“God’s anonymous: a man with a withered hand”
Matthew 12:10
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus.
It seems that celebrities have it all--good looks, lots of fame, and all kinds of money. For whatever reason, they just seem to be in a league above and beyond anyone else.
But if you were to look a little closer, you’d find that, when it comes down to it, they really are mere mortals just like the rest of us. It’s only thanks to airbrushing and careful on-screen lighting that we usually never notice.
Take, for example, two-time Academy award-winner Denzel Washington. Apparently, back in his younger days, he went up for a pass while playing football and accidentally dislocated his pinky finger. And even though he had it rebuilt, to this day it’s still crooked, bent a full 45 degrees away from his other fingers. He said, “It’s like a gummy bear in there.”
Or how about actress Daryl Hannah. She’s acted in close to a hundred TV shows and movies, like Splash and Grumpy Old Men. But back in 1963 when she was just three years old, she was playing with her grandmother’s stairlift when her hand suddenly got trapped in the device, cutting off half of her left index finger. Later she said, “It was terrifying, but it could have been so much worse--and it’s bestowed on me an ability to be a more compassionate person.”
And one more--how about Vince Vaughn. Born in Minneapolis back in 1970, he’s starred in quite a lot of movies like Wedding Crashers and Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story. But when he was seventeen, he got into a car accident that severed the tip of his right thumb. So suddenly unable to play polo like he really wanted to, he became an actor instead. The rest, as they say, is history.
It’s easy to say that hands are one of the most impressive marvels of God’s creation. Complete with twenty-seven bones, twenty-seven joints, thirty-four muscles, not to mention more than a hundred ligaments and tendons, they can do almost anything, like perform surgery or play a musical instrument. They can lift objects weighing hundreds of pounds or throw a ball hundreds of feet away.
And we use them in all sorts of ways--for the earthiest of tasks like planting seeds or changing diapers or for the most sacred like receiving bread and wine.
Think of your hands for a moment. Without even looking, you could probably tell me exactly where all the freckles and scars and calluses are, which joints are swollen, and which finger turns a slightly different way.
Or think of the countless hands you’ve touched across the years, of family and friends, or a child’s hands as you walked along a beach or crossed a street.
Where would we be without our hands?
You could read most any story about Jesus and you’ll probably hear about His hands. In the book of Matthew, just as soon as Peter plunged into the water, He reached out His hands into the water and said, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” (Matthew 14:31). In the book of Mark, He reached out His hands to a leper and said, “Be cleansed” (Mark 1:41). And in the book of John, He said to His doubting disciple Thomas, “Reach here with your finger, and see My hands” (John 20:27). Or think of the words of Psalm 145: “The eyes of all look to You, and You give them their food in due season. You open Your hand, and satisfy the desire of every living thing” (Psalm 145:15-16).
Now here in the book of Matthew, we hear about a man with a withered hand, dried up, shriveled, useless. Yet it was a hand that Jesus healed.
I’ll read the words of Matthew chapter 12: “He went on from there and entered their synagogue. And a man was there with a withered hand. And they asked Him, ‘Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath?’--so that they might accuse Him. He said to them, ‘Which one of you who has a sheep, if it falls into a pit on the Sabbath, will not take hold of it and lift it out? Of how much more value is a man than a sheep! So it is lawful to do good on the Sabbath.’ Then He said to the man, ‘Stretch out your hand.’ And the man stretched it out, and it was restored, healthy like the other. But the Pharisees went out and conspired against Him, how to destroy Him” (Matthew 12:9-14).
Let’s stop there for a moment to see what’s going on.
First, you should notice that Jesus was under attack. Just as soon as He began to work among us, there were many who loved Him, and almost as many who hated Him.
So why did they hate Him so much? They didn’t hate Him because He healed people. They didn’t hate Him because He fed the people. They didn’t hate Him because He cast out demons. And neither did they hate Him because He raised people from the dead.
It’s not because of what He did that people hated Him, it’s because of what He said--things like, “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, blind guides, whitewashed tombs, brood of vipers, hypocrites! You strain out gnats and swallow camels. And while on the outside you look so beautiful, on the inside you’re full of dead men’s bones.” And He said, “Before Abraham was, I am” (John 8:58) and “I and the Father are one” (John 10:30).
And when it came to the Sabbath, the holy day, the day of rest, what did He do? While any other rabbi would have told you that, “Medical attention could only be given if a life was in danger, or if a woman was in childbirth, or if a wall fell on anyone, if he survived, he could be helped, if he died, you must leave him until the next day, or a cut finger may be bandaged, but not with ointment or else it may begin to heal,” Jesus did whatever He wanted.
