The Scars Remind Us
“That’s going to leave a mark!”
Those were the words that have come out of my mouth on several occasions throughout my life. I’m not exactly the most careful person. I bump into things. I get scratched up. Like most people, I have some scars.
One time, when I was a kid, I was crawling around on the floor in my room playing with my G.I. Joes. One character, Sgt. Slaughter, was a drill instructor and wore a campaign hat. You know the type — broad brim, made out of felt (not this one, it was a toy, so it was made out of plastic). Here’s what he looked like:
So, anyway, I’m crawling around my room, playing with my G.I. Joes, and my knuckle comes down right on the brim of Sgt. Slaughter’s hat. It cut my knuckle. In retaliation, I ripped off his head. I may have overcompensated there, but for the longest time, I had a headless, Sgt. Slaughter in my regular G.I. Joe rotation.
I remember this event quite well — probably much more than I should. And why is that? Because every time I look at my knuckle on my right hand, I see the scar. I have a few more stories of cuts, scrapes and battles long survived as I look at my body, as I am sure you do.
A scar is the body’s way of showing how it has repaired itself. Scars form when the deep layer of skin on our body has been cut, and the body in its own miraculous way, mends itself.
Scars can come from silly things that happen — like playing with your toys, but scars can also come from surgeries, accidents and attacks. And those are just the physical scars.
We all carry around emotional scars that cannot be seen. Something traumatic has happened, and our lives are forever changed. The damage is real, but unseen in most cases. These are the scars that people don’t know about, and often the ones that hurt the most and longest.
I’ve been stewing on this post for some time now. The thought first came to me while I was preparing for Good Friday. I read the old, familiar story of Jesus’ arrest, trial, and crucifixion. I reflected on his death, and what message I would be bringing to my congregation this year. (Believe it or not, the familiar stories are often the hardest ones to preach on. Bringing a fresh perspective to one of the most well-known stories in all of Scripture is more difficult than you would think.)
As I reflected on the story, I remember my mind being drawn to the nails. Okay, not the nails themselves, but the trauma they inflicted, and how those scars were still seen after the resurrection.
You may remember the story. “Doubting Thomas” — poor guy, all he wants is a little bit of proof, don’t we all? And he’s forever known as “Doubting Thomas”. Anyway, Thomas isn’t around when Jesus first appears to the disciples. When they tell him about it, he doesn’t believe them, and says that he won’t unless he puts his fingers in the holes where the nails went in. He gets his chance.
Jesus appears again a week later, and tells Thomas to stick his fingers in. Now, admittedly, that’s a little weird. But here’s what stuck out to me: Jesus has been raised from the dead, but he still has the wounds.
You see, the thing is, the wounds we have leave their mark on us. Some of those wounds can be seen. Some of them cannot. The scars remain, but they aren’t there to remind us of the trauma.
Whatever it is that you are facing in your life, know that it may leave some scars. Don’t hide them. Don’t try to cover them up. When you have been resurrected from the biggest defeat in your life, let the scars remind you, not of your pain, but of your ability to overcome it.
