Let’s face it: we’ve all seen people who aren’t considered the height of beauty. Some of you may even look at yourselves in the morning and remember days gone by when your skin was smooth, glowing brightly with life and vigor. But now, you may feel as if your skin is sallow and dry, the fountain of youth long gone.
But it’s not just looking at yourself in the mirror. You may see others, and what you see may dishearten you. You see someone who has poor hygiene habits. Another is overweight. Someone suffered an injury that now disfigures him for life.
And yet, all that being what it is, when we consider someone else as ugly, that says as much about us as it does that person. For example, we might dislike someone because he reminds us of our struggles (even if we don’t want to admit that). When my mother still drove, before Alzheimer’s took that away from her, I remember her saying, “Why is that oldie on the road?” My mom recognized the other person shouldn’t be driving. She knew that, and that bothered her. But somehow she still refused to see what that other driver reminded her of in herself.
If I’m struggling with a weight problem, I may not want to associate with others who have the same problem. Why would I want someone else to remind me of my binge eating a bag of Cheetos last night? Whatever happened to the Lenten fast?
If a smelly, unhygienic person repulses us, can it be because we’re preoccupied with our cleanliness? If we look down on the poor, can it be that our relative wealth has caused us to see ourselves as better than them? If we turn our faces away from the disabled, pretending not to see, can it be that we fear a wheelchair will someday await us?
If we’re honest with ourselves, we know that we have our faults. I mean, isn’t that why people wear makeup, to help hide the flaws we have and accentuate our good features? Even celebrities known for their beauty have their good sides and their bad sides.
And many actors, whom the public admire, are obsessed with correcting their perceived flaws, getting plastic surgery after plastic surgery to correct this or that. Often, they look worse than when they began their pursuit of perfection and beauty.
What’s at the root of this mess? You know—it’s sin. Sin is at the root of why we may not like the way we look. And sin is also behind the disfigurements, failings, and aging that afflict our minds and bodies. The sin that each of us has inherited from Adam and Eve, our first parents, inevitably leads to, not only our appearance withering away, but everything else that ails our bodies and minds.
But far more important than our outward appearance is our spiritual condition. By nature, each of us, without the beauty of Christ’s righteousness, is just downright ugly to God. That’s our inborn sin disfiguring us. And God’s Law, like a precise, magnifying mirror, shows every sinful blemish and pimple. Were it not for Christ, God would banish us from His presence forever.
As we know, appearances can deceive. Maybe you remember someone from your youth who dazzled you with his or her beauty. But as time went on, she (as I remember) began to grow uglier because she acted so badly toward others. Her horrible behavior marred and disfigured the original beauty that had, at first, bedazzled me.
Think about the beautiful people throughout history. Think of Helen of Troy, whose beautiful face was said to have launched 1,000 ships. Think of Bathsheba. King David risked everything he had after seeing her bathe in the moonlight at night. Think of Salome, whose seductive dancing led King Herod to promise her half of his kingdom.
But our history rarely mentions the beauty of men, probably because men have written most of the history we read. I suppose we have the statue of Michelangelo’s David. But among all the men who ever lived, if anyone should’ve been dazzlingly handsome, you’d think that it would be Jesus. After all, He was the Son of God. He was sinless and perfect in every way.
Yet, what does our Old Testament reading foretell about Jesus?
Just as many were appalled at him, so disfigured was his appearance: He did not look like a man, and his form no longer resembled a human being…. He had no stately form or majesty that we should look at him, no appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by others, and a man of sorrows, familiar with suffering. Like someone from whom people hide their faces, he was despised, and we held him in low esteem. [Isaiah 52:14; 53:2c-3]
In our mind’s eye, we may see Jesus as an impressive, dignified, and majestic man—a perfect physical specimen. Some movies have depicted Him that way. However, the New Testament never describes what Jesus looked like physically. All it gives us is this description of Jesus growing up: “And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man” (Luke 2:52).
Scripture tells us about King David’s height and how tall Goliath was. But we hear barely a word about how tall Jesus was or what color hair He had. Vain human beings that we are, we often judge superficially. If we didn’t know it was Jesus, we might think Him unexceptional.
But whatever His appearance, Scripture tells us that, many times, others around Jesus fulfilled this prophecy of Scripture: They spurned and rejected Him. People turned away from Him. They averted their eyes and closed their ears to His preaching.
Throughout Lent, the season brings to our focus the events that will take place during Holy Week. In Jesus, we find Isaiah’s prophecy of Him as the suffering servant, find its literal fulfillment in the physical violence that Jesus suffered, leading to His death. The Romans beat, scourged, and crucified Him, which was a repulsive sight in the ancient world. It would be the same today, should we visibly see it.
Jesus was ugly to the eye: iron nails pierced His hands and His feet, a crown of thorns cut into His brow, and a soldier’s spear gashed His side. Who would want to fix his gaze on such a sight? As Isaiah foretold, Jesus’ appearance would have appalled many, so disfigured was He. He had no stately form or majesty that we should look at Him, no appearance that we should desire Him.
But it’s when we consider WHY Jesus became so ugly, that it then begins to change our view of Him. Earlier, I had mentioned a girl from my youth who, at first, looked so beautiful, who turned ugly as her behavior continued to blemish her looks. With Jesus, it works in the opposite direction.
Oh, Jesus was physically ugly: wounds marred and disfigured Him, which He willingly accepted on our behalf. He took into Himself the ugliness of our sin. Our sins caused the sinless One to become sin itself (2 Corinthians 5:21). And so, Christ suffered God’s wrath for the sin that He bore in our place, which He removed far from us.
But with Jesus, beauty flows in the opposite direction. He is beautiful, not because of His appearance, but because of His sinless behavior. The One who “had no stately form or majesty that we should look at him, [the one who had] no appearance that we should desire him” now becomes our “beautiful Savior.” “Jesus shines brighter, Jesus shines purer than all the angels in the sky” (LSB 537, 3). His appearance is majestic beyond compare, even though it was by His ugly wounds that He earned for us eternal life.
Indeed, “those dear tokens of His passion still His dazzling body bears, [which are now the] cause of endless exultation to His ransomed worshipers.” “With what rapture gaze we on those glorious scars” (LSB 336, 3).
Jesus, whom others despised and rejected, receives any, and all, who come to Him in faith. Jesus says, “I will never turn away anyone who comes to me” (John 6:37). No one is too ugly for Jesus, not you, not me, not even the ugliest person you’ve ever seen.
God sees through appearances. Dear baptized child of God, when God looks at you, He now sees you robed in Christ’s righteousness. “For all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ” (Galatians 3:27). God doesn’t see your ugly sin but, instead, the splendor of your Savior’s holiness. By grace, through faith, so will you ever be before God the Father through His Son in the Holy Spirit.
Appearances can be deceiving. After all, the Church is crammed with people made ugly by sin. We come to each service as wounded sinners, carried in by the blind, led by the mute, even as the deaf sing prayers for healing.
But in Christ, who we are doesn’t stop there. In Christ, you become beautiful. And, in Christ, that’s how we also see others. So, what about that other person whom sin has made hideous? Jesus Christ has redeemed that person! With the eyes of Christ, you see him as Christ sees you.
It is as Prophet Isaiah says elsewhere in His Old-Testament book:
I find joy in the Lord; my soul delights in my God, for he has clothed me in garments of salvation and wrapped me in a robe of righteousness. I look like a bridegroom wearing a priestly crown, like a priest with a garland, like a bride adorned with her jewels. [Isaiah 61:10]
In Christ, everyone is beautiful. And so you are, dear saint of God. Amen.
