Yesterday, we talked about the icon of Thomas and the Resurrected Christ calling our attention to being both wounded and resurrected at the same time. At first glance, this seems like an odd state to be in. If Christ is risen from the dead, why aren’t the wounds healed and gone? Doesn’t resurrection mean perfected restoration?

The resurrected Christ invites us to reimagine what it means to be “whole.”
The resurrected Christ invites us to reimagine what it means to be “restored.”
The resurrected Christ invites us to reimagine what it means to be “healed.”

If the author of being itself stretched out his arms on the hard wood of the cross to pull together death (the wounds) and life (the resurrection) into his his own body, how does that help us truly see ourselves and our place in the world around us?

Just like Christ, we are a mixture of wounds and wonder, misery and majesty, sorrow and satisfaction. Christ shows us that being fully alive is recognizing we are ‘loved-back-to-life’ even in our woundedness. Our wounds are a part of the glory of being fully alive and fully present to ourselves, each other, and the world around us.

How do your ‘wounds’ present themselves in the new life you know in the resurrection?
Are those ‘wounds’ a glorious part of your ‘body’ or do you ignore and/or deny their presence?
What would life look like if we all acknowledged one another’s wounds as part of our resurrected experience; and in that acknowledgement were grateful for the way Christ pulled both his wounds and his glory together at the resurrection?

About the Author
Isaac Gaff is the Managing Director of Worship and Creative Arts at Calvary UMC