Reflection on John 10:1-10

 

John 10:1-10 (NRSVue)

[Jesus said:] 1 “Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit. 2 The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. 3 The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. 4 When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. 5 They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers.” 6 Jesus used this figure of speech with them, but they did not understand what he was saying to them.

  7 So again Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. 8 All who came before me are thieves and bandits, but the sheep did not listen to them. 9 I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved and will come in and go out and find pasture. 10 The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”

Reflection

For just a moment, if you can, imagine that you are blind.  More than just blind, imagine that you have never seen a single thing since birth.  Delete from your mind every sunset.  Delete from your mind the eyes of your mother looking down upon you with love.  Delete from your mind watching waves of wind blowing over fields of grain.  Imagine that you have never seen any of those things. 

Now imagine that sounds are imprinted in your mind instead of images.  People are known to you for their voices, not their faces.  And some of the words imprinted in your mind and on your soul are the voices of people who have talked about you behind your back as if you were deaf and not blind, talking as if you were damaged goods, whispering of sins that you must have been committed or that your parents must have committed that has caused you to live in your dark world.  Imagine being excluded from conversations and other people in general because people refuse to come near such an obvious product of sin.  In their eyes you are a sin to be pitied.  You are an alien to be excluded.  It is a dark life, made even darker because of these soulless people.

Now imagine suddenly feeling the coolness of mud wiped across your eyes with careful, caring hands, and a loving voice telling you to go and wash the mud off in a pool.  As the clumps of mud fall from your eyes, something new pierces into your world.  It is light!  You open your eyes and for the first time see the shimmering of something that you have only ever heard and felt: water.  You look up and see the blue of the sky.  You look next to you and see the look of puzzlement on the face of someone standing beside you.  You did not realize that you were shouting at the top of your lungs the entire time that you can see! 

You can see because someone took the time to come and find you.

Days later, you see the face of the one who took the time to come and find you.  He finds you again, after the very people of your hometown, who should have rejoiced with you, turned on you and rejected you instead.  They hated the man who restored your sight.  So, they hate you as well. You have once again been pushed into the dark, alone.  These people are the blind ones.  They are blind to love.  They are blind to goodness.  And you would be utterly alone if not for Jesus who finds you once again and invites you to be one of his sheep.

Jesus is the type of shepherd who goes out of his way to find his sheep.  Jesus is the type of shepherd who calls out his sheep’s names and his sheep hear his voice and follow him, trusting that he will lead them to green pastures and still waters.  Jesus is the type of shepherd who will lie in the gate of the sheepfold at night, using his body to protect and save his sheep.

“The Lord is my shepherd,” I imagine the soul of the formerly blind man singing.  “I shall not be in want” I imagine the soul of the formerly blind man musing as Jesus finds him a second time and provides him more than sight but also gives him a family and a Lord to follow.  “My cup overflows,” I imagine the blind man looking to God as he rests close to the one who saved him and gave him gifts greater than anything he could have possibly imagined, sight and a heavenly family.  Imagine the love now in that formerly blind man’s heart.  He will follow that savior anywhere.

I love to just lay down at night and imagine myself into the sandals of that blind man from John, chapter 9.  I love to imagine what it felt like to be found by a shepherd that you never even knew you had.

Now, take a moment to imagine that you can see perfectly fine.  You can see the beauty of the sunset.  You can see the faces of your wonderful children.  But your heart is cold and blind.  Imagine throwing out a formerly blind man from the community because he was dangerously praising a false prophet.  Imagine that your sense of right and wrong has made you blind not only to this man’s life of suffering, but also to his newfound joy.  All you see when you look at this man is someone who has been deceived by a charlatan.  This sort of poison cannot be allowed to spread throughout your town.  This poor, delusional man and the charlatan who claimed to save him must be pushed away before they spread their ways and their lies to everyone else.

Why is it so hard to see an act of love as purely that, an act of love and healing?  Why does love have so little effect on the heart?  Why does that act of love increase hatred?

There is little time to ponder such questions because the one who loved and healed the man calls you blind.  He accuses you.  It is not hard to understand why Jesus was given a cross?

After-all, if you could actually see, you would seek and find rather than exclude and expel. 

