I've been thinking a lot about resurrection and what it means. My five year old son is excited for his resurrection body, because he'll be able to go through doors when they are shut. I feel excited about the scars.
I have long thought it is intensely interesting that the risen Christ bears "the print of the nails." If I'd planned it, I'd have healed those up. When I play God, I want the wounds to disappear and the flesh to be as if there were never nails or thorns or the rough wood of the cross. God begs to differ. We only know about one resurrected body, Jesus', and we know that Jesus enters new life carrying the deepest scars of the old.
So will I. If I think that God is going to remove the evidence of either the sin I've committed or the sin I've suffered, I've got another thing coming. The scars will all be there when creation is renewed. When I meet Jesus face to face, I'll see his. He already sees mine. There's no point in pretending.
That's what's so exciting. If I believe, and I do, that I have been born by baptism into the renewed creation starting now then I can claim my scars today. I can look at the scars I've caused and the ones I carry in my flesh. I don't have to show them off, but neither do I have to hide them.
Jesus says, "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe," but I suspect that most of us are more like Thomas. I am. It's easier for me to believe when I see the scars, both my own and others'. Did Thomas really touch the wounds of Christ? Maybe. Or maybe it was enough that the offer was made. If I'm called to bear the image of God, like Christ, then I need to make the offer too.