“The
Mark Wounds Leave”
John 20:19-31
First Presbyterian Church
Rev. Donald E. Ray
April 19, 2009
Second
Sunday of Easter
It is my good fortune again to be scheduled on the
Sunday following our monthly Creative Worship experience. The
past Wednesday evening, Peggy and Cindy charted a course from the “Old Rugged
Cross” to the multi facetted beauty of the cross as symbol of God’s love. I
have been in settings where “The Old Rugged Cross” has been wailed and
moaned as though the singers themselves were being crucified. Some
having been reared to expect just punishment as necessary to atone for wrongs,
need the vicarious feeling of Jesus’ agony to ease their unresolved guilt. It
was refreshing to move from that to the love that lives beyond the pierced
hands.
Alexander Shaia, who led our seminar on Quadratos
last fall, observes that John describes the hands Jesus showed to doubting
Thomas as bearing “marks” of the nails rather than “wounds.” A
subtle difference perhaps, but it is apparent that John, writing around the turn
of the century was saying the wounds are healing; it’s time to move on from
wimping Pilate, the complicity of the Jews, and Golgatha. Jesus
said to the disciples, “Peace be with you. As
the Father has sent me, so I send you.” Three
times, John writes, Jesus said “Peace be with you. Not revenge; not protracted
pain; not sustained bitterness and swelling hatred, but “peace.”
A dominant thread in the church’s story has been
the agony Jesus had to have suffered in the horror of being nailed to the cross.
The cross became a primary symbol of
Christianity around the second century. By
the fifth century, the crucifix appeared, with the body of Jesus hanging on the
cross. That thread is woven into the
patchwork of humanity’s sinfulness so evil that such sacrifice was necessary;
seeking to avenge Jesus’ death by the persecution of persons of Jewish descent
blamed for having Jesus sentenced to crucifixion; and ultimately, laying
responsibility for it all on the One Jesus called his “Father” for having
required that death to grant personal salvation.
George Bernard’s hymn, The
Old Rugged Cross, has influenced a view of the cross to be revered by
Christians because it is despised, stained with blood, shame and reproach. Its
value is as the instrument of Jesus’ suffering death. Sharing
in that, we will then receive our crown.
By the time John wrote his Gospel, followers of the
Christ had seen
Against the backdrop of all that persecution and
suffering, John shows us a resurrected Jesus, the Christ with the marks of
crucifixion but speaking of peace, breathing life giving Spirit, sending his
people on a mission of forgiving, offering blessing in believing beyond what
they see. In the midst of the reality of suffering and loss, there is healing
and faith and hope.
The stories of Jesus, including the record of his
crucifixion are called “Gospels;” translated, “good news.” The
day remembering Jesus’ death, we call “Good Friday.” I
hope sometime your granddaughter asks you as ours asked me the other day, “Why
do we call it Good Friday?” The
dominant theme of the risen Jesus is; “don’t be afraid, peace, proclaim the
message of life.”
The wounds we suffer in life leave their mark. There
are wounds to the body. Our mind,
emotions, the very soul of our being can be tormented and distressed. Persons
whose loved one has died may hold to the pain of the loss because they feel that
is all they have left. Persons who
have suffered at the hands of another, in willful violence, reckless
irresponsibility, accidentally, may harbor resentment and bitterness. Eugene
Peterson observes that leading characters in novels, poetry and drama are
usually villains and victims because that is what we know. When
injuries are not allowed to heal, the mark that is left is an open, painful,
debilitating wound.
Never to minimize the impact of our wounds, losses
are agonizing, injuries painful and debilitating, injustices cruel and unfair. There
are hurts, destruction, deaths caused by persons, who shouldn’t have caused
them. But, we cannot live in the
pain and torment of keeping the wound open. To
keep those wounds oozing bitterness and hatred, seeking revenge only perpetuates
the pain. Injuries borne as a kind
of badge of what one has suffered make pain and loss a prison.
Grieving is the process of allowing our lives to
fill some measure of the vacant place left by the death of a loved one. The
memories, the values of that life are a far greater treasure to keep than the
pain of the loss. One can move on
with the life that is still there to bring the good that is yet possible beyond.
To seek healing, to release the resentments, even to forgive is to find
peace and openness to new life. Wounds
heal when we allow them to. The
scars they leave are stronger than the bone and flesh, the emotions and spirit
of before.
April has been a month of tragedies. Tomorrow
marks the 10th anniversary of two students’ attempt to blow up
The Tech community gathered Thursday around the 32
small stones at the edge of the Drill Field for a noon ceremony, and again for a
vigil at 8 PM. There they prayed and
cried, remembering the 32 students and teachers killed by Seung-Hui Cho. Otherwise,
the memorial is just a regular part of the campus like Burris Hall or Lane
Stadium. The extent of healing
remains difficult to grasp but two years later, Tech is still doing what it
always sought to do - teach young people and improve lives.
The second floor of Norris Hall where the shooting
rampage took place has been reopened as a Center
for Peace Studies and Violence Prevention . Jerzy Nowak whose wife, a
professor, was one of the 30 students and teachers killed there, has taken a
three year leave from his horticulture faculty position to head the center. Nowak
says that “relocation to Norris Hall has a symbolic character to the families
and friends of the victims, to the survivors, Virginia Tech, to the world.”
Three of the Gospels quote Jesus as saying: “If
anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and
follow me.” (Matthew 16:24; Mark 8:34) Luke,
the Gospel for the path of service even inserts, “daily.” (Luke 9:23) Given
the persecution followers of the Christ endured in those early years, a Gospel
that charged people to take up a symbol of, or a very real instrument of
agonizing death would offer no encouragement.
The cross became a primary symbol of Christianity
by the second century. As the means
of death and it acknowledges the reality of pain and trial, but the bare cross
affirms the resurrection faith that though we may carry the mark of our wounds,
there is healing and life. We
remember Friday, but we celebrate Easter. We
celebrate Easter because Friday is real—because love, God is in and through
the suffering and trials of life. We
celebrate Easter because there is the healing of the wounds of Friday. In
the scars, the mark that is left we find the courage and hope to let the hurt
go, to live through the grieving, to heal and to live in the life God’s Spirit
breaths into us.
A couple of weeks ago I showed the children a rough
wooden cross which is probably more like the one on which Jesus was crucified. I
compared it to the shiny, beautiful cross on the table. Our
cross should be shining and beautiful. It
is still a cross. Its mark is still
of suffering wounds. But it’s
beauty is of the healing and life and love that lives. That
is the cross we take—daily—to follow the Christ.
Amen.