The Path of Loving Solidarity

To follow Jesus is to embrace a path of loving solidarity. It is not merely an intellectual pursuit or a set of doctrinal beliefs to uphold; it is a living, breathing commitment to the world as it is—broken, suffering, and in need of healing. To follow Him is to step into the world with eyes wide open to its pain, its joy, and its deep, unyielding need for love and transformation. It is a call to recognize that true love is not passive or theoretical but embodied and active. To follow Him is to walk the road He walked, and in doing so, to become His hands and feet in this world.

From the moment He was born, Jesus entered the human condition in the most humble and vulnerable of circumstances. He was born into poverty, in a stable, surrounded by the lowly and the outcast. His first moments were spent in a place of discomfort and humility, marking the beginning of His radical identification with the poor, the oppressed, and the marginalized. He came not as a king in splendor, but as one who would identify with those who suffer, those who are cast aside by society. It is through this humble birth that He began His life in solidarity with the suffering of the world (Luke 2:7).

As He grew, He was not merely a child of divine nature; He was fully human, growing in wisdom and stature, (Luke 2:52) experiencing the challenges and complexities of human life. Jesus was not detached from the world around Him; He lived it, felt it, and understood its pains. The wisdom He gained was not one of superiority but one of deep, compassionate insight into the human condition. He was growing in both mind and spirit, fully embracing His mission to bring healing to a broken world. It was through His very human experiences that He began to understand the depth of what He was called to do: to bring the fullness of God’s love into a world that desperately needed it.

When Jesus was baptized by John in the Jordan River, something profoundly transformative took place. His baptism was not a moment of repentance for sin, as it was for others, but a moment of identification with humanity’s need for redemption. By submitting to baptism, Jesus fully entered into the human experience, taking on the weight of the world’s sin, suffering, and brokenness. He was not just symbolically washed clean; He was publicly affirming His mission to be with and for the people—every single one of them, from the rich to the poor, from the righteous to the sinful. In this act, He did not separate Himself from the brokenness of the world; He fully embraced it. The heavens opened, and the voice of God declared, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17). But even then, the true nature of His mission was clear: to love, to heal, to suffer, and to give Himself fully for others.

And then came the wilderness. After His baptism, Jesus was led into the desert by the Spirit, where He fasted and prayed for forty days and nights. Here, He confronted the deepest temptations of the human heart: the temptation to control, to dominate, to take power, and to assert Himself in ways that might have been more expedient or self-serving. But Jesus rejected these temptations, choosing instead to fully surrender to God’s will. He released the illusion of control, of power, and of personal glory, choosing instead the path of humility, of self-emptying love. In the desert, He learned to let go of all ego-driven attachments, and in doing so, He embraced the fullness of His mission to serve, not to be served (Matthew 4:1-11).

From the wilderness, Jesus emerged with a clarity of purpose. He had faced the darkness of temptation and come through it stronger and more focused. He was not a king seeking dominance, nor a prophet seeking fame, but a servant who had come to heal, to teach, and to suffer in solidarity with humanity. His message was not one of separation or exclusivity but of unity and love for all people. The kingdom of God, He said, was at hand, and it was not a kingdom of wealth, power, or political control. It was a kingdom of love, of justice, of compassion, and of deep, abiding solidarity with those who were broken and suffering. It was a kingdom that had no room for selfishness, arrogance, or exclusion. And it was a kingdom that invited everyone—especially those who were least in the eyes of the world—into its embrace (Matthew 4:17).

Jesus’ teachings were radical, not because they were new, but because they turned the world’s values upside down. He called the poor blessed, the meek to inherit the earth, and the peacemakers to be called children of God. His was a vision of a new world order where love and justice reigned, not might and power. He spoke of loving enemies, forgiving those who hurt you, and caring for the most vulnerable members of society. His teachings were grounded in an understanding that to love is to act, to move beyond words to deeds, and to engage deeply in the suffering of the world. Jesus didn’t just preach from a distance; He lived what He taught. He reached out to the sick, the outcast, and the sinner. He healed the lepers, ate with tax collectors, and welcomed the brokenhearted. He did not see them as separate from Himself, but as His brothers and sisters, deserving of love, care, and dignity (Matthew 5:3-12; Matthew 9:36).

