The Measure of his Wounds
“Touch me, and see.”
This striking 15th-century German woodcut offers a vivid visual contemplation on the central mystery of our faith. At the image's heart stands the figure of Christ, his wounds displayed as tangible proof of his suffering and death on the cross. Indeed, his wounds are not only displayed: they are so predominant as to have eclipsed the rest of his body and being. The side wound stands in place of his whole physicality. His hands and his feet are dismembered, that as bearers of the wounds, they may stand as symbols of devotions. And in place of his face, the Veronica’s veil, bearing his image.
The inscription reads, in part, “This is the length and width of Christ's wound which was pierced in his side on the Cross. This little cross standing in Christ's wound measured 40 times makes the length of Christ in his humanity.”
This focus on Christ's physical wounds echoes and elevates the testimony of the Apostle John, who wrote of "that which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life" (1 John 1:1).
Just as the first disciples encountered the risen Lord and could see and touch his wounds, this image invites the viewer into a similar encounter. The inscription promises indulgences to those who reverently kiss the wound in Christ's side, reflecting a sincere (if misguided) desire to engage directly with the saving power of Christ's sacrifice. Of course, we must never reduce the Gospel to a system of rewards and punishments. Rather, the blood of Christ freely cleanses us from all sin, creating true fellowship between believers based not on our own merit, but on the faithfulness of our Lord.
Ultimately, as we consider the wounds by which we are healed: as the fill our attention, occluding all else, even the things of God, and Jesus himself, we come to a deep reminder us that our redemption rests not on our own efforts, but what God has accomplished in Christ through his incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection. It is Christ's steadfast love, rent open and shed abroad for us, not our own strength, that is the true foundation of the new covenant community. May this image inspire us to cling ever more closely to the One who has overcome sin and death, that we might ever walk in the light of his grace and mercy.
They still disbelieved for joy and were marveling
— Luke 24:41
Second Sunday of Easter
Texts for Today
Prayer
Almighty and everlasting God, who in the Paschal mystery established the new covenant of reconciliation: Grant that all who have been reborn into the fellowship of Christ’s Body may show forth in their lives what they profess by their faith; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.
The Rose
Ola Gjeilo's choral work "The Rose" can be read as a beautiful and evocative reflection on the central mystery of our faith - the suffering and sacrifice of Jesus Christ. The text, penned by the 19th C Anglican poet, Christina Rosetti, draws on the rich imagery of the rose, and guide us to ponder the paradoxical beauty and pain that converge at the heart of the Gospel.
The rose, with its delicate petals and thorny stem, becomes a symbol of the Savior whose glory is inseparable from his wounds. As the lyrics observe, "The lily has a smooth stalk / Will never hurt your hand / But the rose upon her briar / Is lady of the land." The rose points us to Christ, whose majesty and power are not divorced from his humble humanity and the marks of his passion.
This theme of Christ's woundedness reverberates powerfully through the Scriptures we have contemplate this week. Just as the risen Lord displayed his pierced hands and side to his disciples, inviting them to behold the tangible reality of his suffering and death, so too this poetic text summons us to gaze upon the "glowing heart" of the rose - a heart that has been "half unfold[ed]" through the thorn-crowned sacrifice of our Savior.
Indeed, it is this union of beauty and pain, of glory and humility, that lies at the heart of the Gospel. For it is through Christ's wounds that we find the fullness of God's redeeming love, a love that "sets the world on fire" with its transformative power. As the Apostle John testified, "the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin" (1 John 1:7) - a truth that this musical meditation invites us to ponder and embrace.
May the haunting melodies and evocative imagery of "The Rose" draw us ever deeper into the mystery of Christ's passion, that we might walk in the light of his wounded yet victorious love. For it is in his wounds that we find the wellspring of our salvation and the path to true fellowship with one another.
