1 Peter 2:19-25, Acts 2:42-47
Ethel McClard Taylor was my great grandmother. She and my great grandfather Ray Taylor lived in Baron Plains, Tennessee. Mama Taylor wrote in a diary everyday. A cousin recently sent me the pages of her entry for July 4, 1950. Mama Taylor should have been able to record all about the happy day’s events. Her daughter and family had come for the day to enjoy a picnic at the creek. That they had eaten wonderful food and the kids had a great time. She might have told us that two of her grandchildren, Shirley and Fred, begged to ride in the back of Ray’s pick up truck back to their house at the end of the day. But instead, her entry begins, “Alas and Alack! Our picnic day turned out so sad I can’t even record the good time…”
You see, my mom and her younger brother fell out of the back of their grandfather’s pick up truck on a country road when he rounded a corner and hit an unexpected pothole. It bounced them right out. Fred, about 5 years old at the time, thankfully was not hurt, but my mother, a petite 14 year old, fell in the road and when Papa Taylor hit the breaks, the tire skidded over the top of her right dominant hand. She was taken to see the local doctor who said she needed to go to Vanderbilt immediately. There she received a skin graft from the middle of her torso to the top of her hand. It was the first graft that surgeon had ever done. She spent the month of July in an unairconditioned hospital ward, in an upper body cast, allowing the graft to adhere to the hand and her other injuries to tendons and ligaments to heal.
She regained nearly all the function in her hand. It works almost perfectly, but it looks strange. Where you would normally see the veins and bones in the top of your hand under a thin layer of skin, she has a thick, fat piece of skin, scarring around her thumb, wrist, and all around the graft. And she has a terrible scar on her stomach from where they took the graft. She’s had these scars from that accident most of her life and a lifetime of comments from strangers asking what in the world happened to her hand. She tolerated the questions and told the short or long version of the story many times. Though she was scarred for life, she lived with her scars with very little dis-ease from them, from all I could tell. Living with her scars was still living and obviously, things that day could have been much worse! I believe that was never lost on her.
Because no one is exempt from suffering in this life, no one escapes this world unharmed. Every one of us must live with our pain, our scars, our woundedness. The question, as Richard Rohr says, is will we transmit our pain, or let it be transformed through the cross of Christ (where all suffering was transformed).
In Allen Levi’s novel, Theo of Golden, Theo is an older Portuguese gentleman “with a lilt in his voice and a hint of a smile always on his lips.”[1] He engages the unsuspecting people in the small town of Golden, Georgia in a grand experiment when he buys a local artist’s portraits and bestows them to their “rightful owner” – the person in the picture. Theo is cautioned about doing this early on. His generosity could be misunderstood. His hand-written invitations could seem too forward. His personal bestowals – too awkward, too intrusive, too intimate for perfect strangers. But Theo is determined and the bestowals are almost all met with curiosity, intrigue, surprise, joy. And then one day, an invitation goes wrong.
Theo invites a woman named Clarice to meet him to receive her portrait. He sees in her face, worthy of a magazine cover, something mysterious, cautious. Maybe it’s sadness, maybe it’s fear. Theo arrives at the fountain and takes a seat on the bench, hoping she will come. But instead of Clarice, a man named Cleave Torber shows up. He descends on Theo like a dark cloud. He holds out the letter and more like an accusation than a question asks Theo if he’s the one who sent this to his girlfriend. The exchange goes south quickly. Cleave is loud and threatening and won’t hear anything Theo has to say in explanation for the invitation. When Theo innocently offers the portrait to Cleave no strings attached, Cleave snatches it away and slams it to the ground. Glass breaks inside the brown wrapping paper. Cleave stomps the portrait twice, grinding the heel of his boot. Theo loses his cool at this reaction and spouts a few threats of his own – a mixture of Portuguese and English. The desecration of the portrait had awakened and enlivened Theo’s temper. A passerby intervenes and prevents things from getting further out of hand. “What a shame! What a disgrace!” Theo exclaims. For a portrait to be ruined beyond repair was a desecration of something sacred to Theo.[2] If Cleave had this kind of reaction to someone’s harmless interest in Clarice, what else was he capable of?
There are wounds and scars showing up all over this interaction. We can only imagine where Cleave’s jealousy and rage took root in his past. We can only wonder why Theo’s reaction is so strong. Anger like that ultimately manifests from a place of pain. And that pain gets transmitted quickly in this interaction.
The Apostle Peter has experience with transmitting pain. Before becoming a witness to Jesus’ suffering on the cross, Peter’s way through pain was to transmit it. But following Jesus to the end meant learning that every experience in life, even painful ones, may be transformed by God’s sacrificial love for us through his Son.