But His message was not only about teaching; it was about serving. His entire life was an example of service—a service that knew no boundaries. He healed the sick, restored sight to the blind, and raised the dead. He broke bread with those who had no food and comforted those who were in grief. He did not just speak words of comfort from a safe distance; He entered into the pain of others, shared their burdens, and gave Himself fully to them. His solidarity was not abstract or theoretical—it was deeply embodied and real. And in all His actions, He pointed to the love of God that was willing to go to any length, even death, to restore humanity to its true self (Matthew 14:13-21; John 11:35).

But the ultimate expression of His solidarity with the suffering of the world came when He chose the path of the cross. Jesus knew that His mission would lead to rejection, betrayal, and, ultimately, death. But He did not shy away from it. He knew that His suffering, His death, would be the ultimate act of love and solidarity with the human condition. On the cross, He did not curse those who crucified Him, nor did He retreat into anger or bitterness. Instead, He prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). In that moment, He identified with the pain and brokenness of all humanity—those who had wronged Him and those who had wronged others. He was willing to enter into the deepest suffering so that humanity might be restored, healed, and reconciled to God.

His death was not the end of the story, however. Three days later, He rose from the dead. But His resurrection was not just a victory over death; it was a declaration that love—true, sacrificial, self-giving love—has the final word. Not even death itself could defeat love. The resurrection was a vindication of everything He had lived and taught. It was a confirmation that His solidarity with the suffering of the world was not in vain, and that God’s love cannot be stopped, even by the most terrible of human actions (Matthew 28:5-10).

To follow Jesus is to follow the path of loving solidarity. It is to embrace a life of deep, embodied compassion for the suffering of the world. It is to enter into the pain and brokenness of others, not as distant observers but as active participants in their healing. It is to love in such a way that no one is left behind, no one is excluded, and no one is beyond the reach of God’s love. It is to stand with the marginalized, the oppressed, and the forgotten, and to offer them not just words, but presence, action, and hope. It is to embrace the cross, to enter into suffering with others, and to trust that through that suffering, love will triumph.

In the end, the resurrection is not just about life after death; it is about the triumph of love over everything that seeks to destroy it. And to follow Jesus is to participate in that triumph—to live a life that embodies the love of God in a broken world, to live in solidarity with all who suffer, and to trust that love will have the final word. Because, in the end, love is the only thing that truly matters.

Living in Loving Solidarity with the Suffering of the World

The world around us is full of suffering. It’s impossible to ignore, no matter how much we might try. The pain of hunger, of homelessness, of oppression, of disease, of loneliness, and despair—it is everywhere. And yet, there is something in us, something deep within the human heart, that knows we cannot turn away from it. We cannot shut our eyes or hide behind the comforts of our own lives. To live fully, to live with meaning, we must confront the suffering of the world, and in doing so, we must choose to live in solidarity with it. We must choose to be present with it, to engage with it, and to embody the love that heals.

It begins, perhaps, with simply noticing. To live in solidarity with the suffering of the world means to pay attention, to let our hearts break with the brokenness of the world. So often, we distract ourselves. We rush through our days, consumed by our own concerns, our own struggles, our own desires. It’s easy to close off our hearts and pretend that we don’t see what’s happening around us. But when we choose to stop, to look, to listen, we are confronted by the reality that suffering is not an abstract concept. It is the lived experience of so many people, right here and right now. We cannot remain untouched by it, for the suffering of others is not separate from our own humanity.