Imagine Jesus trying to pry open your eyes so that you can see the world in a new way; so that you can see people in a new way.  Imagine Jesus opening your eyes to the ways of the good shepherd.

The good shepherd, “calls his own sheep by name and leads them out” (John 10:3)  “He goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice” (John 10:4)  And those sheep who follow Jesus, “will be saved and will come in and go out and find pasture” (John 10:9).  Our good shepherd “came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10).

Now, I have to admit that I have been both.  I have been the sheep who was excluded and mistreated, and who was found by Jesus and shown love and care.  But I have also been the thief who looks at a little sheep and steals them from grace, looking at them with a lens of right and wrong, condemning them rather than loving them into the sheepfold.

When I was the excluded one, the love I was shown felt like pure grace. 

When I was the one doing the excluding, showing love to people who were obviously sinners felt like weakness and it fueled my burning rage even more. 

I just want to point out that it was the same love of Jesus Christ in both cases.  In one case the love of Jesus saved a wretch like me, just like it saved that blind man.  And in the other case the love shown a wretch I hated did nothing but fuel my anger and condemn me. 

In both cases, Jesus showered his love.  It was me who was the problem. 

When I was the one loved, I embraced it.  When the love was for someone else that I deemed unworthy, I disregarded it.  As the Apostle Paul once said, to those who have nothing but a heart of destruction, the sacrificial love of Jesus for someone else is absolute “foolishness” (1 Corinthians 1:18). 

In the one case, I felt welcomed into Jesus’ sheepfold, and in the other I tried to sneak in and steal someone from Jesus’ care.  But at all times it was all about how I either accepted or did not accept the love shown to a particular sort of sheep.  It was all about me.

Do you know who it should have been about?  Jesus, the shepherd!

Jesus teaches, “The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice” (John 10:2-4).

It is Jesus who decides who he will find.  It is Jesus who decides who he will love and who he will call to follow.  It is Jesus who is the gatekeeper, who lays in front of the gate and lets in and out. 

Jesus says, “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me are thieves and bandits; but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture” (John 10:7-9).

As hard as it is to get it through this thick scull of mine, and my skull can be very, very thick, it is Jesus who is the gate.  Jesus gets to decide who comes in and goes out.  It does not matter if I do not like the other sheep around me.  All of us are sinners who need to follow our shepherd.  I am not the leader.  I am not the shepherd.  And besides, those other sheep probably do not like me either.

None of that matters because Jesus is the shepherd!  Jesus is the gate!  Salvation comes through him!  Salvation does not come through us.  How easy it is to forget.

Psalm 23 reminds us that “The Lord is my shepherd…”

These five words are so, so beautiful.  They are a promise to us when we are the sheep finding ourselves in the dark valleys.  And they are a reminder when we are the ones causing the darkness in the valley.

“The Lord is my shepherd…”

So, I will repeat those five words again and again.  They will be my hope.  They will be my guide.  They will be my truth. 

“The Lord is my shepherd…”  The words will remind me to look to Jesus who is “the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6).  “The Lord is my shepherd…”  The words will remind me that Jesus is who we follow, even though we may disagree and misunderstand.  “The Lord is my shepherd…”  The words will remind us who it is that provides abundant life; and I will tell you right now, it is not me and it is not you.  “The Lord is my shepherd…”  The words remind us to look always to Jesus Christ who will not lead us by wrong pathways.

(Praying) Jesus, find us; lead us; save us; be our shepherd.  Amen.

Reflection on Luke 24:13-35

 

Luke 24:13-35 (NRSVue)

¹³ Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles^[a] from Jerusalem, ¹⁴ and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. ¹⁵ While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, ¹⁶ but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. ¹⁷ And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad.^[b] 18 Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” ¹⁹ He asked them, “What things?” They replied, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth,^[c] who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, ²⁰ and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. ²¹ But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel.^[d] Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. ²² Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, ²³ and when they did not find his body there they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. ²⁴ Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they did not see him.” ²⁵ Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! ²⁶ Was it not necessary that the Messiah^[e] should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” ²⁷ Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.

²⁸ As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. ²⁹ But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. ³⁰ When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. ³¹ Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him, and he vanished from their sight. ³² They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us^[f] while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” ³³ That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem, and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. ³⁴ They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” ³⁵ Then they told what had happened on the road and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

Reflection

Jesus was there the entire time; the pastor just could not see him.

