Day Twenty-Seven
There’s a little-known but well-accepted truth in the annals of film fandom:
The best scene in “Jaws” doesn’t feature a shark.
If you’ve seen the movie, you probably remember the scene: after a tense encounter with the great white that’s been terrorizing the area, our heroes Quint, Hooper, and Brody retire to the boat’s cabin to relax and unwind a bit. As the evening unfolds it turns into an exchange of bizarre one-upmanship between Quint and Hooper, who share the history of scars they’ve received from various ocean creatures (and other encounters). It comes to a chilling conclusion when Quint tells the true and tragic story of the USS Indianapolis, the sheer weight of which brings their competition to an abrupt close. It’s a powerful scene that reveals a bit about each character as they exhibit how their pasts have left a physical mark: their scars tell a story.
We tend to treat scars with a hint (and sometimes more than a hint) of shame. We hide them when possible, and when it isn’t possible we sometimes spend a good deal of money to have them removed. Scars are seen as blemishes, things that mar us in ways that we’d rather not think about. And truth be told, some scars tell unbelievably difficult stories of horrific abuse and pain, and their presence can be crippling to the victim. Scars are reminders of what has taken place, and they often mark the darkest moments of our lives.
During the Lenten season we spend time meditating on the way the wounds of Christ tell the story of our salvation, how his scars mark the darkest moment of human history…yet speak to its greater meaning and victory. As we spend time at the foot of the cross we are also invited to consider our own woundedness, to think about the way our scars tell a story as well. Whether physical or emotional, we all bear scars that speak to how we have been hurt in the past, and at the cross we are reminded that we are not alone in our pain. Christ knows our suffering because he has lived it himself. He is a “man of sorrows, acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:30), and he weeps with us because he knows what it is like to be one of us.
As Christ walks with us in our suffering, we find that our scars are not shameful at all. They are, like the scars that brought Thomas to his knees (John 20:28), a testament to what God has done. They give us a story to tell to others who travel similar paths, “…so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” (2 Cor. 1:4, NIV) Author Linda Hogan latched on to an important truth when she had a character in one of her novels utter these words:
“Some people see scars, and it is wounding they remember. To me they are proof of the fact that there is healing.”—Linda Hogan, Solar Storms
For some of us the wounds are too fresh to see how God is bringing about that healing. The scars have yet to tell their story. Even then, the place of woundedness is holy ground if we will let it be. One day the story will be clear, but for now we fall on our face and ask God to meet us in our pain. And we ask him to begin not only the work of healing, but the work of using our woundedness for his glory. “Even here,” we pray, “May you be known and glorified.”
That is the prayer of Calvary. And as we meditate on the cross, it becomes the prayer of our own woundedness as well. May God use our scars to tell the story of his healing power and love.
Darkest water and deepest pain
I wouldn’t trade it for anything
‘Cause my brokenness brought me to You
And these wounds are a story You’ll use
Read the rest of the lyrics here.
Questions for Reflection:
1) How has God used the scars of your life to tell a story of his power and grace? How has he used the scars in another person’s life to speak power and grace to you?
2) Are there scars in your life that still cause you to struggle with shame or regret? How might you offer these to God and acknowledge that struggle? Is there a trusted friend, family member, or another person that you can invite into that conversation?
3) Brokenness can bring us to God, but it can also cause us to try and hide from him. How can we “stand in confidence” trusting in his strength, faithfulness, and healing power even when we are tempted to hide?
4) Are you in the midst of a season of woundedness even now, with pain that is still raw and yet to find healing? How might this season of meditating on the suffering of Jesus allow even this time to become “holy ground?”
5) Read and reflect on this verse. Let it lead you into prayerful worship and gratitude:
“We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.”—2 Corinthians 4:8-10 (ESV)