Disfigured Hands, Disfigured Hearts

Daily Dig had an article this week about hands. Philip Yancy was recalling some of the stories about his friend Dr Paul Brand and the work with leprosy patients in India. Dr Brand gave dignity to those whose hands were deformed or non-existent from this disease. He gave dignity to the soul to which those hands were attached.


The patients insisted on a few words from Dr. Brand, and he reluctantly agreed. He stood for a moment, empty of ideas, looking at the patients before him. His eyes were drawn to their hands, dozens of them, most pulled inward in the familiar "leprosy claw-hand," some with no fingers, some with a few stumps. Many patients sat on their hands or otherwise hid them from view.
"I am a hand surgeon," he began, and waited for the translation into Tamil and Hindi. "So when I meet people, I can't help looking at their hands. The palmist claims he can tell your future by looking at your hands. I can tell your past. For instance, I can tell what your trade has been by the position of the calluses and the condition of the nails. I can tell a lot about your character; I love hands."
As he finished, Paul Brand was again conscious of hands as they were lifted, all over the courtyard, palm to palm in the Indian gesture of respect, namaste. The hands were the same stumps, the same missing fingers and crooked arches. Yet no one tried to hide them. They were held high, close to the face, in respect for Brand, but also with new pride and dignity. God's own response to suffering made theirs easier.

Hands have always fascinated me and they tell much about each person. Dr Brandt speaks of hands telling our past, and our character. I saw those hands, lifted, palm to palm, disfigured but not hidden, part of the whole person who was isolated from society. I saw our hearts, like these leprous hands, disfigured, parts shut down, pulled inward, and isolated from life. What would it be like to find community where we recognize that each heart is like these hands? What would it be like to have community where we did not hide our hearts but instead lifted them up, held them open, face to face with Jesus and each other, finding renewed pride and dignity that God’s own response to suffering affirmed?

I find tears coming as the power of this picture of truth calls me to lift my heart up, open, in dignity, and stand with you as you lift yours. And in that place Jesus puts His wounded hands upon us in mercy, grace, forgiveness and love. Palm to palm, face to face, with respect, honor and dignity.