He could have done anything. He was made new after all. Resurrected—a new body, a plan fulfilled, finished. Everything that needed to be done was completed. Redemption realized. Death defeated. Forgiveness extended. Grace fully poured out.
Yet, at the conclusion of His glorious act of love, He makes a radical choice in His perfect resurrection—He retains His scars.
His hands, His side, marked by pain; they remain marred, unchanged.
This goes against my plumb line perception of perfection, does it yours?
Why does our perfect savior retain His scars? While I can’t know His reasons, I can look to His example.
Instead of covering His scars, He used them to uncover the doubt of who He was. Rather than showing weakness, they displayed His power over sin and death and became a powerful tool in His ministry. Where He could have sought physical flawlessness, He focused on relational restoration.
What does His example mean for our painful past? Could our deepest wounds accomplish this? Is it possible for our scars to be a tool that uncovers doubt about who Christ is? If so, are we willing to use our weaknesses for Christ’s glory? Are we willing to trust that in our weakness, Christ becomes our strength? If His stripes healed us, if He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds (Psalm 147:3), will we embrace that healing? Instead of trying to cover the scars, do we dare to put them on display?
“For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin. Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” (Hebrews 5:15, 16)
Let us be a people who embrace our Savior’s example. In displaying our scars may we find these words, first given to Paul, ringing true for us, “My power is made perfect in your weakness.” (2 Cor. 12:9)
What scars do you bare? Are you hiding them or using them?