Scars

A scar is a wound that has healed. – Phil Moreino

There is a question that’s been playing in my mind for the past few days. One of the ladies in Sunday school asked it this past Easter morning. Essentially, it boiled down to this.

“Why did Jesus keep the scars?”

If we are going to have new bodies in heaven and Christ had returned with a glorified body, why was he not made whole? He had the power to erase the evidence of the agonizing death he had endured, but he kept them.

It has been burning in my heart and replaying in my mind as I have tried to understand why Christ kept these painful reminders. Some might say it was to prove that he was himself to doubting Thomas and countless others. While I believe that this may be true, I don’t think that is the end of the story.

I have a couple of scars, and to be honest, they are not things I am proud of. I don’t try to show them off or flaunt them. In fact, I try to hide them when I can. Most often, they are just simply proof of my inherent clumsiness and aptitude for hurting myself. I have one from a minor surgery that only brings back unpleasant memories of needles and grouchy doctors. They are nothing to flaunt, and when I get to heaven they are not something I will miss.

For many of us our scars are simply reminders of painful events and uncomfortable circumstances that we would rather not be reminded of. It reminds us of our vulnerability. And although I often hear the term “battle scars” proudly waved around, sometimes it would be easier to not have that reminder.

But Jesus chose to keep his scars. He held onto the very thing that would daily remind him of the excruciating pain and shameful treatment that he had endured. While I don’t pretend to know the mind of our Savior, I do believe that there is a clear message for us here.

See scars are so often seen as a negative thing. They represent our pain and mortality. But not Christ’s scars.

Christ’s scars represent life. They represent victory. Freedom. Hope. Healing. Joy. Strength. Peace. Salvation.

I believe that Christ gave us a precious gift in keeping those scars. When my heart is heavy, I reach for those precious nail scarred hands like Thomas did. When I fear for the future, I hold on tightly. When I am overwhelmed, I run my fingers across those palms. And that scar – that wound that is healed – reminds me that Christ has won my victory. Death fought my Savior and lost. Sin tried to hold him down and was defeated. He is my victorious Savior.

See, I am not a conquering hero. I am weak. I allow myself to be overhwhelmed, and too often I fail. I look in my heart and I see scars that I would love to erase. Scars of hurts. Scars of regret. Scars of bitterness. But then I see my Jesus, and I see the scars in his hands and I am reminded that He has set me free from all of that. He has made me whole.

 

Today, let him hold your hand and know that He has won your victory.