My church has been working through the book of Luke for what seems like 20 years. Ok, so it’s really only been 2 years- and it really has been a phenomenal 2 years of taking each verse and bringing clarity and relevance to our church body. This month, we are finally on the last chapter! It is all about Christ’s interactions after His resurrection and before His ascension into Heaven. This week, I was reintroduced to an image that I just can’t seem to shake – Jesus’ hands and feet.
I know that many of us, who have grown up in a Christian environment, have heard about this concept of being “the Hands and Feet of Christ.” I have always understood this to mean that we go out and share the good news of the Gospel to others. That we are the hands that build houses, hold babies, give money, and wipe tears. We are the feet that walk to foreign lands, kick soccer balls with kids, and dance joyfully to the praise songs of the local people.
While all of those things are important, there is something major that I have been overlooking this whole time. In Luke 24, Jesus is back from the dead and He isn’t a spirit or a ghost. He is real flesh and blood, proving that sin has truly been defeated. But the disciples are really struggling with this. The two Emmaus travelers have rushed back to them and are explaining that they’ve seen Jesus, but the disciples don’t believe them. And in that moment, Jesus shows up. Verse 39, He says, “‘Touch me and see. For a spirit does not have flesh and bone as you see that I have.’ And when He had said this, He showed them His hands and His feet.”
Why? Because they had holes in them.
Gaping scars from where the soldiers drove the nails into His soft flesh. Unmistakable marks from there the metal went through His feet, separating muscles. In John 20, He actually has Thomas (or Doubting Thomas as we like to call him) stick his fingers into the holes! Touch it. Put your finger here. Remember how these scars were made.
All of the sudden, being Christ’s hands and feet meant something totally different to me. I am not just the physical outpouring and actions of a loving God, I am to be marked, just as Christ was marked. It is unmistakable. If I truly want to be His hands and feet, then I am going to stick out in this “perfect appearance” world. No amount of makeup or photoshop is going to cover up the gaping holes. But don’t you see? The holes are beautiful. I am broken, but in this brokenness is the very means by which Jesus’ love is made tangible.
God says in Isaiah 43, “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are MINE.” Once I accept His redemption, I am His. And if I really plan on going out and being His hands and feet, then there is no covering it up – no hiding the miraculous victory over death. As someone who is about to venture onto the mission field, this is super daunting. I could handle the idea of being the hands that taught children in Nairobi, or the feet that went into the slums to help with poverty development. But this? Being the very evidence of Christ’s existence? Being unmistakable proof of His love and sacrifice? Overwhelming.
I am confident that God can reveal Himself to His people without our help. But He chooses to use us. He allows us to be apart of the process of bringing Him glory. It’s not really about us, anyways. He has already done the work. We are simply the evidence of this work, allowing the lost to “touch and see.”
I’m not really done processing this idea, so I’m sorry if this post isn’t coherent or complete. But I do know that we have a couple things to figure out – Have we stuck our fingers in the holes of His hands, feeling the jagged skin of His Sovereignty? So that we know FOR SURE who He is and what He has done? And then have we turned around to those that God has placed in our lives, held out our hands, and said, I have something I need to show you?
Jordyn Elrod 