“Look, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands; your walls are continually before me.” Isa 44:16
God has always confirmed His presence among His people with a physical sign.
Manna was an obvious one. God’s sufficiency to meet a daily requirement for sustenance is what sustained His people. Their physical need was met by supernatural provision.
The tabernacle was another. It provided the space whereby spiritual atonement for sin might take place. Physical, ritualistic sacrifices were made there. An unblemished animal was sacrificed as evidence that supernatural pardon of sin was not only possible but had actually occurred.
Signs always point to something beyond their own manifestation. The meaning of these occurrences, as spectacular and strange as they often were, transcends their own utility.
In fact, God’s presence being marked by a sign happens so often throughout the Scriptures that a pattern is established. From Moses to Pentecost examples are abundant. Miracles verifying the supernatural hand of God were not that uncommon back then. But the pattern also reveals that these supernatural, physical signs are only temporal. They always dissolve away. The Red Sea parted and then collapsed. Manna fell for a time. The tabernacle was maintained during a season. The sign gifts waned and eventually disappeared.
However, here, a different type of miracle is meant to convey a different sort of message — “I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands.”
Once again, the pattern is followed. The miracle of God made flesh literally happened. “By placing the eternal, existing truth together with existing, the eternal truth itself has come into existence in time” (Kierkegaard). And we know that His purpose here — to save His people from their sins — transcended everything else He would accomplish and endure. Therefore, His other miracles always point us to His ultimate miracle, which was also His mission. The sacrifice of His body made evident that supernatural pardon of sin was more than just a possibility, it had actually occurred.
But here, the pattern is also broken. Unlike other momentary signs and miracles, this one still remains. Unlike the other sacrifices left in ashes, this One was resurrected. And unlike the other offerings, no other offer need be made ever again…because the inscription has not disappeared. Greater than all other temporal miracles throughout Scripture, this sign was written in such a way that its meaning is more than time and space might contain. It marks the eternal sacrifice for sin, not merely a temporal one. God incarnate is a radical idea. The incarnate God as a sacrifice even more so. But that the eternal, incarnate and sacrificial God would bear a reminder of the most horrific moment that has ever occurred…how absurd! What then is this inscription?
First of all, consider how distinctly the inscription is written. Most inscriptions are written by pen, but this one was “penned” with a nail. Many inscriptions are recorded with ink, but this one was “written” by blood. Other inscriptions are noted on paper, or if particularly meaningful, the message is etched in stone. But this inscription was “chiseled” into the flesh of a man. What other inscription has ever been written like this one?
Also, consider that this inscription is a scar. Manna was sweet to the taste. The Arc of the Covenant was ornate. Pentecost turned the world upside down. But, a scar? A blemish? A scar is rather ordinary — just a former wound that has healed. We all bear scars. It is also ugly — just a mark signifying something painful has occurred. And it usually means that something unintentional has happened as well. After all, what man in his right mind has ever desired a scar?
When compared to other spectacular miracles that either sustained physical life, renewed spiritual life, or inaugurated a new way of life altogether, how ironic that an ugly, ordinary scar should convey such a wondrous, extraordinary message.
To really understand the implications of this message one must closely consider the tone within the context. This is the key. Read this statement again, in this way: “I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands; your walls are continually before me.” In just sixteen words, personal pronouns — I, you, my, your and me — are used thirty percent of the time. Why is this significant?
The personal tone means that the blemish is not unintentional. In a sense this wound is self-inflicted -- “I have inscribed…on my hands.” Yet, in another way, it is not only a self-inflicted wound, because the wound is for the sake of another. The object of the inscription is “you.” In other words, were it not for you, this inscription would never have needed to be written in the first place. Furthermore, were it not for you this inscription could not have been written either. Just as you are the aim of the inscription, you are also its cause. It was written for you, and in a sense, it was written because of you as well.
But the tone also conveys an even deeper meaning. Not only is the inscription intentional, it is also personal. Since you are written on His hands, the inscription somehow bears your identity. And whether it is realized or not, you were there before it happened (or there would have been no motive). You were there when it happened (or there would have been no execution). And you are still there. Otherwise, there would be no inscription. Both the means of the scar and its end are personal. The message was because of you, and at the same time, you are part of the actual message.
But, what about the actual inscription itself?
What does it mean that you are inscribed, and even further, that you are inscribed in the likeness of a scar?
That the inscription occurs as a scar on an actual, living person is important to consider. This is far different than spontaneous bread or an animal sacrifice, an ornate ark or even spectacular wind and fire. That the inscription is written on a man tells us something more than what the message alone might say. It tells us something significant about the Man himself.
Scars shape our identities. Whether physical or psychological, intentional or unintentional, when someone is scarred, it changes his identity. He becomes someone a bit different than he was before. For better or worse, a scar leaves a lasting mark. So when this Man intentionally takes on a scar, His identity is also changed. Whereas before He was identified by an unblemished nature, now a blemish also marks His identity. The only unblemished Man that has ever lived became blemished. He became the blemished-unblemished Man.
But consider even further how our own identities must be shaped by His new identity. We are that blemish on the unblemished One. We are the mark He intentionally sought to have. We are the wounded who have been healed. In other words, this inscription has become our common ground with God. Our identities are now united with His eternal identity. No longer confined by a mere temporal existence, we now have an existence for eternity with Him. And His inscription signifies our new identity.
What then has ever been as beautiful as this ugly blemish?
And show me another god who bears a scar like this one! What other god has condescended to His people, living with them only to die because of them, in order to save them? What other god bears your name on his flesh? What other god has become a sacrifice for your sake, in order to share an identity with you? Answer: only the blemished-unblemished God.
At times we may feel forgotten by God. Perhaps more often, being consumed in the tyranny of our urgent lives, we forget about Him altogether. We forget that the concerns of our day-to-day lives also concern Him -- “your walls are continually before me.” Remember, we now share an identity with this God. Remember that His wound becoming healed now signifies our salvation. Remember that He remembers us “continually.”
And above all, remember that one day all of our blemishes will be gone, and all of our wounds will be healed, but His scars will remain.
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