Wounded Healer

St. Andrew's Episcopal Church, Mer Rouge, La. 

I have a scar on my knee. It’s not actually a very impressive scar. You probably wouldn’t notice it even if I were wearing shorts this morning!

But I enjoy telling the story of getting it anyway. I even think of the story in church sometimes because it involves sheep. In fact, I can’t NOT think of it when scripture reminds us, “all we are like sheep who have gone astray”!

You see, sheep are not very smart. One day on a small farm in Iowa, I and my brothers were helping my father in the barn when suddenly the skies opened and the rains came down—huge, drenching, rains.

Our small flock of ewes and newborn lambs was grazing in a pasture nearby. “Quick,” my father said, “get the lambs.”

And we all rushed into the pasture, took a soaking wet lamb into our arms and ran into the barn—the mother following us, of course—then back for another and another until all had been saved.

Sheep will stand in a heavy rain until the lambs get cold and water-logged, fall to the ground and die. 

The scar happened because, running to the barn with an armful of wet lamb in a downpour, I failed to see a hunk of barbed wire on the ground and ran into it, ripping open my knee.

No big deal, really. Didn’t even go to the doctor. With no medical insurance, it had to be a lot worse than that to merit a trip to the doctor!

But I enjoy telling the story. It tells you something about me. It gives me a bit of “street cred,” if you will, or I guess “farm cred” would be a better term.

Today’s Gospel story often gets used to talk about things like Thomas’ doubting, his need to get visual confirmation of the resurrection of Jesus, and his ultimate, powerful statement of faith.

I, myself, have used this story to preach about how it is okay to be a bit skeptical, to ask questions and to wait and see. After all, the other 11 also didn’t believe the women when they first burst into the room claiming they had seen Jesus! So Thomas certainly should not take the rap alone!

And the story is about those things..., but I think that focus passes over something very, very important—namely, Jesus showing the disciples his scars, and then breathing the Holy Spirit into them.

See, he doesn’t just show his scars to Thomas! Why do we overlook that?  Look again at these opening verses (John 20:19-31, NRSV).

First, Jesus comes and stands among them and says, Peace be with you. Then he shows them his scars. Then, John says, the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.

In other words, he was there, he spoke, but they did not ‘see him’ and rejoice until after he had shown them his scars. And now that he has their full attention and recognition, he repeats his offering of peace, and then he breathes the Holy Spirit into them.

So, you see, Thomas, a week later, is merely a repeat performance. How interesting that we focus on him. I suspect it is because we identify with his expressed need to see for himself.

And what do we miss when we do that? We miss what Jesus is telling us about scars, and the beauty and power of scars.

Those disciples were a pretty hurting bunch, don’t you think? Their charismatic leader had been struck down! Their hopes and dreams shattered! The one who was to deliver all of Isreal from oppression was dead!

His followers scattered; some headed home to Emmaus. The disciples hid in locked houses for fear that they would be next. And when Jesus appears to them, they hang back. They’re not sure. They’re anxious. “Peace,” he says, and they’re still not sure.

And then he shows them his scars! And they rejoice. They are healed from their own woundedness. They are ready to receive from him the breath of life once again. And they go out and change the world.

A Roman Catholic priest, Henri Nouwen, wrote a highly acclaimed book about ministry in contemporary society called “The Wounded Healer.” It is just a thin little 100 pages, but if you read online reviews of this book, you will find that it has changed people’s lives.

Jesus is, of course, the original wounded healer. His scars healed his disciples and they heal us today. They are not merely physical proof that, yeah, this is the same guy we saw hanging on the cross three days ago! That is the least of their value! 

Rather, Jesus' scars say, this man loved, and suffered—even death on the cross—and he’s back… loving us again!

He was betrayed—not only by The Betrayer, but by every one of us who runs away when the going gets tough or fails to acknowledge that we know him. Yet here he is… loving us still!

We have all been wounded. We all have scars.

Our deepest scars are NOT those we get carrying rain-soaked lambs into a barn! 

Our deepest scars are those we get loving and losing. We love and lose jobs, dreams, identities that we are deeply invested in, our health.. and hardest of all, people.

We lose friends, relatives and lovers, colleagues, people we minister to, heroes and villains—you know, the ones we love to hate. And every loss, whether by distance, neglect, estrangement, rejection, betrayal or death, wounds us.

Our natural human tendency is to protect our selves, to curl up somewhere and lick our wounds. And to swear we will never allow ourselves to be hurt like that again. We might even engage in compensatory behaviors to hide our scars from others.

And no one is more dangerous to self and others.. than the one who is hiding scars. Fr. Richard Rohr says, If we cannot embrace our own suffering, we will inflict it on others.

On the other hand, to know and accept ourselves as God’s beloved is to embrace our woundedness, to see our scars as beautiful and to follow Jesus the Christ in daring to love again.

That is the way of the cross, and it is the only way… to be God’s love in the world.

AMEN