Have you ever been wronged so deeply that it reshaped not just your body, but your entire way of living? I have.
In 2004, I was attacked with a cutlass. My left hand was chopped off, and two fingers on my right hand were severed. Every single day since that has been a struggle—to find work, to provide for myself, and to live with dignity. Simple things that others take for granted—holding a bag, writing, cooking—I had to relearn all of it, and every time I see my reflection, it is a painful reminder of the loss I suffered at another person’s hands.
What cuts even deeper than the scars is knowing that while I am out here struggling to keep my head up, both emotionally and financially, the man responsible sits in jail, receiving three meals a day, a bed to sleep on, and nothing to worry about. He continues to live comfortably at the State’s expense, while I live with the consequences of his actions. Sometimes I ask myself, where is the justice in that?
Of late, I find myself thinking about the Bible verse in Leviticus 24:20, which says, “Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot.” That verse has always stayed with me because, deep down, I believe it carries a truth society overlooks. If it is proven without a shadow of a doubt that someone intentionally harms another person, shouldn’t they feel the same pain to truly understand the damage they have caused? Think about it: if it were you or a family member, wouldn’t that be the best lesson? The most just? Balancing the scales. People talk endlessly about human rights, but when I was almost chopped to death, where were my rights? He took some of them away forever. So why should his rights be protected?
I wrestle with this question when I read what Jesus said in the New Testament. In Matthew 5:38-39, Jesus said, “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other also.’ It’s a hard teaching to accept, especially for me as I live with the permanent scars of another person’s cruelty.
My pastor said “eye for eye, tooth for tooth” was not a principle of vengeance. It was a principle of justice so that any loss was properly accounted for by the individual responsible. We know this because there were careful arrangements to avoid vengeance through “cities of refuge” that protected an individual until genuine innocence or guilt was established.
And I get it. Jesus wasn’t saying that the pain we feel isn’t important or that justice doesn’t matter. What he meant was that vengeance—personal revenge—does not heal the heart. His message was about mercy, strength, and transformation. The truth is, mercy is not easy when your body is a constant reminder of what was taken from you. Sometimes I wonder if forgiveness is truly possible without justice, and this I mean where the wronged party gets to decide or totally agree to, the punishment being meted out to the wrongdoer. True justice should reflect the weight of the harm done.
Years later, I still live with the consequences of that brutal act. Prospective employers judge me long before I get the opportunity to prove my worth. Every time I get turned away from a job, get whispered about in public places, every time someone stares a little longer than necessary or says something unkind just loud enough for me to hear, I feel the sting of unfairness all over again. My faith dictates that I rise above it, but my reality keeps pulling me back to that place of anger and loss.
So yes, “an eye for an eye” still speaks to me—not because I crave vengeance, but because it feels like the only way justice could truly be felt. Still, as I grow in faith, I pray continuously for strength—the strength to live with what was taken from me, and to keep choosing peace even when justice feels incomplete most days.
Tricia St John is a survivor and advocate for survivors of domestic violence. She continues to hope that her story inspires others to speak out and seek fairness in a system that often forgets and disregards its victims.
