| “I love that He chose to keep his scars when He came back”, my Dad’s voice hardly carried as it hit the brisk air filled with frigid ocean mist. We were trekking all along the rugged Maine coastline, etching it with our footsteps. Thunderous waves slapped the rocky fortresses again and again, the jagged coast unwilling to give in. Standing eye to eye with the ocean, we were looking death in the face at what seemed like the edge of the earth as we hiked around, but at the same time – it felt as steady as could be. Those scars, a reminder of who Jesus is to us – and that wild untamed landscape, a reminder of what life with Him is like. It’s one of my favorite parts of the Easter story. And something I’ve spent more time thinking about this year than others. The way Jesus chose to come back to different people, namely his disciples. The big picture is important, sure. Yet sometimes I find that the details get glazed over and left out..and when that happens I feel like I miss out on Him. It’s those details of His personality and who He is that make the story great. The clues of His personality are everywhere, and it’s those that I want to soak in so badly to understand Him and his love for me even more. His unimaginable sacrifice. His fierce love. Even His sense of humor. The more I get to know Jesus, the more I “get” about His personality and what he’s like, and what He was like as a man. That’s the part I love. Knowing that He’s ‘been there too’. He’s had friends walk away. He’s felt pain – even sweat blood. Anything – whether it’s a feeling, a relationship, a circumstance, He has been there and knows where I am. I think when we look a little closer at who He is and wade slightly deeper than the thousand-foot view of the resurrection – we’ll find things that draw us to Him even more. On the shore of the Sea of Galilee, there Jesus stood as Peter, Thomas and some of the other disciples were out fishing. “Friends, haven’t you any fish?” Jesus calls out to them. Yet, none of them realize it is Him at the time. Then He tells them to “cast their net on the right side of the boat and they will find some”. Immediately, they haul in a BOAT LOAD of fish. Peter then knows it’s Jesus and leaps out of the boat frantically swimming to Him. How incredible is that..Jesus doesn’t run up to them and say, “Hey guys, it’s me!” and yet this is one of the first times He appears to them after his death. No..far too easy for Jesus. Instead He calls out to them and has them haul in more fish than they can handle, in the SAME exact way He met them originally when they became His disciples. It all comes full circle. It’s not an accident that He decides to meet them and appear to them again this way. Oh..and when they finally drag all the fish in that the nets are practically bursting at the seams, the verse says there were “153” of them. 153? Where the heck did that number come from? If you ask me, the disciples were probably so astonished at the number of fish that they began to count them – only to be stopped by Jesus. “153”, Jesus could have said. “What?”, I imagine the disciples murmured back. “There’s 153 of them” Jesus says while smirking. It makes sense to me..a key detail like that one mentioned and He’s out on the shore again with his best friends, fishermen mind you, warming them up with his humor. “Yeah, by the way, there’s 153 of those. Good to see you guys again.” Why not? That Holy Saturday before he rose again..I wonder what it was like. The Messiah was brutalized and crucified. Darkness fell over the land. His friends scattered. Hope was lost. And none of them could have known what was to come next. I try and put myself in their shoes on that Saturday. What was Peter thinking…? It’s easy to celebrate and feel joy when we know the great ending (or should I say beginning?) of the story. But to be there, in that moment on that day, I can’t imagine the darkness and loss of hope that had taken all who knew him under it’s shadowed wing. “It’s a day to sit in the tension of faith and doubt…honoring any deconstruction you might be going through. It’s a day for stark, deafening silence.” as Stephen Proctor puts it. He goes on to say that he doesn’t like to rush into Easter too quickly…because it alleviates the tension and causes you to miss out on the present moment of the story. There is something tragically beautiful to behold on that day. The sacrifice He paid and the scars He kept..that’s where I’m at this Easter. He could’ve came back with an unblemished body, He could’ve come back with an army of angels and struck down his foes, He could have thrown a massive party, He could’ve ran right up to each of his close friends and beloved mother and hugged them right away shouting, “I’m alive! I’m alive!”. But He didn’t..that’s just not him. He had fun with it..you can tell. And it unfolded the way it was meant to. His way. I love that He kept his scars because it reminds me that He settled the score and paid the ultimate debt. That His flesh bled and tore just like mine is capable of doing – but doesn’t have to because of him. I love that He kept his scars because it’s what made Jesus fully human. And to believe that, that He was truly human – is the beginning of realizing his great personality. It’s the ones with the scars that he uses to do his work. Seeing that he wore his after he could’ve gotten rid of them, why should I hide mine? |