My signature becomes my word when I sign checks, tax forms, petitions, applications, letters or cards. By signing my name I am saying that I am good for the money I am promising, or that I believe in a cause, or that all the above information about me is true. When I sign my name on letters or cards to loved ones I am saying that I care about them and I am committed to them.
Recently, as I was forming my signature my eye was drawn, not to my name, but to the hand that was creating it. My thoughts turned to the endless accounts of Jesus' hands touching lepers, tax collectors and prostitutes. He touched children with protective love and the hurting with compassion. His hands healed eyes, delivered people from demons and helped those who were once dead stand to their feet. After His hands broke bread and washed the feet of his skittish disciples, they caressed the head of the disciple whom He loved. His hands were raised to His Father as He pleaded with Him in the Garden of Gethsemane then outstretched them to touch the wounded ear of one who had come to arrest him. His hands never once struck back as he was mercilessly flogged and beaten. He carried His own cross to Calvary with hands that were stained with His own blood.
And then His hands were pierced for the work of my hands. On occasion my hands have pointed out the differences, weaknesses and failures of others and, begrudgingly, have served others with a self-seeking heart. Am I using my hands to touch a hurting world or to hold closed the door of my heart, refusing to get involved? I am convinced that touching such a dark world with the hopeful light of Christ means trusting Jesus as I reach out and touch others.
In Matthew 25:40, Jesus shares the foundation of all evangelism ...