Skin is the largest organ you possess. It covers the entirety of your body. “While your other four senses (sight, hearing, smell, and taste) are located in specific parts of the body, your sense of touch is found all over.”[1]  Your skin is riddled with thousands of tiny nerve endings which send information to your brain about all the things with which your body comes in contact. You can shut your eyes, stop your ears, plug your nose, and close your mouth, but you can’t turn off your skin.

Skin marks the boundary of our physical space. It is “what stands between us and the world. If you think about it, no other part of us makes contact with something not us but the skin.”[2] Through our skin we are distinct from the world. Through it, we touch the world.

Touch physically connects us with the external world. Our exposure through touch begins from our first moments of human existence. In our mother’s womb we were enveloped in amniotic fluid. We were immersed in and surrounded by physical contact. Once born, we bonded to our parents through touch. It is common knowledge that an untouched infant is more likely to die and will certainly be more unhealthy than a touched infant.

Touch is so central to the human experience that our language is steeped in metaphors of touch. Diane Ackerman writes,

We call our emotions feelings, and we care most deeply when something “touches” us. Problems can be thorny, ticklish, sticky, or need to be handled with kid gloves. Touchy people, especially if they’re coarse, really get on our nerves… What seems real we call “tangible”… The first sense to ignite, touch is often the last to burn out: long after our eyes betray us, our hands remain faithful to the world… in describing such final departures, we often talk of losing touch.[3]

We deeply desire to touch and be touched by others. We possess a deep longing to be intimately connected to ourselves, others, the world, and – for many people – God. We want to be “in touch with ourselves,” “connected to others,” “in touch with reality,” and “near to God.” Those whom we love most we call “bosom buddies,” “close friends,” even “soulmates” – those with whom we connect at the deepest level.

As desirable as touch is, it is also incredibly threatening. “Touch can be wonderful. Touch can also be a terrifying aspect of life. Brutality, violence, and abuse all employ touch to hurt, destroy, and violate.”[4] Another person’s hand may caress us with tender care or smite us with violence. It may wound or heal us; push us away or embrace us.

We experience this tension in every personal relationship. Will others help us or hurt us? Can we afford to get close enough to know? We cannot be touched unless we dare to draw near. These fears also accompany our relationship with God. Will God’s touch bring pain or healing? Should we fear or long for the divine touch? Will we be crushed or consoled by God’s hand? Should we dare to reach out and touch God?

Touch in Religious Worship

There is an inherent distance between God and God’s people in worship under the First Covenant. The night before God gave Israel the Mosaic Law, God commanded: “Be careful not to go up the mountain or to touch the edge of it. Any who touch the mountain shall be put to death. No hand shall touch them"” (Exodus 19:12-13). The law stipulated that God’s presence would accompany Israel in the Tabernacle. However, only a select few could actually draw close – and only one person was allowed to approach the Holy of Holies, and this only once a year.

Though God could not be seen or touched, God promised spiritual comfort to his own people and described it in the tangible terms of touch: "I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you" (Isaiah 41:13). God promised to “lift up” his people and “carry” them (Psalm 27:5; Isaiah 46:4). Perhaps the most “touching” metaphor is God’s promise to transcend even a mother’s love: “As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you” (Isaiah 66:13). The images of carrying, nursing, and playing with a child are presented as examples of God’s care (Isaiah 66:12).

But things have changed under the New Covenant. Jesus radically affects our view of God. In Jesus, the God who could not be touched or seen – only heard – now closes the gap between deity and humanity. God fully unites with humanity in Jesus to such an extent that the apostles proclaim: “We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life” (1 John 1:1). John, the beloved disciple – the one whom Jesus loved – shared an intimate moment with him, “reclining on Jesus’ breast” (John 13:23). Such tender and tangible communion with the divine was unknown under the First Covenant.

This divine union with humanity is a permanent move on God’s part. Through the resurrection, Jesus’ humanity was glorified, paving the way for all humanity to share in resurrection glory. He instructed doubting Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe” (John 20:27). He told the disciples on the Road to Emmaus: “See My hands and My feet, that it is I Myself; touch Me and see, for a spirit does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have” (Luke 24:39).

Now that Jesus has ascended into heaven “until the time of the universal restoration of all things” (Acts 3:21), the presence of Christ is manifested through the Holy Spirit. The sacrifice of Jesus has sanctified all of creation, making it a suitable vehicle to transmit the presence of the divine. This solves one of the most pressing philosophical problems – that of touching the transcendent. For how can the invisible be touched? Though the work of Christ and by the presence of the Spirit, all of creation can now be a means of grace, a sacrament of divine presence.

Sacraments are signs that participate in the reality they symbolize. God touches us – or better, kisses us – through tangible objects. The New Testament proposes various means through which we are graced by God through other physical objects.

• The waters of baptism symbolize and effect our cleansing from sin. By dipping our fingers in the baptismal font as we enter worship and making the sign of the cross over our bodies, we are tangibly reminded that we are cleansed of our sin through the work of Christ on the cross.
• The anointing oil that runs over our bodies reminds us that we are graced with God’s Spirit.
• The laying on of hands is a way of imparting divine power and authority.
• The “holy kiss” – mentioned no less than five times in the New Testament (Romans 16:16; 1 Corinthians 16:20; 2 Corinthians 13:12; 1 Thessalonians 5:26; 1 Peter 5:14) – is a means through which we physically communicate the loving acceptance of God in Christ. In most contemporary congregations this is practiced by “passing the peace of Christ” through holy handshakes and warm hugs.

