Hands...a reflection for Holy Week.

The vicar asked me to find something to read at the end of our service of Readings and Music for Passiontide, and this is what I chose. I don't know where it came from...Someone photocopied it for me a long time ago, and I've hung onto it.
Last night, in a silent church, it was very very real.

Do I see your hands
Master Carpenter of Nazareth
Play upon that wood,
Feel the grain,
Test the joints,
Admiring finish and design?

Here are hands
Strong from the bench,
From saw and plane,
Chisel, mallet;
Artists in wood.

These hands held a child in blessing
Gave back to grieving parents
A daughter from the dead;
Caressed unseeing eyes in gentle love
Till Bartimaeus saw again.

These hands touched lepers;
Traced figures in the sand
While the adulterer’s accusers
Slunk sullenly from sight;
Broke five small loaves
And made a feast
Five thousand places set!

________


These hands,
Christ’s hands,
His hands:
Break bread,
Pour wine;
Reach up in anguished prayer
To take the Cup that is his Father’s will.

And in the flickering light
Do these hands hold Judas
In a final grasp of love
Before the fatal kiss?

Look at these hands, still quick to heal –
Red raw, rough wrapped by rope.
“Security” they say.
The Prince of Peace, secure!

________

Secure
upon a cross.

No playing now upon this wood
No feeling of the grain
In silent admiration –

But searing agony.

This is the work you came to do
Lord Christ
Through wood and nails.
Hands held wide in love.
Jesus, my hands need washing.

________

Praying hands?
Too often idle.

Generous hands?
Too often grasping.

Useful hands?
Busy with the world’s work, not yours.

Take my hands
Into the hands still scarred
By nails
I drove
At Calvary,

And teach them
Like yours
To love.