We were sitting together at a conference dinner table with a smooth, black tablecloth, with fancy cloth napkins that were previously wrapped around the silver, and with the glow of a candle in the center.  It was nice.  But the twisting pain of my fellow pastor’s heart was not as nice. 

“I don’t think I believe anything I say anymore.  After she died, the words that come out of my mouth just seem so dead and hollow.”

The pastor’s wife had died months before. 

“I don’t believe a word of what comes out of my own mouth.  ‘God is good.  God is so caring.’  What a bunch of bologna!”

He did not say “bologna.”

“I don’t think I love God anymore.  I don’t even know if God is even there.  I preach because I need the check, my kids need the check, but I don’t believe a word of what I say.  How could I believe any of this after she was stolen from me?”

I sat there and listened.  I knew that Jesus was right there, sitting with us, embracing him while he suffered.  Psalm 38:18 kept singing in my head, “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” (NRSVue, Psalm 38:18).

But I did not quote it.  I chose to believe for him, like those friends who carried their paralyzed companion to Jesus for healing.  Jesus said that it was the friend’s belief that healed that guy.  So, I said nothing.  I just listened and carried him in my silent prayers to Jesus to find some healing. 

How would interrupting him with cheap biblical platitudes change his suffering?  He would not have believed me if I reminded him that Jesus was there with him.  No, Jesus needed to show himself.  He was there; and the poor pastor needed Jesus to just show himself.  But, even if he did, even if Jesus pulled up a chair and took a seat right next to us, would the poor pastor have believed?

I was not so sure.  After-all, I know the story of the “Road to Emmaus” very well.  In the story, there are two disciples who are walking the seven-mile stretch between Jerusalem and Emmaus, and on that journey, they are similarly distressed over the grizzly death of their teacher, their Messiah, who they had hoped would be the one to redeem Israel.  Instead, as the disciples say in their own words, “our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him” (Luke 24:20). 

The two disciples say these very words to a stranger, a foreigner according to the Greek, who joins them on their walk.  The foreigner joins them on their painful journey back home.  The two are carrying their travel bags filled with sorrow and survivor’s guilt.  As they travel, they recount the sad story, again and again, of how the one they had hoped would be the Messiah was now dead.  The hope they had for their people’s salvation was dead.  The teacher they loved was dead.  The one who had loved and healed them was dead.  Jesus was dead.

They share their pain with the foreigner.  They share the story of Jesus with the foreigner, sharing that Jesus “was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people” (Luke 24:19).  They also share how, three days now after his crucifixion, they heard stories from some women about the empty tomb and a “vision of angels who said that he was alive” (Luke 24:23).  The tomb was indeed empty, but no one saw Jesus.  He was not there.

They are distraught.  They are grief stricken.  They are confused.  They “had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel” (Luke 24:21).

“We had hoped…” they say.  “We had hoped.”

I cannot tell you how often grief is filled with the words, “We had hoped…”  “We had hoped that he would live long enough to see his grandchildren.”  “We had hoped that she would live long enough to graduate.”  “We had hoped that he could have made it through the addiction.”  “We had hoped that she would have the chance to become a dancer.”  “We had hoped that he could at least see his first birthday.”  “We had hoped to talk with her at least one more time.”  There is just so much pain suspended in the words: “We had hoped.”

As they carry the weight of their loss, and as they struggle to hold onto the shards of their broken dreams, these two disciples of Jesus Christ are unable to see that the stranger walking with them is Jesus. 

The pastor had hoped that he would have many, many more years with his wife.  The pastor had hoped that Jesus would heal his wife.  The pastor had hoped for a miracle like in the days of Jesus’ ministry where he reached out a hand, touched, and healed. 

“We had hoped.”

The pastor and the disciples were both carrying heavy loads, and their heavy loads of grief just did not allow them to see.  Now, both the pastor and the disciples still carried the stories of Jesus with them and shared those stories.  They shared the stories of love.  They were doing the right thing…but they just could not see.  And all while they were carrying that heavy load, Jesus was there.  He was there the entire time.