To be in solidarity with the suffering of the world is to say that we are not separate from it. It is to recognize that the pain of others is not something we can merely observe from a distance. It is to understand that we are all interconnected, that the tears of one are the tears of all. When we hear of an injustice, when we witness a hardship, when we feel the weight of another’s grief, we are called not just to feel sorrow, but to respond—to act, to stand with, to be present.

I think about the story of the Good Samaritan. There was a man beaten and left for dead on the side of the road. Two men, one a priest, the other a Levite, passed by him, each avoiding the sight of the wounded man, each refusing to be touched by his suffering. But then came the Samaritan, the one who was considered an outsider, a stranger. And he didn’t turn away. He didn’t pretend not to see. Instead, he stopped. He bandaged the man’s wounds. He took him to an inn, cared for him, and made sure he had what he needed to recover. This was solidarity in action. This was a radical choice to step into the suffering of another, not as a savior, but as a fellow human being, willing to take on the burden of that pain, to care for the one who was most in need.

Solidarity is not always easy. In fact, it often requires us to step outside of our comfort zones, to go against the grain of what society tells us is important. We live in a world that tells us to prioritize our own happiness, to protect ourselves from pain, to avoid situations that might make us uncomfortable. But to live in solidarity with the suffering of the world is to choose the path of selflessness. It is to say that we will not ignore the cries of others, even if their pain makes us uncomfortable, even if it requires us to sacrifice something of ourselves. To be in solidarity is to step into the mess of life and to be willing to be changed by it.

This is not just about offering a helping hand from a distance. It’s about being willing to enter into the experience of suffering, to allow it to touch us deeply, to let it shape us and change us. When we live in solidarity, we are not just offering assistance to others; we are allowing ourselves to be transformed by our encounters with their pain. We are choosing to see the world through their eyes, to feel the weight of their burdens, and to be changed by that experience. In doing so, we find ourselves becoming more human, more connected, more compassionate. We realize that our own suffering is not something to hide from or to push away, but something that can be a doorway into greater empathy, greater love, and greater understanding.

I am reminded of the words of Jesus: “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” (Matthew 5:4). There is something powerful in that statement. It tells us that when we open our hearts to the suffering of the world, when we allow ourselves to mourn with those who mourn, we too are blessed. The act of mourning, of sharing in the grief of others, is not a sign of weakness, but of strength. It is an act of love. And in that love, we find healing—not just for the other, but for ourselves as well.

Living in solidarity with the suffering of the world means acknowledging that we don’t have all the answers, and that we don’t have to solve every problem. Sometimes, the most important thing we can do is show up. To simply be present with those who are suffering. To listen. To hold space for their pain without rushing to fix it or minimize it. This is where true solidarity begins—not in offering solutions, but in offering presence. In the quiet act of sitting with someone, of standing with them in their pain, we say to them, “You are not alone.” And in that, we offer the greatest comfort we can give.

And this presence, this willingness to stand in solidarity, is not just for those who are close to us or those who are easy to love. It’s for the stranger, the enemy, the other. Jesus didn’t call us to love only those who love us back. He didn’t call us to be in solidarity only with those who are similar to us or who share our beliefs. He called us to love our enemies, to pray for those who persecute us, to bless those who curse us (Matthew 5:44). This is the radical call of solidarity: to step into the suffering of all people, even those who have hurt us, and to offer love in return. It’s the kind of love that breaks down walls, that dissolves hatred, and that unites us in our shared humanity.

We see this love in action throughout the life of Jesus. He didn’t just preach about love; He lived it. He spent time with outcasts, with sinners, with the poor, with those whom society had rejected. He healed the sick, touched the untouchable, and forgave the unforgivable. He didn’t just empathize with the suffering of the world from a distance; He became one with it. He was born into it. He lived in it. And He died in it. And it was through His death that He demonstrated the most radical form of solidarity—a love so deep, so unwavering, that not even death could break it.

