Forthright Fixation

Hands, calloused and browned from long hours working in the sun-bright Judean city of Nazareth. Strong and steady on the tools and wood he fashioned into furniture and houses for his kin and customers, they were at ease with hard work. The sinews in his arms and hands grew taut and rippled smooth again and again as he worked.

As he played with his baby nephew, they were gentle and firm—no need for the mother to fear. In his arms there was comfort and safety. Strength met tenderness in those hands, and the mother smiled as she watched him holding her son.

Later, these same hands scratched roughly when he smoothed out the rolled parchment in the synagogue before reading. These were not the soft hands of a scholar, but the power and wisdom in his words left his rough hands quite forgotten by those who listened in eagerness for his teaching.

When he walked the roads and streets of Galilee, his hands would be sought for blessing, for healing, for strength. They lifted the lame to dance in the streets, they rested on eyelids and as the eyes fluttered open, sight was restored. Leprosy fled under his hands’ touch, and songs of joy rang out as tongues were loosened and demons vanquished. These hands of healing restored to the people heart-gladness and hope of salvation.

But the cost of this salvation was unforeseen. When it came, these hands were bound and crushed, the healing fingers grasping for life as nails drove through and tore apart the sinews that held together the hands that hold together the universe. In him, all things hold together, and he was being slain by those whom he died to save.

Soon the hands lay limp on the blood-soaked wood. The life once in him had fled, and darkness shrouded that hillcrest on which he was lifted up in death. Yet, three days later, when he would rise from the dead, these same hands would be strong and full of life again.

These are the hands that hold us. These are the hands that bled that we might be healed. These are the hands that give us our portion and all we could possibly need.

“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.” (John 10:27-30, ESV)

What shall we fear or worry about when these hands surround us?

O LORD, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
You search out my path and my lying down
and are acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue,
behold, O LORD, you know it altogether.
You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is high; I cannot attain it.
Where shall I go from your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me. If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light about me be night,” even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is bright as the day,
for darkness is as light with you.
(Ps. 139:1-12, ESV)

Filed under: Knowing God