I just want to point out that these disciples were quite the opposite of no faith, weak people, who lacked devotion and moral character.  They did not lack faith.  They were simply “slow of heart to believe.”  They just could not see Jesus.  In fact, I would argue that these two disciples were titans of bearing heavy burdens, carrying the weight of grief and broken dreams, yet still holding close the story of Jesus and sharing that story.  Grief is not weakness and struggle is not a lack of moral character. 

And none of that means that God has left you.  Jesus is there the whole time!  I do not know who needs to hear this, but you need to know that Jesus is there the entire time for you as well.  The only problem is that, like the disciples, sometimes we just cannot see Jesus.  So, how do we see that Jesus is with us?  How do we see that Jesus is here, present in our struggles and present in our lives? 

Jesus does not exactly keep the answer a secret, and that is a good thing.  The Bible reads:

“Beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures. As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, ‘Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.’ So he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him” (Luke 24:27-31).

How do we see Jesus?  What do we do when we are exhausted from carrying the unbearable weight of the world?  We allow Jesus to open the scriptures to us.  We allow Jesus to feed us at his table.  We allow Jesus to use his words and his meal to open our eyes to his presence.

Jesus is here after-all.  Jesus was present with the disciples, and Jesus is present with us through the power and presence of the Holy Spirit.  Jesus was and is present the entire time. 

And that is why we call it grace.  The disciples do not need to prove anything for Jesus to arrive.  The disciples do not need to have rock-solid faith.  The disciples do not need to find the secret to opening their minds and their eyes.  The disciples do not need to do anything but look and see, because when Jesus wants to be seen, he will be seen.  Jesus was there with those disciples the entire time, and that is grace.

“I once saw Jesus in a piece of toast,” I told the grieving pastor when he stopped sharing his grief and just stared straight ahead.  “The Bible tells us that Jesus was with the disciples the entire time on the road to Emmaus, but they didn’t see him until Jesus broke bread.  Well, I’m just saying that I saw Jesus with me one morning as a child while staring at my toast.  Right there in the browned parts of the bread was Jesus’ face.  He was right there in front of me on my plate.  I told my mom, ‘I see Jesus on my toast!’ and she told me, ‘Good.  Now eat him quick, because you need to get out to the bus.’” 

My story was not profound, but it broke the tension.  What was profound was what happened next.  The table beside us got up to leave, and a man walked over with a basket and said, “You look like someone who could use more bread?  We had plenty” and he set the basket of bread down in front of the pastor.  The pastor began to weep.  Jesus was there with him, in the breaking of the bread.  Jesus was there the entire time.

Jesus is with you the entire time.  You are a people filled with the Lord’s presence and the Lord’s grace.  You do not need to work for it, but you do get to live in it. 

You do get to be the people of God who celebrate the joy of the Lord, even while still disbelieving sometimes, just like the disciples…just like the pastor.  You do get to be the people of God who literally walk with your Lord everywhere you go.  Who else gets to say that?  Who else gets to walk everyday with the redeemer of the entire universe?

Blessed are you who suddenly see that Jesus walks with you every step of the way!

Reflection on John 20:19-31

 

John 20:19-31

¹⁹ When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors were locked where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” ²⁰ After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. ²¹ Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” ²² When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. ²³ If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

  ²⁴ But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. ²⁵ So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”
  ²⁶ A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” ²⁷ Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” ²⁸ Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” ²⁹ Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

  ³⁰ Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples that are not written in this book. ³¹ But these are written so that you may continue to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.

 

Reflection

There is so much that is surprising about Jesus’ resurrection appearance to his disciples, who remain shut away from the world out of fear. 

Jesus appears despite the doors being locked. 

Jesus breathes on them the Holy Spirit. 

Jesus gives them the ability to forgive sins, a job relegated to God alone previously. 

But, of all the surprises, the one that caught me and stopped me dead in my tracks was Jesus showing his healed wounds to his disciples. 

Though we have seen countless images of Jesus showing his wounds to Thomas in art throughout the years, and heard the story countless times, it struck me just how utterly disgusting this is.  I cannot tell you the number of times that people have said to me, “Pastor, do you want to see my wounds?”  And I politely reply, “It is fine with me if you just describe it, really it is fine.”  And then they raise the pant leg or lift the shirt anyway!  We do not need to see it to pray for it.  And I imagine that this scene with Jesus could come across the same way.  Thomas wanted to see the scars, but no one else in the room signed up for this show. 