The truth is, we are all called to live in this same way. We are called to step into the suffering of the world, not as detached observers, but as active participants in its healing. This doesn’t mean we can solve every problem, or that we should take on the weight of the world’s suffering alone. But it does mean that we are called to care, to act, to love, and to serve. We are called to see the face of God in the faces of the suffering, to offer our time, our energy, and our resources to make the world a place of justice, peace, and healing.

When we choose to live in solidarity, we are not just changing the world; we are also changing ourselves. We are growing in compassion, in empathy, and in love. We are becoming more fully human, more fully alive. And in the end, we are becoming more like Christ—who, in His great love, chose to stand with us in our suffering, to heal us, and to bring us into the fullness of life. To live in solidarity with the suffering of the world is to follow Him, to walk in His steps, and to share in the joy of the resurrection that comes through love.

In that, we find our truest calling. To love. To be present. To serve. To stand in solidarity with the suffering of the world and to trust that through our love, healing will come.

This is How Jesus 'Saves Us'

We often hear the phrase “Jesus saves,” but what does that truly mean? How does Jesus save us? The answer isn’t as simple as it may seem, and it’s far deeper than we might imagine. We tend to think of salvation as rescue—being pulled from danger or freed from some form of punishment. But the way Jesus saves us is not about simply rescuing us from something; it’s about transforming us into something more—something fuller, something more whole. It’s about restoring us to the truth of who we are and helping us to live out that truth.

Jesus saves us by showing us "The Way." But it’s not just any way. It’s the way of loving solidarity—a way that embraces the world, sees its pain, and chooses to stand in solidarity with it, even at great personal cost. This is the heart of how Jesus saves us: not by lifting us above the struggles of life, but by showing us how to walk through them with love, grace, and courage. Jesus doesn’t offer us a way out of the world’s suffering; He offers us a way into it, a way to be with others in their pain and to stand beside them in their struggles. This is the way He shows us how to live, and in living it, we are saved.

Jesus’ life wasn’t about personal gain, about achieving power or acclaim. His mission was to teach us how to love—how to love God, how to love one another, and how to love the world as God loves it. He saves us by showing us that love isn’t just a feeling or a belief. It’s an action. It’s a choice. And it’s not a love based on convenience, comfort, or personal advantage. It’s a love that enters into the deepest places of human experience, that chooses to stay even when it’s hard, even when it costs something.

Look at the way Jesus lived. He chose to enter into the brokenness of humanity, to be among the poor, the marginalized, the outcasts, the sinners, and those that society rejected. He could have distanced Himself from the pain of the world, but He didn’t. He didn’t sit in the palaces of power or the temples of ritual; He went to the places where suffering was raw and unrelenting, where injustice was rampant, and He stood there with them. He didn’t look at the suffering and turn away; He entered it, walked through it, and loved people right in the midst of their struggles. And He didn’t just offer empty words of comfort. He healed, He served, He gave His time and His life to them. He didn’t offer a salvation that took people away from their suffering. He offered a salvation that met them in it, right where they were. And through that love, He transformed their lives.

This is how Jesus saves us—by showing us that the way to true life, the way to liberation, is through loving solidarity. To love the world the way Jesus loved it is to enter into its pain and suffering with the same open-hearted compassion He displayed. He didn’t love from a safe distance. He loved with His hands, His feet, His time, His life. He chose to stand with those who were oppressed, with those who were hurting, and He showed us that to follow Him is to follow the path of loving solidarity.

When Jesus calls us to take up our cross and follow Him (Matthew 16:24), He isn’t asking us to bear the burden of suffering alone. He is inviting us into a way of being in the world—one that chooses solidarity with those who are suffering, one that doesn’t turn away from pain, one that refuses to abandon those who are in need. The cross is the ultimate symbol of God’s solidarity with humanity. It’s not about punishment; it’s about identification. God, in Jesus, chooses to suffer with us, to stand in the pain and the chaos of life, and to show us that love is stronger than any of it. Jesus didn’t save us by escaping the pain of the world. He saved us by entering into it, and by doing so, He demonstrated that love will always be more powerful than fear, pain, and death.

