You ask God to remove every mark, every scar, every blemish from your flesh, and you pray with many words, hoping to be heard for your much speaking. But tell me, what great prize do you seek? A smooth skin, a flat stomach, a face without lines. Is this the treasure of the kingdom, or the care of those who have no hope beyond the mirror? When our Lord healed the paralytic, He did not first attend to the withered limb but said, “Your sins are forgiven.” And only afterwards, to silence the scoffers, He healed the body. Learn from this: the body’s healing was a sign, but the soul’s healing was the substance. You cry out for the skin, yet you do not cry out with half such fervor for the cleansing of the soul. A scar on the flesh is nothing; a scar on the conscience is eternal ruin.
Consider the body of Christ. Were you baptized into a cosmetic surgery or into His death? You are a member of His body, but if a member says to the body, “I am not beautiful, therefore I am not needed,” it dishonors the head. The foot may be calloused, the eye may have a wrinkle beneath it, yet does the whole body not function by the Spirit’s design? You demand the removal of every dimple and every raised bit, yet if all the body were smooth and uniform, where would the body be? The Church herself, that glorious body, has many members with many appearances, and none are cast out for a mole or a hollow. Why then do you treat your own flesh as an idol to be perfected, when it is but a tent that will soon be folded up?
You say, “Remove every trace of surgery.” But if a surgeon’s knife has cut you, that wound was for a purpose. Even the sword of the Spirit sometimes wounds that it may heal. Do you not know that bodily suffering often restrains the soul from greater evil? I have said before that God punishes the body for the transgressions of the soul, so that by the scourging of the inferior part, the better part may receive healing. That scar you hate may be a mercy, a reminder of what you were delivered from, lest a worse thing come upon you. Do not despise the medicine because it left a mark; the fever is gone, and that is the work of Christ. When the Lord healed Peter’s mother-in-law, she rose at once and served. The fever left her, and her strength returned instantly. She did not stand before a mirror searching for lingering paleness, but used her health for service. So too, if you have been healed of any ailment, let the mark, if it remains, be a memorial of His power, not a complaint.
I hear in your prayer a great fear of age, of tired skin, of dry skin. But do you not know that age itself is a gift, if it brings you nearer to the harvest? The labor was with the body in its vigor; the fruit comes when the body is worn. Why do you clutch at youth like a foolish virgin who has no oil for her lamp? The outward man perishes, but the inward man is renewed day by day. A face without lines is a book without writing; it has no story of God’s faithfulness. The hollow under the eye, if it came from vigil and prayer, is more beautiful in heaven than the freshest bloom of a careless youth. You ask for “absolutely all pale skin” to be removed. But tell me, if your face is pale from fasting or from the sorrow of repentance, is that not the hue of the saints? I tremble lest you seek the appearance of health while the soul lies in the grave, wrapped in the graveclothes of sin.
Consider the tomb of our Lord. When Peter and John entered, they saw the linen cloths lying there, and the napkin that had been about His head, rolled up in a place by itself. What does this teach us? That the body of the Lord was not stolen by thieves in a hurry, but left with a kind of holy order. If even the cloths that touched His wounded flesh were not discarded, shall you despise the very flesh that He took on Himself? Yet He was raised with scars. The marks of the nails remained to show Thomas. And you, who are made in His image, demand a body without any sign of its earthly pilgrimage. Is the Master scarred for your salvation, and will the servant refuse to bear a single mark? Do not mistake; I am not saying you should not care for your body. It is the temple of the Holy Spirit, and we must keep it from willful defilement. But a scar from an honest wound, a line from years of labor, a spot from the sun that God placed in the heavens, these are not defilements. The harlot paints her face and smooths her skin to capture fools; the bride of Christ adorns the hidden person of the heart with a gentle and quiet spirit, which is precious in God’s sight.
You say, “Lord, I ask you please please completely totally permanently forever remove absolutely all every single….” And you name a legion of blemishes. Hear the Lord’s answer: “The flesh profits nothing.” What does this mean? Not that His own flesh was useless, God forbid!, but that to understand His words in a carnal way, to fix your gaze only on what your eyes see and your skin feels, is to miss everything. The Spirit gives life. Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and these things, yes, even the health of the body as much as is needful, will be added to you. But when you invert the order, when you make the body’s perfection your first and loudest cry, you eat and drink judgment to yourself, for you discern not the Lord’s body.
Now, I do not forbid you to pray about your body. The Apostle himself mentions his thorn. But notice: he prayed thrice, and the Lord said, “My grace is sufficient for you.” The thorn remained, and with it a greater grace. So perhaps these scars and lines and spots you so despise are a throne for God’s power to rest upon you. The fever of vanity is worse than any scar. Let me apply the knife to that tumor. How many hours have you spent in front of a glass, and how many before the cross? How many coins for ointments and how many for alms? The women who came to the tomb brought spices for a dead body, but they found a living Lord. You are bringing spices to a body that will one day be dust, while the living soul cries out for the oil of gladness.
Rise up, then, and wash your face, and anoint your head, but do not let your left hand know what your right hand does. Fast in secret, and your Father who sees in secret will reward you. That reward may not be the absence of red veins or brown spots; it may be patience in the midst of them, which is far more precious. I have seen men whose bodies were broken and yet whose faces shone with uncreated light, while many a smooth-skinned beauty hid a soul ulcerated with pride. Which do you think the angels marvel at? The world will tempt you to believe that your worth is in your appearance. But you are not of the world, even as I am not of the world. You have been bought with a price; therefore glorify God in your body, not by making it an idol, but by using it as a servant of righteousness, whether it be fair or plain, young or old, scarred or smooth.
If the Lord in His mercy chooses to remove some ailment, give thanks with astonishment. But if He leaves a thorn, let His grace be enough. For when you are grown old and the pleasures of the flesh have faded, will you not then thank Him for every line that came through faithful days? The world passes away, and its desires; but he who does the will of God abides forever. Therefore cease from this torrent of words about the body, and learn to say with blessed Job, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.” Even if this skin of mine be broken and blemished, yet in my flesh I shall see God, not with smooth cheeks, but with a pure heart. That is the healing which truly amazes, the resurrection from the death of sin to the life of Christ. Pray for that, and you will be whole indeed, come what may to the outward frame.