Today’s reading from First Peter, begins in verse 19, “For it is commendable if someone bears up under the pain of unjust suffering…” “For” is a signal that something else has been said before this. Reviewing verse 18, we modern listeners understand why it gets left off: “Slaves, submit by accepting the authority of your masters with all respect. Do this not only to good and kind masters but also to those who are harsh.” [3]
Why did Peter appeal to these Gentile Christian slaves and ask them to endure pain at the hands of their oppressors? Peter preached about the benefits of the cross of Jesus, “by his wounds you have been healed,” by his detainment, you have been set free. In the Acts passage, we hear about the beautiful ways the early church cooperated and shared resources equally. There is to be no hierarchy among believers. Yet these lines in his letter seem at odds with those teachings. But let us remember in the context of Peter’s letter, his readers are in the minority. Peter appeals to the slaves in Roman households to be loyal to their masters based on safeguarding the Gospel of Jesus that lives in them. As Christian exiles in an imperial society, they were to live ethical, moral, and responsible lives because it was a matter of their own life and death in their world.[4] In their submission to Rome, they are imitating Jesus’ upside down Kingdom. They are Christians liberated to love their enemies.[5]
Maybe it would also help us to remember a couple of things about Peter as a disciple. When they were praying in the Garden of Gethsemane and the soldiers came to arrest Jesus, who grabbed a sword in defense of Jesus and struck the high priest’s servant on the ear? Peter. Transmitting his pain. When Jesus was arrested and the disciples were afraid for their lives, who swore at being asked if he knew him? Who denied being one of Jesus’ closest disciples? Peter. Trying to escape his pain.
Being a follower of Jesus is complicated. Especially when one is poor, or sick, or hungry, and worse – under the boot of an oppressive and violent authority – like the Roman Empire, or a brood of vipers like the Sanhedrin. Peter, through blood, sweat, and tears has learned (the hard way?) to follow the example of Jesus, who never cursed or retaliated when he was tormented by his oppressors. Instead, through prayer and humility, Peter models: followers should let God handle their battles so they can remain steady in their faith and trust in the One who can withstand anything.[6]
Jesus Christ, the “shepherd of our souls,” is always looking out for us. Hard passages like this one are not meant to make us submissive or passive under evil oppression. Instead, our faith and our sense of justice needs to fuel our voice, our power to resist and speak out, to challenge those in power to respect and dignify every human (oppressed and free).
This week, I have a letter from Cheryl Askew, the principal of an elementary school named for another human who endured the pain of oppression and still kept doing what he knew was right. Martin Luther King Jr. Elementary is the school for which we pack food bags in the fall and spring, so that every child leaves for fall break or spring break with supplemental nutrition. Like the recipients of Peter’s letter, families, teachers, and children in our schools are subjected to authorities who rule by economics more than education and politics more than excellent programs. Our schools need allies and advocates.
Dear Weatherly Heights Baptist Church Family,
On behalf of the students, families, and staff at Martin Luther King Jr. Elementary, I want to express our deepest gratitude for your ongoing presence in our community. As we look toward the future, we are excited about the possibility of deepening our bond to better support the “whole child” and the families who call our neighborhood home.
Here are a few ways we believe Weatherly Heights could become an even more impactful partner and advocate for our school:
1. Targeted Student Mentorship & Literacy
Our students thrive when they have consistent, positive role models. Beyond general volunteering, we invite members of your congregation to join a structured mentorship or “Reading Buddies” program. Spending just 30 minutes a week with a student can dramatically improve their confidence and academic trajectory.
2. Supporting Our Teachers’ Wellness
Our educators work tirelessly to provide a safe and nurturing environment. Weather Heights could serve as a powerful ally by “Adopting a Grade Level” or providing occasional “Appreciation Breaks”such as stocking the teacher’s lounge with healthy snacks or providing classroom supplies—to ensure our teachers feel the community’s support behind them.
3. Family Resource Advocacy
Many of our families face hurdles with food security, clothing, or digital access. By partnering with our school counselor to host targeted resource drives or providing a space for family workshops, you can help us bridge the gap between school and home, ensuring every child comes to class ready to learn.
4. Community Voice and Presence
We invite you to be a visible advocate at our school events, from PTA meetings to seasonal festivals. Simply having your members present and engaged sends a powerful message to our students that their education is valued by the leaders and neighbors they respect.
We are so thankful for your heart for service. I would welcome the opportunity to meet and discuss how we can put these ideas into action to create a brighter future for the children of MLK Elementary.
With appreciation,
Cheryl H. Askew, Principal
” The time is always right to do what is right” -Martin Luther King Jr.
Jesus Christ overcame death through his resurrection. And even still, the scars on his body remained. We follow him best when we become stewards of our own scars. The way through our own pain, is not picking up the sword, but through relieving the pain and suffering of our neighbors. Having experienced hunger, or poverty, or trauma, or grief can make us better allies if we’ll let God’s love transform the pain inside us. “By his wounds you have been healed,” made whole. That is good news.
Theo doesn’t stop the bestowals when one goes wrong. He carries on.
If he had allowed Cleave’s reaction to put an end to these sacred bestowals, these individual blessings of portraits, THAT would have been a desecration.
People who love wholeheartedly have collected a few scars. There was an old gospel song that called them “trophies of grace.” If we allow our pain, our scars to hold us back, to prevent us from moving forward and from loving and serving others who are also covered in “scars,” –that would discredit the One who overcame the grave, scars and all.
May we become stewards of our scars and may they make us more like Christ. Amen.
[1] Levi, Allen, Theo of Golden, ATRIA Simon & Schuster 2023
[2] Ibid. chapter 37
[3] 1 Peter 2:18-19, Common English Bible
[4] Kamudzandu, Israel, Working Preacher commentary, 1 Peter 2:19-25, 2026
[5] https://bibleproject.com/guides/book-of-1-peter/
[6] Kamudzandu