Scars
Galatians 6:14-17
Some years ago on a hot summer day in south Florida, a little boy decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hole behind his house.
In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes socks, and shirt as he went.
He flew into the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake, an alligator was swimming toward the shore. His mother in the house was looking out the window saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In utter fear, she ran toward the water, yelling to her son as loudly as she could.
Hearing her voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a U-turn to swim to his mother. It was too late. Just as he reached her, the alligator reached him.
From the dock, the mother grabbed her little boy by the arms just as the alligator grabbed his legs. That began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator was much stronger than the mother, but the mother was much too passionate to let go. A farmer happened to drive by, heard her screams, raced from his truck, took aim and shot the alligator.
Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital, the little boy survived. His legs were extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal. And, on his arms, were deep scratches where his mother’s fingernails dug into his flesh in her effort to hang on to the son she loved.
The news paper reporter who interviewed the boy after the trauma, asked if he would show him his scars. The boy lifted his pant legs. While looking at his legs the report noticed that the boy had scars on his arms. The boy saw the reporters eyes and told him, “I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them because my Mom wouldn’t let go."
As for me, God forbid that I should boast about anything except the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. Because of that cross, my interest in this world died long ago, and the world’s interest in me is also long dead. It doesn’t make any difference now whether we have been circumcised or not. What counts is whether we really have been changed into new and different people. May God’s mercy and peace be upon all those who live by this principle. They are the new people of God. From now on, don’t let anyone trouble me with these things. For I bear on my body the scars that show I belong to Jesus.
Paul had written this letter to a church he had founded. He was disturbed that there were those who were following him who were preaching a different gospel. A gospel that required them to give up their faith in Christ Jesus. A gospel that required them to be circumcised. A gospel that said that following the law was more important that following Jesus. Throughout the letter, Paul is tries to refocus this church on what is important in their lives – what is important in the life of the church of Jesus Christ. He has told them that it is not about them but about what Christ has done for them and he isn’t interested in hearing about all the things that they have done to make themselves more holy, more pious. He tells them, “May I never boast of anything save the cross of Jesus Christ. And then he tells them of his scars.
For Paul his scars are a sign that he is a follower of Jesus. For him these scars are a stigmata. They validate a missionaries life because unlike some missionaries, some followers of Christ Jesus, Paul never ran and hid but suffered beatings and stonings from those who wanted to suppress the message. And he bared the scars of those beatings.
You and I might be able to identify with Paul. Certainly, we might be able to identify with that little boy. We have scars, too. No, not from an alligator, or from stoning but the scars of a painful past. Some of those scars are unsightly. I joke that I won’t wear shorts in front of small children because the scars on my left leg will cause them to run off in fear. The scars on my chest have ended any possibility of a career as a swimsuit model. But I want to share with you that there are some wonderful things about scars.
Scars are a sign that we can heal
Wounds come from all sorts of incidents in our lives. Some are a result of a fall from a bicycle, a piece of broken glass, a automobile accident, or maybe from a surgeons scalpel. The resulting scar from those incidents prove that we can heal. It may have taken a band-aid. Maybe stitches were required. Maybe some healed in spite of our neglect. But the important thing is they healed.
Our body has this wonderful way of trying to heal itself and in doing so we might not have a good looking scar but we are healed. They show that we have been put back together, made whole again.
Scars are a sign that we have experience
Seldom will we see a new born child with scars. Their skin is exactly what the American spend millions of dollars each on trying to emulate. But in life, we will experience the nicks and scrapes of sharp objects, of hot stoves, of trees and coffee tables, and all sort of objects jumping in our way. They indicate for all to see that in spite of foolish mistakes we are still here and going on. They remind us in private moments that we need to be careful in the things that we do.
Scars are a witness
Some of us wear scars that bear witness to the great skills of certain surgeons. They bear witness to an indomitable body that will not let the nicks and bumps and scraps of life beat us down.
Several years ago, while I was still a nurse and working in Home Health Care, I would go to the hospital the day before a new heart by-pass patient was to go home. The purpose of my visit was to introduce myself, to find out where they lived and if they would be staying there and to tell them a little of what was planned for them over the next two to three weeks. Now the women I would see, were always ready to get out of the hospital and to start rehab but the men . . . well, the men in almost every instance had excuses. They were never sure that they would be able to do the things that were necessary and certainly not tomorrow. Inevitably, they would tell me, “You just can’t imagine the pain I’m in.
I would always smile, prop my leg up on the bed and raise my pants to show the scar on my leg. Immediately, they understood that I beared witness to the fact that I did understand the pain they were in. And just as immediately, I had credibility.
Our scars can make us a witness just as they did Paul.
But what of the scars that can’t be seen?
I’m not sure that many of you have ever thought about the many different type of sutures that are used to sew us up after an accident. Most of us have been told that there are some that will dissolve after awhile but it isn’t anything that we have really thought about but think about this for a moment. For every scar that shows on your body there are those scars that can never be seen. And not all of them came from some type of trauma. Not all the scars on the hearts of this world came from a surgeons. Some come from relationships that have gone bad and I think that we all have experienced that first broken heart. All of us know something of what is to be young and rejected by the person that we just knew had to be the love of our life. And it broke our hearts. But we survived. Some of the memories of experiences in our lives still haunt us. They scar our thinking but we survive. But we do more than survive – we bear witness.
Our internal scars can be our witness for Christ to Others
Our first lesson this morning was the great story that so many of know about Thomas. Doubting Thomas he is so often called. He couldn’t believe until what? Until he saw the scars in Jesus’ hand. Until he felt the scar on Jesus side. Certainly, Jesus told him that there would be those who must believe without seeing and feeling the scars but friends, there are folks today who still want to see the scars. Can they see yours?
Can they see the scars that are left from your life in sin? Scars that were healed by a loving and forgiving God. Can they see in scars of your rebirth as a believer? As a newborn believer you may not have had the skin of a baby but you were made whole again. Can they see the scars on your heart that Jesus healed? A heart harden by a life of rejecting Him.
But the real question is can they see the scars where Jesus wouldn’t let go? Some of our wounds, my friends, are because God has refused to let go. In the midst of our struggles, God has been there holding on to us. Some of the time when we were running hardest away from God, His grip was growing ever tighter.
And I’m so glad.
I’m so glad that God wouldn’t let go of me and I’m glad he wouldn’t let go of you. I’m so glad that as the teeth of sin clinched ever tighter around me that God hung on. Hung on so tight that there are scars. Scars that I am proud of. Scars that show others, I have been where they are and God pulled me through. Scars that gave me the experience not to make the same mistakes over and over and over again. But most of all I am proud of scars that bear witness to the power of God’s love. Scars that I can share with those who still doubt, who still need to see and feel the scars to believe. Scars that testify that I have been crucified in Him and I no longer live but Christ lives in me.
Are you willing to share your scars with those who need to see them? And when you do, will you be like Paul and boast of nothing but the cross?