Jesus shows us that the act of loving solidarity isn’t just about feeling compassion for others. It’s about entering into the lives of others in a way that changes both us and them. His love for us isn’t a passive sentiment; it’s an active, transforming force. It’s a love that sacrifices, a love that serves, a love that is willing to go the distance—even to the point of laying down one’s life. And by doing so, He shows us that love is the path to true liberation. When we choose solidarity with the suffering of the world, when we stand beside the oppressed, the marginalized, the poor, the broken, we participate in God’s work of redemption. And in this participation, we are transformed.

But Jesus doesn’t stop at just showing us the way of loving solidarity. His death on the cross is the ultimate expression of this love. He didn’t just talk about loving the world; He showed us what that love looked like in its fullest, most sacrificial form. Jesus entered into the depths of human suffering—rejection, betrayal, pain, and even death—and He chose to embrace it. And by embracing it, He transformed it. He showed us that even in the darkest moments of our lives, there is a way through. A way of love. A way of solidarity.

In His resurrection, Jesus shows us that suffering, even death, is not the final word. His return to life is a powerful statement that no matter how great the pain, no matter how deep the suffering, the love of God can bring forth new life. Jesus’ resurrection is the ultimate act of redemption—not just for Him, but for all of humanity. It is a declaration that love, and only love, is eternal. This is how He saves us. He shows us that love is not only the way of life, it is the way of transformation.

Through His life, death, and resurrection, Jesus saves us by revealing to us the power of love and the way of loving solidarity. He saves us by inviting us into a new kind of life—a life not defined by self-interest, but by self-giving love. He shows us that the deepest joy comes not from holding onto our lives but from giving them away in service to others. And He saves us by showing us that this is the path to liberation. The world may be broken, it may be full of suffering and pain, but Jesus shows us that love has the power to heal, to restore, and to make all things new.

When we choose to follow Jesus, we choose the way of love. We choose to stand with those who are suffering. We choose to enter into the pain of the world, not to escape it, but to transform it with love. Jesus saves us by showing us that this is the way to truly live, the way to liberation. And in following Him, we are transformed into the image of God’s love—into people who live lives of compassion, selflessness, and radical solidarity. This is how Jesus saves us—not by taking us out of the world, but by showing us how to live fully in it, with love as our guide.

Christ died for our sins

When we say "Christ died for our sins," (1 Corinthians 15:3) it’s important to clarify what that truly means, especially in the light of traditional interpretations that often focus on the concepts of payment, substitution, or ransom. These interpretations suggest that Jesus' death was somehow a transaction—one where Jesus paid the price for our wrongdoings, took our punishment in our place, or "ransomed" us from the demands of divine justice. But this understanding distorts the nature of God’s love and creates a narrative of God needing to be appeased.

In truth, God’s love for us is unchanging, infinite, and never dependent on anything we do. God did not need to be "paid" for our sins, nor did God require a ransom. The divine love that Jesus embodied and demonstrated through His life and death is not a love that demands compensation. God’s love was never withdrawn from humanity, and it never needed to be "bought back" or restored through Jesus' sacrifice.

So, what does it mean that Jesus died for our sins, if not in a transactional or punitive sense? It means that Jesus' death is an act of solidarity. He entered into the fullness of human suffering, including the consequences of sin—alienation, brokenness, and death—not to pay a debt, but to show that God is present with us even in the deepest darkness. In His death, Jesus shows that God’s love never abandons us, even in the face of sin and suffering. By identifying with the human experience of sin and death, Jesus reveals that God’s love is unconditional, that it transcends our failures, and that it is not limited by our brokenness.

