Kirkepiscatoid

Luke 23: 36-40:
³⁶While they were talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” ³⁷They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. ³⁸He said to them, “Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? ³⁹Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” ⁴⁰And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet.


Many of you already realize I have a bit of a "hand fetish" when it comes to trying to envision God. I basically see God as "hands." The above passage from Luke was part of our text this past Sunday. That business about "touch me and see" has really stuck to me all week. I know had I been the disciples, or, the week before, Thomas in particular, I would have had to touch Jesus too, to know his presence was real. Probably part of my struggle is that I AM limited to "figurative" forms of touching the Divine. I honestly would like to literally grab hold of God and poke and prod and touch and pat Him.

Sometimes I get in a bit of a bind because I have a tendency to always want to "grab things and take them apart." It's my nature to some degree. After all, my job is to take "pieces and parts" from clinics and operating rooms, take them apart to see "what's wrong with them," decide what parts I want to see under the microscope, and look at them. Some things can't be taken apart, or if they are, they are no longer what they are because they are not "whole."

But then there are the times that "Touch me and see" is the exact right thing.

Sometimes, when we are hurting, or scared, or anxious, I think what we crave the most as human beings is simply human touch. Not necessarily in a romantic or sexual way; just be touched affectionately and earnestly. I get tickled at one of my friends b/c her favorite thing to do is just pat my face at the junction of my chin and cheek. Another likes to ruffle my fuzzy head of hair. Some are huggers. I am a champion bear hugger--so much so, it can almost result in an osteopathic manipulation treatment! But I'm also a "shoulder patter" and "neck squeezer."

The few times I have been seriously sobbing in the presence of others, what always seems to be the greatest "I'm not alone" feeling is to just have someone put their hand square between my shoulder blades and leave it there. They don't even have to pat me or rub me. Just having it there feels like a million bucks.

I am always amazed how under my own fingertips, I can feel people's muscles loosen when I touch their shoulder, or feel their breathing change. There really IS something to the reality of "touch me and see."

Are our own human touches part of "the hand of God?" One has to wonder.