On the Sabbath, He healed Peter’s mother-in-law, sick in bed with a fever. On the Sabbath, He healed a man sick with dropsy. On the Sabbath, He told a woman who had been stooped over for eighteen years, “You are freed from your disability.” On the Sabbath, He told a man who had been crippled for thirty-eight years, “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.”
So it’s no wonder He said, “The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath” (Matthew 12:8).
So it’s no surprise that, as Jesus came to visit that synagogue that day, a group of men were there, ready, waiting and watching.
How sad! While Jesus came to commune, they came to confront. While Jesus came to find fruit, they came to find fault. And while Jesus came to worship, they came to watch and to wait.
And while Jesus was at the synagogue that day, there before Him was a man with a withered hand--dried up, weak, limp, atrophied, lifeless, useless, half the size of his other hand. Though it was attached to him, it was no good to him. It was a burden that held him up and slowed him down. It was little more than a heavy, useless weight to drag around.
Though we can’t know for sure, church tradition says he was a stone mason. But whoever he was and whatever he did, he most certainly couldn’t do it anymore. You can’t work with a withered hand. And there were no drugs or therapy that could do anything to alleviate his pain.
So night after night and day after day, he was little more than a poor, helpless man with a shriveled hand.
Until Jesus came along.
What happened next? He said, “Which one of you who has a sheep, if it falls into a pit on the Sabbath, will not take hold of it and lift it out? Of how much more value is a man than a sheep! So it is lawful to do good on the Sabbath” (Matthew 12:11-12).
Then turning to the man, He said, “Hold out your hand.”
It’s funny if you think about it. Have you ever noticed that, in many of Jesus’ miracles, He simply told the person to do the very thing they couldn’t do?
When four men brought a paralyzed man to Jesus and lowered him through the roof, Jesus hardly even touched him. Instead, He said, “Stand up, pick up your bed, and go home.” He said to ten lepers, “Go show yourselves to the priests.” He told Peter to walk on water.
And now to a man with a shriveled hand, He said, “Stretch out your hand.” And as the Bible says, as soon as he stretched it out, it was restored, healthy like the other” (Matthew 12:13).
It’s easy to say that every one of us has something that we carry around with us that needs healing. And while some might be able to hide it better than others, just like that man in our text, every one of us has a “withered hand.” And no matter what we do or how hard we try, there’s not one thing we can do about it--no works, no accomplishments--just a weak, limp, lifeless hand.
Yet what does Jesus do? What does He say? He says, “Show me your hand.”
And what do we get when we show Him our hand? Forgiveness from One who doesn’t condemn, hope from One who doesn’t punish, and new life from One who sees you, not as a failure, but as one who’s made you holy, perfect, who holds you, so safe and secure, in the palm of His hand.
The story is told of a grandpa, some ninety years old, who sat feebly on a patio bench. He didn’t move. He just sat there with his head down, staring at his hands.
When his granddaughter sat down beside him, he didn’t acknowledge her. And the longer she sat, the more she wondered if he was okay.
“Are you okay, grandpa?” she asked.
He raised his head, looked at her and smiled. “I’m fine,” he answered. And he said, “Thanks for asking,” in his clear, strong voice.
She went on. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, but you were just sitting there, staring at your hands. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Then he looked at her and said, “Have you ever looked at your hands? I mean really looked at your hands?”
She opened them slowly and stared down at them. She turned them over, palms up, then palms down. Then she said, “No, I guess I never really have looked at my hands.”
Then he smiled and said, “Stop and think for a moment about your hands, how they served you all your years. Though my hands are wrinkled, shriveled and weak, they’ve been tools I’ve used all my life.
“When I was a toddler, they braced and caught my fall. They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child, my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They held my rifle and wiped my tears when I went off to war. They’ve been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. They wrote letters home and shook when I buried my parents and walked my daughter down the aisle. But they were strong when I dug my buddy out of a foxhole and lifted a plow off my best friend’s foot. They’ve held children, consoled neighbors and shook in fists of anger when I didn’t understand. They’ve covered my face, combed my hair and washed my feet. They’ve been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw.
“And to this day, these hands still hold me up, lay me down and fold in prayer.
“But most importantly, it will be these hands that God will reach out and hold when He comes to take me home.”
The One who once healed a man with a shriveled hand is here today. And with His strong, nail-pierced hands, He reaches out and invites us to come and stand with Him at His Father’s right hand.
In the words of a hymn: “Lord, take my hand and lead me upon life’s way; direct, protect and feed me from day to day. Without Your grace and favor I go astray; so take my hand, O Savior, and lead the way.”
We thank You, dear Jesus, for this great miracle You once performed on a man’s withered hand. So work that same miracle in our weak, sinful, withered hearts, that we may give You all honor and praise. This we ask in Your name. Amen