Driving down the road, I found my mind in a tailspin. I had just been talking to a close friend about the circumstances she had faced. She felt her past was determining her future. These events she had encountered were not the easiest, nor were they the most devastating. But they left some scars she felt were holding her back from other opportunities in life.
And as I was driving, I began to think of my own scars, my journey up until this point in my life. The mistakes from which I suffered, and the prominent, ropey scars that formed in the healing process. These silent, oftentimes obtrusive reminders of my past.
I thought, if someone could easily see these scars, these marks of heartache or lapses in judgment I have made, he or she might look differently at the way I behave in life.
Either my forward actions were touched with a negative or positive light.
Of course, I was only thinking of the scars created by my disobedience and misguided counsel and not the scars formed because of the sinful world we live in naturally. I thought of all the judgment that would ensue if I led with my headstrong scars; conducted with the disregard I had at certain points in my life.
What would someone initially think if they could only see these scars? The scars I was desperately always trying to hide?
When someone I barely know looks at me, and they see only the faults I’ve made, would I always be defined by the things I didn’t do or the things I did unknowingly? Would others judge me solely on past wrongdoings I committed that I have atoned for on my own?
Most importantly, would I merely become the sum of my sins?
Shuddering, I think if someone could see the parts of my heart that I try to hide, they might draw back in fear. If they saw the way I spoke about myself or the way I judge others. The condemnation I place on myself or the way I silently watch as injustice happens. I think about what God saved me from because I allowed his voice to lead compared to the paths I chose to walk alone because I didn’t listen to the quiet voice in my head telling me I didn’t have to go that way. This soft voice telling me that I could go the path of righteousness even if this path didn’t agree with the world.
Maybe you can relate?
Maybe some of your past sins are flaunting their ugly faces again when you thought you had enough space, time, distance from them to move on and heal. Or maybe the consequences of one sin has never left your side. And you are living with a scar that never really recovered. Or perhaps you’re like me, dwelling on past scars that have healed, but someone has said something, or these memories are triggered by an event causing you to rethink your fault.
Unfortunately, once Adam and Eve decided that they wanted to gain their own knowledge and wisdom apart from God, the great chasm between our flesh and soul happened. God didn’t want us to scar, but this seemed unavoidable once Adam and Eve ate the fruit.
So the question becomes: do our scars define us? Do they get to write the narrative of our future?
In the bible, specifically looking at the book of John, Jesus ascends from the earth to be with God. After doing this, he returns to his disciples and immediately shows them his hands and side: the scars that have left an everlasting mark. Jesus’ disciples do not believe that it is him until they see his scars and his pierced side. In fact, Thomas flat out says he will not believe any of these events until he has touched Jesus’ scars.
Thomas says,
“…’Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe.’”
John 20:25
Several days later, Jesus obliges Thomas (in the most endearing way) and welcomes Thomas’s scrutiny of his scars. Jesus doesn’t hide or withhold these painful wounds from Thomas. Jesus knows that what he is doing will soften Thomas’s heart and render him saved. Unreservedly, Jesus opens his hands wide for Thomas to observe, touch, and ultimately believe.
Do the scars of Jesus define who he is?
We crucified him for sins he didn’t commit. Treating him as a criminal, we nailed Jesus unjustly to a cross. And yet his scars offer us the greatest hope. And he doesn’t hide them away.
Jesus’ scars show us that life is never fair or what we might expect. They demonstrate that bad things happen to an amazing, sinless person. These scars exhibit the unwavering fearlessness of a single, innocent man for his people then and now.
And radically, they show us his abiding love. No, the scars of Jesus don’t define who he is. They represent who WE are: they mark us, save us, give us an identity (Want to read more about Identity? Click here).
So thinking back to my friend’s questions of past sins, failures, and marks of crimson, I think about Jesus. His torment on the cross for our freedom.
On the one hand, this characterization might be entirely too hideous on which to dwell. We couldn’t possibly fathom a world where everyone can see our scars and where our past misadventures haunt us.
Yet, having scars gives us all different perspectives.
The events we go through and fight for directly impact our behavior today and our relationship with God. When we show others our scars, we share empathy and grace in ways that words could never accomplish. Our imperfections make us relatable to others when we tell our stories of misfortune, heartache, and unfortunate circumstances.
Scars become bridges that bring us together from opposite sides.
The physical scars of birth define the miracle of human life. Obtaining and earning these scars helps us see the world differently and share the myriad facets of how God used that pain—that mark—to define his love for us. His saving grace is the only thing that makes some of these scars worthwhile.
And the scars of miscarriage define the brokenness of this world. This inevitable suffering was brought down on us from that first fatal bite, hopefully drawing us together in unity as we share each other’s pain. (Read more about miscarriages here).
Our scars can be for his glory if we share them with others. But if we choose to hide them away, we may never know the impact they could have.
What did Jesus do?
He didn’t hide his scars. He willingly let others poke, prod, and experience the heartache he went through. And he allowed us to see straight through him because his intentions are pure and his motive is love.
We must look deeper, beyond the actual scars. We have to look at the actions, the atonement, the growth that occurred from obtaining those scars.
But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds, we are healed.
Isaiah 53:5
And we can start with ourselves. We must stop digging and picking at the scars we’ve already been forgiven for and move on in love. When we can love our own scars, we can love the scars of those around us. And if we are followers of Jesus, we need to treat each scar with love.
As my sons grow, I want them to know that scars are inevitable. You fall, you scrape your knee, and scars form. They are part of life. But with every wound that is made, they get to choose how the ropey development defines them moving forward: either learning from a mistake, sharing what they have overcome, or not doing anything at all. And I hope they learn to share with the confidence that grace gives, always looking for opportunities to build bridges of empathy with others as they love as Jesus loves.
Prayer
Dear Heavenly Father, we are so thankful for the cross. We are so grateful for how Jesus so openly gives us grace by sharing his pain with us. By allowing us full access to who you are. You are our ultimate healing power that creates a salve thick enough to heal any wound. Father, please forgive us when we knowingly and unknowingly mistreat others for the scars they have. Please give us empathy for each past pain we learn about in someone else. We place our pain, healed and unhealed, in your hands. Thank you for your word, which gives us wisdom and more knowledge about you. We love you. In Jesus’ precious name, we pray, Amen.
