph is real, too!
Think about Thomas' reaction in John 20:25 to being told that Jesus is alive. Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe. The physical scars are the evidence that what Jesus did was real. He wasn't some ghost having a bit of a laugh with the disciples. He overcame the impossible. Jesus is not only the perfect victim, he is also the perfect victor. He overcame death, not just for himself, but for all of us.
My scars are also the validation of my story and God's place in it. God rescued my family from the face of a mountain during a ferocious storm. Being attacked by a dog was traumatic, but the event led directly to me getting a wonderful job. The lumpectomy scar reminds me of a time when I felt God's peace so deeply that I couldn't experience fear. This is where I choose to focus when I see my scars. When we understand that our scars are merely temporal, whereas Jesus' victory is eternal, the scars take on a different significance, pointing us to triumph.
Show the world those scars. Don't let them be a source of shame, and don't pretend they don't exist. They are part of your story. But don't forget that Jesus' story didn't end with those scars and neither does yours! You have a choice. Victim was never meant to be your identity. I love what Lisa Bevere says. "We need to stop being the professionally wounded."
So will you be conquered, or will you conquer? Do you choose to remain a victim or do you choose to become a victor? It's okay if that victory takes time. Even Jesus spent three days in the grave. Lazarus spent four. Go easy on yourself, the timeframe is in God's hands. I promise that your heavenly Father will be with you in the waiting, providing comfort and leading you on toward that place of triumph, if you'll let him. Are you willing to let your scars tell a different story? Are you willing to trust that your story is not over? Your resurrection is closer than you think, and I'm cheering you on.
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Photo credit: Brian Patrick Tagalog
