CHAPTER 17
corpse-like. This useless, lifeless hand was literally loaded with diamonds and emerald rings. We never looked upon the helpless member, covered with sparkling jewels, without a sense of pain, as well as disgust. And it is with no pleasant sensation we look upon the beautiful, well-kept, and even jeweled hands in the Church, and think of the little good they are doing for Christ in this world. Another dead thing is loaded down with gems!
One office of the spiritual hand is, to give the grasp of interest and love.
It would be impossible to estimate the good which has been done by such a clasp. It is a means of grace to both parties. Men and women can date the great moral change of their lives to such a cordial grasp of the hand.
Such a pressure given the writer, when he had turned his back on the world, was like a great influx of strength to his soul. And yet this needed work of the hand is lacking in so many places because it is withered.
Another office of the hand is, to uplift the fallen.
There are many hands and weapons lifted to push and knock people down who are treading the way of life. And there are hands to keep them down.
And then, thank God, there are hands to lift men up. They are few in comparison with the others, but they exist for all that.
It is always counted a noble act for a man to pluck one from the fire or the waves, or to deliver from any great physical danger. Men commemorate such deeds in marble, in medals, and in song, oration, and book. The land resounds with the achievement in which a hand went down, and a human life came up.
There are greater dangers than fire and flood; and mightier perils than falling buildings and plunging derailed trains; and greater despairs born in the heart than that of feeling a vessel going down in mid-ocean, or
beholding the flames cutting off all hope of escape from a burning building.
There are such things as hopeless poverty, present crushing want, profound moral mistakes, sins committed, character wrecked, reputation gone, conscience on fire, and devils goading the heart to desperation.
Where one sinks in the sea, or is engulfed in blazing houses, thousands are going down here, and the sad thought is, that they would not have gone down if there had not been so many withered hands in the Church.
We knew a man who had a number of disasters befall him. Finally, one morning, a greater trouble than all, which had gone before, befell him in his business. Stunned, heartsick, despairing, he took the street-cars for home.
On the cars he met a friend and member of the Church, who noticed his sorrow, but said nothing. He reached home, and almost staggered into his wife’s room, hungry for a look and word and grasp of sympathy and love.
The wife was so absorbed in her young baby that she had scarcely a glance for her wretched husband. He told her that he was in great distress, and her cold reply was to go in the next room, and lie down. A hand-clasp of love and pity would have saved him even then, but it did not come. He was married to a woman who had a withered hand when it came to spiritual help. He, with a groan, walked into the next room, and committed suicide.
Few active, devoted workers but have thrilling histories to relate of timely help that, under God, they were able to extend, and that prevented
desperate deeds, robbed hell of a victim, and added a new citizen to the kingdom of God. Look on us, said Peter to the lame man, and at the same time gave him his hand, and Luke says, the afflicted one leaped to his feet.
Save us from a hand that is idly folded into its fellow-palm, and coddled in its deathlikeness on a pillow, and gemmed when it is doing nothing for God or man worth a copper cent. Give us the hand that can reach
downward, and get hold of a despairing heart and sinking life, and lift them up, and present them to God. Such a hand Christ carried with Him, and such a hand we should all pray to possess.
A third office of the hand is, to give.
The sight of a woman stopping on the street to give to a beggar has always warmed my heart. The spectacle of a liberal man giving his gold, silver, and bank-notes to a worthy cause is always an uplifting sight. The human race is united in condemnation and disgust of a miser, and all agree in admiring and praising the generous and princely giver. No statue is built for an avaricious man who hoarded and lived for himself; but the man whose heart-throbs broke the fastenings of his front door, and the latch of his gate, and helped the outside world in its need and distress as God gave him ability, — this is the man whose name is pronounced with love and
gratitude, and whose life is honored everywhere. He has built monuments for himself in churches, colleges, and good institutions of various kinds.
The tears which he dried by his benefactions to the poor will reappear, transformed into flashing gems, that will deck his crown at the Last Day.
The blessings he receives from countless lips will be woven into a marvelous robe of glory for him in the coming world.
