A Scarred Faith

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on March 30, 2008, the 2nd Sunday of Easter.

Acts 2:14a, 22-32
Psalm 16
1Peter 1:3-9
John 20:19-31

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our heats be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

If you’re wondering why this passage is familiar, it’s because we hear this passage on the first Sunday every after Easter. I am often curious about why the committee that put together the lectionary uses the passages it does, but using a passage every year that isn’t Luke’s version of the Christmas story reeks of a lack of imagination. It could be asked how many ways one passage can be preached. Well, we’re about to find out if I can make it three with this one.

I have talked about Jesus giving the Holy Spirit to the disciples—what bible scholars call “John’s Pentecost.” I have also talked about the forgiveness of sin part of this passage, saying that while it is God alone who forgives sin, sin is retained if we don’t forgive. When someone else’s sin is retained, they don’t retain it, we retain it ourselves. By retaining someone else’s sin, we are damaged.

Every time a sermon is written and heard, the goal is to make the gospel reading new again, like we’re hearing it again for the first time. This passage and this reading of it are no different. And when I read this passage this time, these things didn’t impress me at all.

What rang out when I read this passage was when the narrator reported, Jesus “showed them his hands and his side.”

When the disciples saw his wounds, when they saw where the nails secured his hands and where the spear pierced his side; I imagine they were able to see the remnants of pain, the torture, the horror that God incarnate knew upon the cross. I think they were beginning to come to grips with the price of his sacrifice.

Jesus was betrayed by one of his own. He is interrogated by Annas and tried before Pilate. The Jews in the street could have cried for his freedom, instead they cried for the death of Jesus and the freedom of the bandit Barabbas. His clothes were taken and split among the guards who led him to his death. He was hung from a tree, taunted. Only one of his disciples was addressed from the cross, John. Whether the others were there or not, the Gospel is silent, but our reading begins with the eleven in hiding so I would be inclined to guess they were nowhere close.

Jesus had taken on the greatest pain and humiliation the kingdom of humanity could heap upon another, crucifixion. Death by crucifixion is particularly gruesome. It is a slow death. Placed on a pole in the mid day sun, the body will begin to burn like a day at the worst beach on earth. Breathing becomes difficult and only when the victim stands, in Jesus’ case on impaled feet, can a full breath be taken. The pain of the piercings is almost negligible compared to the rest of the torture. Ultimately, when unable to stand, the body’s weight is supported by its outstretched arms, and breathing becomes impossible. Blood loss and dehydration are just little additions to steady drum beat of asphyxiation.

After this trial, after this deceit, after this horror; Jesus comes and stands among them and says, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus says to them again, “Peace be with you.”

God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life and humanity inflicts its worst upon its Lord and God. Still Jesus offers humanity his peace.

An old story…

One day a young man was standing in the middle of town proclaiming he had the most beautiful heart in the valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart—for it was perfect.

There was not a mark or flaw on it. Yes, they all agreed—it truly was the most beautiful heart they had ever seen. The young man was very proud and boasted more loudly about his beautiful heart.

Suddenly, an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said “Why your heart is not near as beautiful as mine.” The crowd and the young man looked at the old mans heart… it was beating strongly, yet full of scars. It had places where pieces were removed and other pieces put in but they didn't fit quite right—and there were jagged edges. In fact in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing. The people stared… “How could he say his heart was more beautiful?” they thought.

The young man looked at the state of the old man's heart—and laughed. “You must be joking,” he said. “Compare my heart with yours. Yours is filled with scars and tears.” “Yes,” said the old man. “Yours is perfect looking, but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love—I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty space in my heart. Because the pieces aren't exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish because they remind me of the love we shared.

“Sometimes I have given away a piece of my heart and the person hasn't returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges— giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open and remind me of the love I have for these people too—and I hope some day they return and fill the space I have waiting.

“So now do you see what true beauty is?”

The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his young perfect heart and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the man with trembling hands. The old man took his offering—placed it in his heart and then took a piece of his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man’s heart. It fit, not perfectly as there were some jagged edges.

The young man looked down at his heart, not perfect anymore—but more beautiful than ever since love from the old man's heart flowed into his.

They embraced and walked away side by side.[1]

Jesus Christ entered into the place where his disciples had gathered in fear of the Jews, their hearts cowering in the darkness. Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you.” He breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”

Jesus gives them his peace, and shows them his scars and there is great rejoicing when they recognize him. Jesus offers them his peace and then his spirit, and he offers these same things to us who continue in their stead today.

The scars on his hands and side are for his love for all of creation. And by taking these wounds he has done what is necessary to make us well. I beg now ask you, are we willing to make the same sacrifice for Jesus and for others Jesus made for us? Will we offer the Lord a piece of our heart to fill the void left when he took the shame of crucifixion? Will we give our hearts to him as he gave to us? Will we give to one another as he gave to us?

This sacrifice is difficult. This sacrifice can only be made out of love, the perfect love Jesus makes available to us through his sacrifice. We can never make this sacrifice for ourselves; we can only make this sacrifice to give glory to God.

Will there be gouges left where others fail to return your giving? Surely there will. Will there be pain? Yes, after all, we can only be hurt by those we love. People we don’t love don’t have the power to take a piece of our heart. But with the Lord as our example, when we give our lives for others in the name of Jesus Christ, there is life eternal.

[1] This is an old story; I don’t remember where I read it first. This version was found on line at http://www.suite101.com/discussion.cfm/npd/53426/385254 in a discussion thread on narcissism.