HANDS

I

Not words only   He used His hand

For laying earth's foundations, spreading

The heavens. In its hollow He measured

The oceans; He balanced the mountains,

Grasped the world's dust. His span

Meted out the constellations, fixing

For each its own trajectory. Man

Issues from His hand, potter's clay,

Supple, with no right to demand,

"What makest Thou?"

And towards Man

All the day He has stretched out both

His hands; to a rebellious people.

Not words only: come, He used His hands

To convey compassion and power. Lepers

He handled   though no leper could emerge from

His touch. Jairus's daughter awoke to feel

Her cold hand in a warm strong one. Mud

He fingered, and the dull eyes soon to begin

To see. The softness of the children's hair

His palms sensed as He blessed them; for how often

Were those hands God prepared lifted blessing?

Yet the hands that healed even His captor

Were restrained by His enemies bonds.

II

Since Adam lifted his sinless hand to steal

All men have used their hands as tools of ill:

Adam began to use his for deceit,

Sewing a flimsy cover because of sin.

And Cain continued to plunge to greater evil,

Staining his hands with Abel's righteous blood:

Building a city to house the unbelieving,

Making the origin of our warped world.

Jubal was father of those who use the harp,

Whose hands are skilled to charm our thoughts from God;

Tubal  Cain first forged tools of iron and brass  

Technology for lawlessness and war.

Against the love of God and His commands,

From then till now Man lifts his words and hands.

Until one Man, at the fulcrum of history,

Lifted His words in obedience to God  

Not words only: His hands operated

Diligently in healing   as commanded to heal;

Blessing   as commanded by God to bless;

Breaking the bread   at His Father's word.

And His hands will never let slip

The entrusted sheep; while the Father's hand

Clasps them too. Even the disciples' feet

Were washed by these dutiful hands

And dried with the linen towel   for refreshment

And for comfort. Such was the Father's delight

He gave all things to be in those hands.

 

III

Fisting their swords, ravaged

Herod's murderous soldiers.

The Nazarenes could not grasp

His time had not yet come.

Nor could the Pharisees handle

Stones to hurl while He stayed.

A more potent weapon

Judas clung to, the bag.

What use were the swords and torches

They gripped as they came to take Him?

Yet they wounded with buffets His face,

More marred than any man's.

As they plaited His crown of thorns

They would watch lest they pierced

Their own hands.

But the women cared:

His mother

Wrapped round Him the swaddling bands prepared

Because of her affection

For Him, more than other,

Lying in infant perfection.

Martha also served

Preparing

All the good things that she had conserved

For Him alone   though her care

Distracted her from repairing

To the rest that He wished she would share.

Her sister, Mary,

Adoring

The One whose love will never vary,

Raised her eager hand to break

Her flask of nard   quickly pouring

An outflow of love for His sake.

IV

His hands were nailed to the cross

Though He used them only to bless

Those in sickness, need and distress

Whom the Pharisees reckoned as dross.

Did they play at pitch and toss

To gamble over His dress?

His hands were nailed to the cross

Though He used them only to bless.

He bore the deepest loss

As He hung for me, I confess;

For He suffered there to express

Greatest love where sin was most gross:

His hands were nailed to the cross.

V

Last words are often famous  

The ruling trait being prominent

At the time of death. "Father,

Forgive them" epitomises

The spirit of the Lord Jesus:

"It is finished" obedience

Of all that His hands had done.

But I cannot consider last words

Without remembering my father's:

"Jesus Christ is the Same, yesterday

And today, and to the ages to come."

Not words only; for his Master's spirit imbued

Him, a man in the twentieth century since Christ

With the same Spirit; his hands consecrated, filled.

As a member of Christ's body it seemed

He was a hand: a giver, a helper, a blesser.

Not words only: last gestures,

Last images fix in the mind.

A Man, in flesh and bone, risen

Out of Death's harsh manacles,

Stood, surrounded by admirers;

Expressing a dispensation

His final action, even ascending,

He blessed, He lifted His hands.