Sometime the other week, a friend shared a video clip with me from a sermon by Pastor Michael Orokpo. In it, he spoke about how scholars and researchers have studied the physical death of Jesus Christ in detail. The video was about eight minutes long, but honestly, I couldn’t make it through to the end—it was that graphic and intense. Oh, how my Jesus went through it! He endured unimaginable suffering for you and me. Watching that video did two powerful things for me: it humbled me deeply and reignited my faith and confidence in Jesus.
In my personal space and season I’m in right now, it honestly feels like my faith is being stretched beyond the usual, and I can’t help but look forward to the testimonies. Watching that video stirred up two deep emotions in me: humility and faith. In this blog post, I want to focus more on the humility aspect.
That said, the faith it stirred in me came from imagining how much pain Jesus endured—so much pain—just so I wouldn’t have to. Isaiah 53 paints such a vivid picture of the suffering our Savior went through, all so we could live and live abundantly (John 10:10). So you see, my friend, when the enemy tries to shake your faith or make you question your identity in Christ, you can stand firm and speak truth. Declare verses like Isaiah 53:5 with confidence
Jesus was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon Him, And by His stripes we are healed.
Isaiah 53:5
You know, vividly imagining what Jesus went through on His way to the Cross—and on the Cross itself—can stir your faith, helping you to boldly declare and embrace the finished work of Christ over your life.
Now, to what I want to share in this blog post. There’s been some pettiness at my workplace that, honestly, had me fuming at first. The treatment felt unnecessary, demeaning, and just downright irritating. I was annoyed—no, more than annoyed, I was livid. It all felt so childish and beneath what anyone should have to endure. But even in that moment, I made up my mind: I won’t engage in drama, and I won’t start an argument. Amid that frustration, God spoke to me through His children’s ordeal in Egypt(Exodus chapter 1), which isn’t my focus today. As I watched that video explaining the death of my Jesus, a fresh awakening hit me. A deep, sobering awareness came over me: Jesus Christ—the King of kings—was humiliated and brutally assaulted by the very people He created.
I can’t even begin to imagine what went through His mind as He was stripped, beaten, and whipped—each lash tearing through His skin. Or the agony of the nails driven into His hands and feet. It humbled me to the core. Because in that moment, the petty and childish attitudes I faced at work suddenly felt so small. What once seemed like such a big deal paled in comparison to what Jesus willingly endured.
And you know, I believe this is a glimpse of what Apostle Paul spoke of in Philippians 3, when he wrote about truly knowing Christ: not just the power of His resurrection, but also the fellowship of His sufferings and being conformed to His death. I’m beginning to see that part of that “fellowship” might just be choosing humility, surrender, and silence—right in the midst of what feels unjust
Too often, as Christians, we focus on the abundant life Jesus Christ died to give us—the blessings, the victories, the purpose He mapped out for us. But we sometimes overlook the fellowship of His sufferings and the call to be conformed to His death. The life we now live in Christ is, in many ways, patterned after His. Our journeys may look different, but the thread of surrender, sacrifice, and obedience runs through them all.
I’ve been thinking about that lately, especially with some of the pettiness I’ve had to deal with at work. I could’ve easily responded with words, gotten into a bit of drama, and let my flesh have the final say. But is that really what Jesus would want from me? Is that how He would have responded?
The truth is, Jesus didn’t just die once on the Cross—He died to Himself over and over again. Starting in the garden of Gethsemane, He had His own will, but He laid it down to embrace the Father’s will. When the soldiers came for Him, He could’ve defended Himself—Peter certainly tried—but Jesus chose restraint. He didn’t retaliate. He went so far as to heal the man Peter wounded. That kind of response is humbling…and this is the kind of life we are called to live as Christians. It’s when we truly yield ourselves to the fellowship of His sufferings and are willing to be conformed to His death—even though it’s not easy or something we naturally look forward to-that we begin to experience the power of His resurrection, both here on earth and in His Kingdom.” When we truly give ourselves to the fellowship of His sufferings, conform to His death, which I know isn’t pleasant, nor do we look forward to then and only then would we truly experience the power of His resurrection here on earth and in His Kingdom.
This fellowship and conformity look different for each of us, showing up in various ways day by day. For Isaac, it meant walking away from wells he had labored to dig, handing them over to those envious of his success (Genesis 26:18-26). For Jacob, it meant enduring the deceit of his uncle Laban and leaving only when God told him to, rather than confronting the injustice (Genesis 31). For Joseph, it was choosing forgiveness toward his brothers despite their betrayal. For the apostles, it looked like enduring intense persecution at the hands of the Romans.
The list goes on—and it continues with you, with me, and with anyone called to walk this life of faith in Christ Jesus. I hope that as you read this, your heart is drawn to the Cross—the place where your redemption and liberty were fully paid for. May you come to learn of the Cross, to understand what it truly means to share in Christ’s suffering, and to live it out daily with the help and strength that only Jesus can give.
It’s important to note here that I’m not suggesting you suffer in silence or allow yourself to be mistreated. Please, by all means, seek wise counsel, talk to someone you trust, and most importantly, cry out to the Lord for direction and clarity. Like I briefly mentioned earlier, after I brought the situation to God in prayer, He spoke to me through Exodus chapter one. So I know I’m in good hands—and you will be too when you take it to Him.