God with hands

In the front are dramatic life size figures of the twelve disciples and Jesus in the last supper. Judas is at the far left with one hand hidden behind his back and the other clenched in a fist. The disciple next to him has his hands folded in prayer. The hands of the next are folded in his lap. John has his hands crossed across his chest. Another is resting his chin on his hand as though he is deep in thought. Another is holding his hands up as though he is saying, “Not me?” Each disciple is speaking with his hands.

















Jesus too is speaking. With his hands in motion, he seems to have become fully one with his disciples. I remember back to Assisi, Italy, where Jesus’ hands could do nothing but hang on the cross. Both then and now, his hands seem to catch the full spectrum of emotions both he and the disciples were feeling.




















These statutes are far more than stone and clay. They represent real people and a real God. This is more than God with a face! God now has arms and hands that touch, heal, comfort, lift up and communicate.

As I sit in the church and religious museum in Cuenca, Ecuador, my heart and spirit are caught up in the fullness of God’s amazing love to create us in his image and then to reveal himself to us by becoming fully one with us.

The sound of a large door closing interrupts my deep thoughts and prayers. I look at the clock and realize we’ve been sitting here for more than an hour. Could it be time for the church to close. I panic! Surely we are not locked in again!

I run to the entrance of the church, and my worst fears are confirmed. The huge wooden church door towering above me has been closed and locked. I imagine spending a long night inside this church alone with Judy, the statutes of the twelve disciples and Jesus.




















I hear a sound to my left. I quickly walk to the small room and to my relief, a guard is still there. He sees the horror in my face, smiles, and directs us out a back door. As we walk out the door, my heart is still racing. I ponder how the disciples and Jesus must have felt and how their hearts raced at something much more earth shattering than being locked inside a church for the night!

I ponder the hands of Jesus in motion at the last supper along with all the disciples. I ponder the hands of Jesus nailed to the cross. I ponder the amazing love of an awesome God like none other!