Obviously, some people like to show off their scars, but I think most of us prefer to hide them.  They are disgusting, and we are ashamed. 

How many of us share our deepest wounds with others?  How many of us share the time we were on the point of suicide; or share the time when we were out of control on a substance; or share the time we acted recklessly in the car; or share the time we were out of control, anger dripping from our lips at our children, and they were afraid; or share the time we hurt ourselves instead of healing ourselves?

You see what I mean?  In shame, we hide our wounds.  In shame we hide our failures. 

I knew of a woman who was an outstanding citizen within her community.  She was the model soccer mom, she served on the school board, she threw the kids a yearly end of school party, she was at all the games, she was a super mom.  The one weird thing about her was that she always wore these stylish long-sleeved shirts.  It could be one hundred degrees out, and she would still wear these flowing, long-sleeved shirts. 

One day while putting away some supplies overhead at her church, one of the sleeves exposed her arm and for just a moment, one of the church members saw on her arms the distinct scars left from substance abuse.  The church member said nothing, so as not to embarrass her.  We hide our scars.

But here is the thing, in hiding those scars, in hiding those failures, we also hide the healing that Jesus gave us.  A scar, after-all, is a healed wound.  But, too often, the shame of the scar is just too great.

Do you want to hear something shameful?  How about the government putting you to death in a very public way on a cross, with your clothes stripped from you, while leaders of the community spit at you and taunt you; as passersby going into town gawk at your exposed body? 

People do not parade wounds like that.  I have very rarely shared the one time that my anger overwhelmed me and I punched a guy in the face.  It was not my best moment.  I felt ashamed that I could not hold it together.  It left a small scar on my soul and another on my knuckle that remained for years.  So, now you have heard my secret story of shame.  You might be saying, “I didn’t ask to hear it!  I didn’t want to hear it!”  And that is my point.  We hide our shame.  We hide our embarrassment.  We hide our scars.  Yet the Bible says this about Jesus’ appearance to his closest followers: 

“When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side” (John 20:19-20).

And again, a week after Thomas shouts, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe” (John 20:25) the Bible tells us: 

“Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe’” (John 20:26-27).

It seems that for Jesus there is no shame in wounds, quite the opposite.  Somehow, sharing his deeply shaming wounds with others brings peace and healing.  And, in my experience anyway, we all need that sort of healing.

Remember that church member who saw the scars on the arm of that upstanding woman, revealing a past of substance abuse?  It must have been God’s work that the sleeve exposed her arm that day, because months later that same church member opened the front door to find a granddaughter standing there.  She looked terrible.  The granddaughter said she had nowhere to go.  She had no bridges that she had not burned.  The church member looked at her arms, and the same wounds were on the granddaughter’s arms, except these were fresh.

The church member took in her granddaughter, but agonized day and night over her as the granddaughter struggled to keep clean, struggled to keep a job, struggled to tell the truth, and finally struggled with the will to live.

The church member kept coming back to those hidden scars on the arms of that upstanding woman in the community.  The church member invited the woman over for dinner.

It was an awkward meal.  The church member and the woman talked about church matters, all while the granddaughter slumped on her side of the table, eating in silence.  But it was not long before the upstanding woman saw the wounds on the granddaughter’s arms.  The church member saw when it happened.  At first, it was a quick glance while they were talking, then it became a real look as the realization of what she was seeing took hold.  You could tell the upstanding woman was considering something.  Finally, the woman turned her body toward the granddaughter and said, “I recognize those.”  Then she pulled up her sleeve, revealing her own scars.  “It does get better, dear.  God can heal those wounds.  Look, God healed mine.  Life does get better.”

The upstanding woman did exactly what her savior had done, she exposed her healed wounds.  She showed her wounds and pointed a way beyond the shame to healing.  Years before, Jesus breathed the Holy Spirit of forgiveness upon her, healing her, and now she revealed those wounds of healing and hope to this girl who desperately needed to see.

Jesus said, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe” (John 20:27).

In Jesus’ kingdom, scars are not disgusting.  In Jesus’ kingdom, scars give hope.  They bring belief.  They are proof that Jesus still heals and still gives new life.  Just look at his hands.  Just look at Jesus’ scars and see that he is the Lord who can overcome all.  Just look at his hands.

