"That Sunday evening the disciples were meeting behind locked doors because they were afraid of the Jewish leaders. Suddenly, Jesus was standing there among them! 'Peace be with you,' he said. As he spoke, he showed them the wounds in his hands and his side. They were filled with joy when they saw the Lord!" - John 20:19-20

I remember my mother’s hands. They were long and beautiful. I believe she would have been a wonderful pianist if she had the opportunity to learn the piano. Her hands held my face when she kissed me goodnight as a young girl, and held my hand when she told me she loved me as a grown woman. They were lovely hands.

But, the loveliest hands of all are the hands of Jesus, for they are the hands that now hold the hands of my mother. The nail-pierced hands of Jesus are the hands of hope and acceptance. They stay the sword and declare, “Peace.” They beckon forward and invite, “Follow me.” They are the hands of benediction raised from the cross that proclaim, “Salvation!”

I understand why we Christians hold hands so much. We like to form a circle and hold hands when it is time to eat. Youth do that thing with the crossed hands, right-over-left, and flip themselves around to go out into the world. We hold hands to pray, and to laugh, and to cry together.

We hold each other’s hands because it reminds us that the hands of Jesus hold us as well; and they hold the hands of those who have gone before us. And, one day, all of us - Mom too - will hold hands again.

Loving God, for the many ways you hold me, I am grateful. Amen.
Nov 11 2017