Few know how to give. The hand is withered. The man can not get his fingers into his pocket, and has no strength to draw out his purse, or to extract coins and bills from its folds. Poor, lifeless member that can not respond to the call which comes up from starving people in our alleys for bread and coal, and from the jungles of India and Africa for gospel light and salvation!
A fourth office of the hand is, to supplicate in prayer to God, and bring down the power of Heaven upon the people.
We naturally fold or clasp the hands When we pray, and often they are uplifted in supplication. The more earnest the petition becomes, the more the hand is used. We have all seen such hands. There have been times that we have beheld them over the heads of a congregation, when they
reminded us of banners, leading on to battle and victory. Some of them would get hold of the throne, and would bring down the Spirit upon the audience in mighty power. There were no pillars and galleries lined and loaded with such spiritual difficulty and opposition but they could, by the might of those hands of prayer, bring the whole thing down before God with a perfect crash.
How we bless God for these hands of prayer! We see them in many places, at the sick-bed, dying-bed, family altar, Sunday-school,
prayer-meeting, and Church service. They are barricades between souls and ruin, and they, at the same time, are great levers to pry men and women out of sin and despair into hope and righteousness.
It is said of Stonewall Jackson that he could be seen, during the raging of the battle, with his head bowed and right hand uplifted in prayer, as he galloped up and down in front of firing and charging lines. Who wonders at his victories? God would not let anything override that lifted hand. And it has seemed to the writer that, while God intended to emancipate the slave in the Civil War, yet He has to bury that man before He could let the
invading army roll on to accomplish the great design. God honors the uplifted hand.
When a certain battle took place between the Israelites and one of their powerful enemies, the Bible says that Moses went up on a mountain, and lifted his hands in prayer. The Scripture adds that, when his hands
drooped, Amalek prevailed, but when they were steady in their uplifted position, Israel prevailed. The efficacy of fervent, importuning prayer is plainly taught here in this striking occurrence.
In view of all this, how exceedingly melancholy it is to see the withered hands in the Church! They are busy in Church festivals, they can clap an elegant approval of some song in a social reception, but they hang pale and lifeless when we enter the realm of prayer and importunate pleadings for salvation, full salvation, and the mighty power of God to come upon the people.
What a time we would have, and how the kingdom of hell would be shaken, if all the hands, now numbered as Christian, could be restored and filled with life and power as we have mentioned, and be lifted
triumphantly to the skies! Who doubts, if this were done, Israel would prevail, and sin and Satan would go down everywhere?
Christ’s remedy for the withered hand is to stretch it forth. This is what He told the man thus afflicted before him, and he, in the effort to obey, suddenly felt life and strength rush into the dead member.
If the withered hand is that of the unconverted man, the thing to do is to fix the eyes on Christ, and try to do with the paralyzed soul what He commands to be done.
If the hand has become withered from disuse or sin, and is that of the backslider, then sin is to be renounced, and the long unused powers of the life must be dedicated again to God, and the effort to obey in all things be made, while the eye all the while is steadily fixed on Christ.
The repentance of the backslider, whether he has lapsed in the regenerated or sanctified life, is to do the first works, take up neglected duties, and obey God in every particular. The heart is sick, and the hand is heavy, but He who made us bids the drooping-hearted man to stretch forth the
withered hand. Return to forsaken fields of duty, resume the old-time benevolences, go to helping and assisting the needy and fallen, invade the realms of importunate prayer again, give heart, tongue, foot, hand, and voice once more fully to God. In a word, with eyes fixed on Christ, stretch forth the withered hand.
Reason will say, it is hopeless. Feeling may urge you to wait for more emotion. Despair may whisper, nothing will come of it; and the Devil may tempt you not to do so, but Jesus says, stretch it forth. So, in His beloved name, do it! The instant that you do so, healing life, restoration, joy, and blessedness will rush into the spirit, and another being will be seen who has a tongue to praise God, a foot to leap at His bidding, and a hand, withered no longer, but able to lift up the fallen, give freely to the needy, and pull down the blessings of Heaven upon hundreds and thousands of struggling immortal souls.