Jesus' death also reveals the depth of God's commitment to us. It is not a transaction, but an act of divine empathy, where God enters into our suffering to transform it from within. The purpose of Jesus’ death is not to satisfy a divine wrath or to make an angry God “happy,” but to show us the way of love that heals, reconciles, and restores.

When we say that Jesus died for our sins, we understand it as an expression of God's unwavering love that meets us in our brokenness and sinfulness—not as a requirement for God’s forgiveness, but as a demonstration of God’s radical compassion. This love doesn’t need to be earned or paid for; it is freely given, inviting us into a relationship of healing, transformation, and new life.

Begotten

At the beginning, both in Jesus and in each of us, the soul is already one with God. Just as Jesus is the Son of God, we, too, are sons and daughters of God, created in His image and likeness. From the moment of our conception, we carry within us a divine connection, though this truth may be hidden or obscured by the limitations of human perception.

The distinction is that Jesus' "only begotten" sonship is unique in a way that encompasses all of creation. His sonship is not just for Himself but for all of us—His divine nature includes and embraces every person, every being, and the entire cosmos. In Him, the fullness of the divine is made manifest, and through His life, death, and resurrection, He reveals the path to reconnect with that divine essence within us.

The word "begotten" comes from the Greek word monogenēs, which is often translated "unique," but it carries the idea of being brought forth or generated in a way that is unlike any other.

Jesus, as the “full Includer,” is the one who makes this union between humanity and God visible and accessible. Through His life, He demonstrates that God’s love and inclusion are all-encompassing, breaking down barriers and offering an invitation to every soul to return to its original unity with God. His unique sonship, therefore, includes us all. Through Jesus, we are not only reminded of our inherent divinity but also shown the way to fully embrace it and live from that place of connection.

Yet, this divine truth remains hidden from us, especially in the midst of our earthly experience. The mystery of God’s presence within us is often obscured by the distractions, pains, and limitations of our human existence. Like Jesus, who was hidden in humility during His earthly life, our divine conception is also hidden within us. But just as Jesus revealed the divine through His life and actions, we are called to uncover and live from this deeper, hidden truth within ourselves. The journey of spiritual awakening, then, is about coming to recognize and embrace the divine that has always been with us, just as it was with Jesus.

‘Son of’

In both Greek and Hebrew, the phrase "Son of" often conveys the meaning of "of the nature of" rather than merely "offspring of" in a biological or genealogical sense.

In Greek, the term huios (υἱὸς) for "Son" can signify more than just a literal son. It can also indicate a person who shares in the nature, character, or essence of the one to whom they are related. When referring to Jesus as the "Son of God," it signifies that Jesus is of the same divine nature as God, not merely a created being or a biological offspring. Jesus, as the Son of God, shares in the essence of God, His nature, and His being—He is fully divine and fully human, not just a separate being created by God. This is crucial in understanding the concept of the Trinity, where the Son (Jesus) is of the same substance (homoousios) as the Father.

In Hebrew, the term ben (בֵּן) similarly can mean "son," but it can also carry the meaning of "one who is like" or "one who represents the nature of." For example, the title "Son of David" does not simply refer to someone who is a direct descendant of King David; it also suggests someone who embodies the qualities of David—his kingship, his righteousness, his authority. In this sense, when referring to Jesus as the "Son of God," it implies not merely a biological descent but a sharing in the divine nature and authority of God.

This understanding of "Son of" helps illuminate the deeper meaning behind the Christian concept of the Sonship of Jesus. It means that Jesus is "of the nature of" God—He is not a separate entity but rather the full, eternal expression of God's nature in human form. This is why Jesus can say, "I and the Father are one" (John 10:30). Jesus is not just a reflection of God; He is God incarnate, sharing in the fullness of God's essence.

This perspective also helps us understand our own relationship to God. When we are called "sons and daughters of God," it doesn’t just refer to a biological or distant relationship; it speaks to our being made in the image and likeness of God, sharing in God's nature, and being invited to live in harmony with that divine essence.