Just look at your hands.  Everyone’s hands look different.  Some hold the greasy stains of hard work and daily struggle.  Some hold the healed wounds that come from broken bottles.  Some hold the healing photo of the one who died.  Some hold the healed wounds of disagreement and hard-heartedness.  Some hold the dark, healed bruises of abuse.  Everyone’s hands look different, and everyone’s hands hold scars. 

But what the Bible is trying to preach to us is that Jesus did not put his hands in his pockets.  He did not buy designer gloves to cover them up.  Instead, Jesus chose to show up in that fear-stricken room where the disciples were frozen in fear, he stretched forth his hands, and he intentionally showed his healed scars to the scared and disoriented disciples. 

The message that we desperately need to hear is not that our imperfections are something shameful, to be hidden so as not to entice death.  Rather, we need to hear the message that in Jesus Christ wounds are overcome. 

Death does not get to win the day.  Shame does not control our life.  Rather, the good news of Jesus Christ preaches that our shame is healed and overcome in Jesus’ death and resurrection.  Jesus transforms our scars from objects of shame to an essential part of who we are and how we minister in Jesus’ name.  After-all, Jesus’ scars became an essential part of his own saving work.  As Isaiah 53:5 tells us, “By his wounds we are healed.”  Jesus’ healed scars are the foundation of our own faith stories. 

“Jesus said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.’ Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’” (John 20:27-28).

Jesus’ scars create faith.  Thomas can believe because he sees the healed wounds. 

How many people feel alone in their struggles all because they have never been shown the healed wounds that Jesus provides?  How many people are stuck in the past, staring at gaping wounds that could have been healed long ago had someone shared their own healed wounds with us? 

Your healed wounds are a part of your story.  It is OK.  Nobody’s story is perfect.  We are humans.  We are not gods.  And the scars that prove you have been healed by the power of Jesus Christ are very things that make you a part of Jesus’ story of redemption.  Jesus has brought you healing.  Jesus has made you whole.  Jesus has redeemed you from sin and death.  And you have the scars to prove it.

Do not fear showing those healed scars.  You never know who Jesus will bring your way, whose wounds are still bleeding and in need of healing.  You never know who Jesus will bring your way so that they can hear the good news of new life and second chances through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ our Lord.

Reflection on Matthew 28:1-10

 

Matthew 28:1-10 (NRSVue)

1 After the Sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. 2 And suddenly there was a great earthquake, for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. 3 His appearance was like lightning and his clothing white as snow. 4 For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. 5 But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. 6 He is not here, for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. 7 Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’ This is my message for you.” 8 So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy and ran to tell his disciples. 9 Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. 10 Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers and sisters to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”

 

Reflection

On that glorious morning when the angel met Mary Magdalene and the other Mary at the tomb, the angel declared the unbelievable news: “‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’ This is my message for you.” “So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy and ran to tell his disciples” (Matthew 28:7-8).  Their Lord, Jesus, was alive!  He had been raised from the dead!  Jesus has overcome death!  What amazing news!  Our hearts race with excitement as the women go from that place to proclaim the good news.  Our hearts are with them so much that we may forget completely who we are leaving behind at the tomb.

We are leaving behind the guards.  You remember the guards, do you not?  They were the ones who were making sure that the tomb remained secure.  They were the ones who lost their footing in the great resurrection earthquake.  They were the ones who could not bear the presence of the glowing angel who rolled the stone away and single handedly overpowered them.  There were the ones who the Bible says, “shook and became like dead men” (Matthew 28:4).  We are forgetting about them.

You might ask, “Who cares?  They weren’t the point of the story anyway.”  And you would be right, but I do care anyway.  Because I know of a lot of people who stumble and fall when their worlds shake and they are overpowered by situations that they simply cannot grasp or understand.

I have a friend who once talked about experiencing a major earthquake firsthand for his very first time.  As soon as he felt the trembling, he ran outside with great fear welling up inside his chest, running into the open, away from any buildings as he had been instructed to do before moving into earthquake country.  When he made it outside, he could not believe his eyes.  The earth was heaving up and falling again like waves in an ocean, except it was solid ground…or what was supposed to be solid ground.  Quite frankly he thought, “Who can escape this?  He thought of those biblical stories where the ground opens and swallows people whole.  “I am going to die right here!” he thought. 

