I like to think of myself as a participatory worshipper. I’m the one who can’t stand still during worship. Slow song? I’m swaying. Faster tempo? I’m clapping or bouncing my knees – I’m working up to jumping in place. Often, my hands are raised in various positions as I honor my Lord. Maybe it’s my right hand raised high. Maybe it’s both high above my head in a feeble worldly attempt to reach up to my Father as a child reaches for her mama. And sometimes, it’s arms bent at the elbows, waist high, palms up.
Sunday, as I stood singing with my palms up, the Lord put a thought on my heart. Those palms have the scars of a dying Savior. When I worship in that way, it is a vivid reminder of my Savior’s hands. Hands that bear the scars of a brutal crucifixion. Palms that hold my life and eternity. Palms that bled so that I might live forever in the embrace of my Father.
John Chapter 20 tells us the events of the empty tomb following Jesus’ crucifixion. In verses 11-17, we read about a distraught Mary’s encounter with two angels after she finds the tomb empty. 13 They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him. 14 At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus. 15 He asked her, ‘Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?’ Thinking he was the gardener, she said, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.’ 16 Jesus said to her, “Mary. She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”).
I love this encounter so much. For several reasons. In a time when women were held in lower regard and forbidden from taking part in so much of society, Jesus chose to reveal Himself to Mary. Their love and affection for one another is revealed in one word: “Mary.” When He utters her name, she knows it is Jesus. She doesn’t need to see His hands or His pierced side. All she needed was to hear Him speak her name. She saw Jesus with her heart, not her eyes.
Contrast that encounter with Jesus appearance to the Disciples. We know Mary told the disciples of seeing Jesus, however, we don’t know their reaction to her news. In verses 19-20, we get this account: 19 On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” 20 After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.” We don’t know if the disciples asked to see his hands and side or if Jesus showed them, knowing they wouldn’t believe without proof. Either way, unlike Mary, they were shown the scars so that they could see with their eyes.
Thomas was absent from this gathering and when the disciples told him about Jesus’ appearance, Thomas earns his well-known nickname – doubting Thomas. 25 So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!” But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”
26 A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” 27 Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.” 28 Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”
Thomas needed not only to see with his eyes, but to touch the scars to trust that his Lord and Savior had, indeed, returned. Resurrected just as He promised.
I know this probably sounds like an Easter blog. However, Jesus reminded me on Sunday that everyday I must live out verse 29: Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
Too often I am like Thomas. Screaming, “Show me the scars!” I want proof that things are going to be okay. Proof that God hasn’t abandoned me. Proof that people I love will be protected. Proof when things don’t go my way or money is tight, or life seems unfair. I want to see the scars. I need to see the scars to believe.
I want to be like Mary. I want to see with my heart. The heart that is connected to my Father through the blood and sacrifice of Jesus. The Holy Spirit that Jesus breathed into me the moment I was saved. The Spirit that lets me hear the love-filled voice of my Savior calling my name. “Rhonda, I am here.” “Rhonda, I will never leave you.” The Savior who dances with me in joy and cries with me in sadness. The Savior who gave everything so that I might live.
The Savior who holds me in the palm of His scarred hands.
I challenge you this week, look to your palms. When you are happy, look. When you are sad, look. When you are troubled, look. And remember, you are looking at the hands of your Savior.