If you’ve lived any length of time, you will have experienced your share of wounds. When I was a teenager, I took out the trash because my mother told me to. Little did I know, a piece from that trash bag had cut into the side of my hand, and even today I can see that scar. I have other scars, evidence of wounds I’ve suffered in the past, and each of them tell a story. Somehow, we manage to survive our wounds to bear the scars.
Jesus had wounds, the worst of which He experienced at the cross. He bore wounds from the lashing of the whips and scourging. His back was laid open to the bone from the intensity of that punishment, but at least He could still breathe, though blood loss was going to complicate things. He bore wounds on his scalp from the crown made from a thorn-bush. The thorns were easily two inches long and were thrust upon his head in a grotesque mocking of his true royalty. He led through the streets of Jerusalem, humiliated by the crowds, bearing the wounds of their insults and derision. Finally, the wounds that would scar Him forever, nails were pounded into his hands and feet into wood, and there held aloft on the cross. There, He could not breathe, but for a few strangled gasps. Still, He stayed there three hours, bearing the insults of the religious elite, and even those who called Him the “Son of David” and cried “Hosanna” just a few days earlier. He died there, asking His Father to forgive them.
A week after He rose from the dead, He appeared to Thomas, who doubted that Jesus had actually risen. Jesus appeared to Thomas and asked him to touch where the nails had bit into his hands and feet, and where the spear had been thrust into His side. He said this to prove to Thomas that He was the same Jesus who had died, and not an some heavenly imposter. Thomas said the only thing he could have, “My Lord and my God!” The resurrected Jesus bears the wounds He suffered for us for eternity. Just as He continues to save us from our sins, so He continues to bear the wounds that delivered us from sin. “By His wounds, we are healed.”
Just as your wounds tell a story, so do His. His tell the story of His great love for His brethren, His love for His bride. It seems that we too have this story to tell of the wonders of His great love.
Dear Jesus, thank You for reminding me today that I am bought at a great price. Just as the story of the man who found a pearl and sold all that he had, So You gave all that You had to purchase me. I am no longer my own, but I am Yours. There is a divine slavery, in which the Owner bought His servants with His own lifeblood, and the servants are forever grateful. May we each realize that our slavery to to our benefit and to the benefit of the world. In Your Name I pray dear Jesus, Amen.