Now, earthquake veterans know that as dramatic as that may look, things are going be fine for anyone who is standing outside and away from anything that can fall on them.  But for the person who experiences it for the first time, they do not know that.  Their heads get stuck in shock and fear, like those soldiers on the day of resurrection.  They, as the Bible describes, “shook and became like dead men” (Matthew 28:4).

The soldier’s reaction makes me think of a woman who just days ago sobbed uncontrollably because it was the anniversary of her child’s death.  Her child died 65 years ago.  She has been sobbing nearly every day since.  My heart aches for her.  My heart goes out to her.  My heart goes out to that woman, the soldiers, and the many, many other people whose lives have shaken to the core by earthquake sized events in and they just cannot seem to find a way forward.  So, yes, even while my heart is with Mary Magdalene and the other Mary as they run and celebrate with “fear and great joy,” part of my heart remains with those who cannot see any reason for celebration and who end up becoming like the dead (Matthew 28:8).

Now, just to be clear, the women experienced the earthquake as well.  The women also saw the angel “descending from heaven” (Matthew 28:2).  And though the Bible describes them in Matthew 28:8 as having “fear,” they are somehow able to see beyond their fear, and they also get to experience “great joy” (Matthew 28:8).  How did they do that?  What allowed them to move beyond the grief, the quake, and this utterly unexplainable angelic experience?

Could it be because Jesus had given them a special gift?  Could it be because Jesus handed them the gift of being prepared to see beyond the terrible and impossible?  Could it be because Jesus told them, “You will hear of wars and rumors of wars; see that you are not alarmed, for this must take place, but the end is not yet. For nation will rise against nation and kingdom against kingdom, and there will be famines and earthquakes in various places: all this is but the beginning of the birth pangs” (Matthew 24:6-8).

Jesus taught his followers that earthquakes and other terrible, fear inducing events that we encounter throughout our lives are not ever the last word in our stories.  Rather our terrible, earth shaking, soul wrenching events are the first words in a new story that Jesus writes with his very own hand. 

What if I told you that the death of your loved one, as terrible and heart wrenchingly sad as it continues to be, is not the last word in your story, or theirs?  How do I know?  Jesus said that it would not be the last word.  You do not need to stay on the ground, or even in the ground as a dead man, because Jesus did not, and neither did Jesus allow your loved one to remain there either.  Have hope.  The story is not done.

What if I told you that the health scare, as anxiety causing as it may be, is not the last word in your story?  How do I know?  Jesus said that it would not be the last word.  You do not need to stay on the ground trembling in fear, because Jesus knows that there is new life ahead of you no matter what your health outcome.

What if I told you that when you run away in great fear because your world is shaking, because sin has ensnared you, or because the darkness is great that Jesus is going ahead of you and will meet you, both at your destination, but also on your way? 

How do I know?  Because, as Mary Magdalene and the other Mary ran from the scene of the earthquake and tomb, the Bible says that “Suddenly Jesus met them” and that they were able to take “hold of his feet and [worship] him” (Matthew 28:9).  Jesus was right there with them. 

Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers and sisters to go to Galilee; there they will see me” (Matthew 28:10).  No matter the details of the shaking of your life, no matter the impact of the shaking, there is no need to stay on the ground as if you have died, as if life cannot go on, as if that terrible thing is the end of your story.  It is not.  Jesus has already started his journey of new life, going ahead of you and meeting you along the way.  He knows the destination.  He knows that the earth shaking of your life is only the start of a new story that has just begun to give birth.  And he is at the destination of that story.  Look for him with eyes full of new life and hope.

And as you look ahead, you will no longer see a confused darkness, as if your future is nothing but a chaotic void, rather you will see the Lord guiding your way beyond sadness, beyond confusion, and beyond pain. 

You have no idea what that new story will look like, but you see that the Lord has prepared it, and knowing that allows you to take Jesus by the hand, allows you to be pulled up with to your feet with some hope, and allows you to trust that what Jesus has in store is nothing short of holy.

“Do not be afraid” (Matthew 28:4).

“[Jesus] has been raised from the dead” (Matthew 28:7).

“He is going ahead of you” (Matthew 28:7).