Tuesday, April 16, 2024

By These Wounds -- Third Sunday of Easter

Luke 24:36b-48

April 14, 2024

 

            My mom warned me and warned me to stay away from our next door neighbor’s motorcycles. The teenage boys next door had a lot of motorcycles. My parents weren’t crazy about them – the motorcycles, not the teenage boys – and they didn’t want me near them. They could be dangerous, and I was too young to be on one. Also, they said “no!” But I thought they were fascinating.

One summer day, when I was probably 8 or 9, I saw my neighbor pull up to his house on his bike, turn it off, and go into the house. I decided to go look at it. I was just going to look at it. I wasn’t going to do anything else. But it turned out that looking at it wasn’t enough. So, I decided to climb on the seat. What harm could come from climbing on the seat? It wasn’t like I was going to ride it or anything. I climbed onto the seat prepared to do some pretend cruising, but what I didn’t know was that since the motorcycle had just been ridden, the metal on the bike was hot. I was barefoot and wearing shorts. I climbed onto the seat for my “ride” when unfortunately the inside of my ankle touched hot metal. I jumped off immediately and ran home in pain. Touching that hot metal burned my ankle. And it left a scar for a long, long time. The scar is mostly faded now, but for many years it was a visible reminder to listen to my mother.

            A commentator on this passage from Luke’s gospel talked about the stories that our scars tell. When Jesus shows the scars on his hands and feet to the disciples to prove it was him, he was reminding them of the story that led up to that moment. His scars were a visible reminder of who he was and who he is.

            Jesus was also trying to prove to the disciples that he was not a ghost. This is a post resurrection story, and we, the readers, know that Jesus is not a ghost. But this story does seem a little ghostly. Jesus seems able to walk through walls and doors, solid boundaries that no living human could breach. Only ghosts as we understand them in popular culture can do that. I mean one minute Jesus was not there, and the next minute he was standing in their midst. That seems like a ghost to me! But Jesus was not a ghost, and he asks the disciples why they are frightened, and why they have doubts lurking in their hearts? They have been talking about “these things,” and these things refer to the story that immediately precedes ours.

            That story is Jesus meeting two of the disciples on the road to Emmaus. The Emmaus story is probably one of the best known of the post-resurrection stories in the gospels. Two disciples are making their way from Jerusalem to a village called Emmaus. Jesus joins them on the road, but they don’t recognize him. The disciples, Cleopas and another one whose name we don’t know, were talking about everything that had happened in the last few days – the crucifixion of their beloved Rabbi, and the women’s supposedly idle tale about the tomb being empty and receiving a message from angels that Jesus was risen.

            Jesus, an apparent stranger, asks them what they are talking about and why they look so sad. They suppose that he is the only person around who has not heard about everything that has happened, so they fill him on the details of the last few days. Then Jesus, this stranger, begins to interpret the scripture for them in light of what they have seen and heard.

            He goes to leave them, but they encourage him to stay with them. It is getting late in the day, darkness will soon fall, and he should not be out in the night alone. Jesus, still unknown to them, agrees. They sit down to eat, and when Jesus breaks bread with them their eyes were opened. They recognize him! As soon as they do, he vanishes from their sight. Now, these two hightail it back to Jerusalem to tell the other disciples. They too have seen the risen Lord!

            And while they are sharing this incredible story with the others, Jesus again appears in their midst. I guess the story that the two disciples were telling them had not yet sunk in, because when Jesus just appears they are terrified. As has already been said, they think Jesus is a ghost. But Jesus tells them that he is no ghost. This is not a ghost story.

            Look at me, he tells them. Look at my hands and at my feet. Touch my hands and my feet. Touch the scars. See where the wounds were. Does a ghost have flesh and bones? Does a ghost have scars that tell this kind of story? Just as Jesus did for Thomas in John’s gospel, Jesus offers the disciples proof of who he is and what has happened. He was indeed crucified, dead, buried, and now he is resurrected, risen again!

            But their doubts persist. Luke writes,

            “While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering, he said to them, ‘Have you anything here to eat?’ They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate in their presence.”

            I remember a professor in seminary talking about this particular moment and relating to us, his students, that the Greek does not say that Jesus merely ate the fish. He gnawed it. He devoured it, just as any living human would who had not eaten in several days. Jesus is not just a spirit or some ghostly apparition before them. He has flesh and bones and hunger. He has scars that tell the story of what has happened.

            The disciples are overjoyed at this, but still disbelieving. They don’t trust their senses. Then Jesus did for them what he did for the other disciples on the road to Emmaus. He opened their minds to understand the scriptures.

            It seems that an open, enlightened mind is the final, necessary ingredient to belief. When Jesus finishes interpreting the scriptures in light of all that has happened, with his physical presence before them, the complete and unequivocal proof that what he told them before his death has indeed come to pass, he declares to them all,

            “Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witness of these things.”

            You are witnesses of these things. That’s not just a statement of fact, is it? There is an implied imperative in Jesus’ words as well. You are witnesses of these things and therefore you must witness. Starting in Jerusalem, the story, this story, the story that my scars offer, must be told. God’s word of repentance and forgiveness must be preached. And as witnesses of these things, it starts with you.

            What stories do our scars tell? Do they tell of mishaps as children or surgeries as adults? Do they tell stories of disobedience or bravery? Do they tell stories of perseverance and persistence or a willingness to be reckless? What stories do our scars tell? When Jesus offered his hands and feet as proof of his resurrection, he was also sharing the story of his life, his ministry, his authentic humanity. His scars told the story of everything he preached and everything he taught. His scars told of his willingness to do what was considered unlawful, but what he knew was really of God. The scars on Jesus’ hands and feet told the story of the people dined with and the people he welcomed and the people he forgave. They told the story of who he healed and when he healed. Jesus’ scars told the story of the cruelty and barbarity of the powers and principalities, and they told the story of his courage and conviction that would not be swayed and of his obedience to God no matter what the cost.

            Jesus showed the scars on his hands and feet as a testament to his story, and that story is God’s story. His story is the story of God and God’s relationship with us, his children, all of God’s creation. When we hear the words, “by his wounds we are healed,” we may think solely in of the traditional interpretations of atonement. Jesus died so death could be overcome. But it seems to me that there is more to those words. By his wounds Jesus told the story of what it means to live life so fully and completely in relationship with God. By his wounds Jesus told the story of humanity’s cruelty and God’s love. By his wounds Jesus reminds us that we are healed not by magic, but by love – LOVE in all caps. We are healed by love that refuses to give up on us, love that refuses to back down, love that seeks justice and righteousness, love that welcomes, love that includes, love that sees the people we can be, love that sees the people God created us to be.

            By his wounds we are healed. By his scars we are reminded of who he was, who he is, who we are, and what we are called to do. We are called to be witnesses of these things. We are called to share and spread the good news of the gospel. We are called to witness to those wounds and to tell and retell the story of those scars. Thanks be to God.

            Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia.”

            Amen.

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