The Precious Hands of Christ

We Catholics will look upon the crucifix tens of thousands of times in a lifetime, and even more so for those more pious than I. And with every gaze, we are given volumes of revelation, yet as is the case with many things immense, we tend to overlook some of the finer details, while marveling at others. Other times we see what we missed before with such an intensity that it overshadows what we had previously focused on. And still other times, we see what had always impressed us in a far more miraculous and glorious light than ever before. Such was the case with the Passionists, an order founded by St. Paul of the Cross which is devoted to meditation on the Passion of our Lord. They have a Chaplet they regularly pray and various other prayers that focus on the wounds of Christ. On such prayer reads, "Eternal Father, I offer Thee the Wounds of our Lord Jesus Christ to heal those of our souls." It is a subject that seemed odd to me at first, but over time I began to see what beauty they saw in those horribly ugly wounds. It is the same beauty that brought flocks to St. Pio’s Masses for a glimpse of his stigmata, a glimpse at what grand insight into Christ’s wounds might be seen in that pious Capuchin.


Much of human life revolves around what we do with our hands. Music, art, sports, and various works of labor are made possible only through the manipulation of hands. Much of what makes us human is expressed within their activity. So too, much of who Christ is was expressed in the activity of his own hands. The Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (Gaudium et Spes) declares that Jesus Christ’s “labor with his hands at Nazareth greatly ennobled the dignity of work.”(n.67) Jesus Christ’s hands served him in many of the ways ours serve us: eating, clothing, bathing, and working. Christ’s use of his hands in human labor increased by his human nature the meaning, purpose, and dignity of our labor, our use of our own hands. Just as we express much of our humanity through our hand’s activity, so too was his wondrous humanity expressed in his. And yet, as the incarnate Word of God, so also was the revelation of his divinity expressed through the labor of his hands. It was through his hands that he cured the leper (Luke 5:12-16). It was by his hands that he healed Peter’s mother-in-law (Mark 1:29-31). And it was in using his hands that he professed, “Ephphatha!” and opened the deaf man’s ears (Mark 7:31-37). He ministered to our humanity through his own humanity, and in doing so proclaimed his divinity.

It is no mystery then why his hands were what Satan chose to attack. Along with his feet and side, it was his hands that the Devil desired to mutilate, those instruments of revelation that expressed together in every action his perfect humanity and his perfect divinity. In the crucifixion, those precious hands were marred, brutalized, and made immobile. They, for a moment, were no longer beautiful, no longer miraculous devices, no longer what they were meant to be. Instead they were stripped of their use, their glory, and their encounter with humanity. Satan had succeeded in unleashing his wrath on those blessed tools of grace.

Yet what appeared to be defeat was success. What looked detestable was glorious. What seemed crushed and useless worked the for the salvation of the world. There is that mystery that the Passionists so fervently meditate on. Those bloody and beaten hands, so treacherous and hideous to our sight, continued to be that revelation of Christ’s intertwined humanity and dignity even on the cross and persevered in being those facets of grace to us. What Satan tried to destroy in order to separate Jesus from humanity expressed ever more Christ’s devotion to solidarity with us, as he bled and suffered just as we do. What Satan hated and sought to blot out in ugliness continued to express the beauty of Christ’s love and fidelity to us. What Satan desired to be made to never encounter and intimately serve humanity again worked to serve it in the most transcendent fashion.

Though Thomas was the only Apostle to express interest in seeing them, I do not think the sight of Christ’s resurrected wounds benefited him alone. Rather, in showing his hands to all the Apostles he declared definitively the permanence of his works and activity in the world, a permanence that neither crucifixion nor the activity of the Devil can overcome. His hands would again touch and affect humanity, now in an even more profound way than before. Perhaps, through his doubt Thomas stumbled upon a beautiful revelation of Jesus Christ he might not otherwise have known. As he gazed upon those wounded hands now made clean and glorious, perhaps he found a greater devotion to what those hands had done for the world. For in his life and miracles, in his suffering and crucifixion, and in that upper room there is shown to us the Precious Hands of Christ.

(This reflection originally appeared in a 2004 issue of the Catholic Post)