These are important means through which God’s grace “kisses” us. But the most important sacrament is that of the Body of Christ – God’s redeemed people. It is humanity that now possesses the ability to most fully reflect the divine presence. Through our humanity we become the hands of God to others. We touch others on God’s behalf and for God’s sake. This is at the heart of what Jesus inferred when he spoke in the presence of his disciples, “This is my body.” As Albert Schweitzer notes, “The Body of Christ is for him always and only human bodies.”[5] Our constant participation in the Eucharist is a reminder that we are nourished and sanctified by the body and blood of Christ. God has drawn near in Jesus – God is with us, for us, and in us. Having been touched by God we go into the world as Christ-bearers – instruments of divine grace and love.

The Hands of God

Through touch we receive sacraments and by touching others we become sacraments of God to others. The unique sense of touch highlights three aspects that should guide us as God’s hands.

First, the limitation of touch is its greatest strength. In order to physically touch someone we must be in their immediate presence. Touch connects us with others in a particular, concrete manner. It prevents us from loving people in the abstract and draws us into full participation with the “neighbors” God has placed in our lives. It is remarkably easy to live in an abstract world that exists only in our minds – loving people in general and not individuals in particular. By focusing on touch as means of grace we love those who dwell in our immediate presence – those within our reach. Unlike sight, which allows one to grasp the “big picture” all at once, touch is limited by its distance to the object of its perception. This limitation, however, is its greatest strength. If we desire to truly touch others, we must love real people and not abstractions.

Second, in order to be God’s hands to others, we must never reduce people to objects. People are not objects, but subjects. In order to connect with others we must go below the surface. Our relationship to any object is by its nature superficial. An object cannot touch us deeply. However, a relationship with another person holds great potential to be deep. But this does not come without all the difficulties and complexities of actually interacting with a living, breathing person with unique thoughts, expressions, and desires.

Because of the complexities of a real relationship, it is far easier to treat others as objects to be manipulated for our own ends instead of individuals to be loved. Our world often substitutes sexual touch for a deep soul connection, but this is a mistake. It is easy to touch a body without actually touching a person – to use another for our own pleasure rather than for their benefit. This dehumanizes others and, in the process, shrinks our souls. As David Steindl-Rast writes, “Skin touches skin, but being in touch is a matter of the heart.”[6]

This by no means excludes the possibility of participating in sexual touch as a means of grace. The Dictionary of Biblical Imagery has a wonderful entry in this regard, which I quote in full:

Touch can be a great source of pleasure to people. Among other sensuous pleasures is sexual intimacy, a pleasure that the Song of Songs celebrates in vivid, poetic terms. The lover takes delight in his bride’s "breasts", which are as "soft" and symmetrical as "two fawns, twins of a gazelle," and in her luxuriant "hair", which captivates him like purple threads (Song 4:5; 7:5). In turn, she praises his solidity and muscularity, comparing various portions of his anatomy with ivory, alabaster and rods of gold (Song 5:10–16). They take delight in each other’s touch: the bride enjoys "the kisses of his mouth"; the lover compares her to a "palm" tree, whose clusters are her breasts; he delights to climb the tree and "lay hold of its branches" (Song 1:2; 7:7–8). Joy in sensuous touch is an integral element of their relationship.[7]

Finally, touch holds great potential to communicate unconditional love and acceptance. It was Jesus’ willingness to touch all people – regardless of race, social class, gender, health, or creed – that manifested God’s hand to others.

The Pharisees were masters at keeping their hands to themselves. They refused to reach out and touch those in their presence whom they found undesirable. For example, when Jesus responded to the “sinful woman” who anointed his feet with oil at a Pharisee’s dinner party, the religious leaders said, “If this man were a prophet he would know who and what sort of person this woman is who is touching him, that she is a sinner” (Luke 7:39). Jesus’ willingness to touch her was offensive to them. They believed that he was contaminated by her. However, Jesus’ touch did not expose him to uncleanness, but instead, brought wholeness and healing to the oppressed outsider. Rather than becoming unclean himself, he communicated grace and acceptance. In other words, he transmitted holiness to her, rather than being tainted by her so-called unholiness.

Jesus was willing to “get his hands dirty” in loving others. He was willing to do this because he recognized that his possession of the Holy Spirit actually made the unclean clean. In the same way, our connections with others do not contaminate us – making us unholy – but actually bring God’s holiness to all situations. Because of our possession of God’s Spirit, rather than being contaminated by what we touch, we actually communicate holiness to all we contact. (See 1 Corinthians 7:12-16 for a practical example of this – especially verse 14!)

An ancient story sheds light on the spiritual state of those who refuse to reach out and touch others out of fear of contamination.

So said a sheet of snow-white paper, ‘Pure was I created, and pure will I remain for ever. I would rather be burnt and turn to white ashes than suffer darkness to touch me or the unclean to come near me’.

The ink-bottle heard what the paper was saying and it laughed in its dark heart; but it never dared to approach her. And the multicoloured pencils heard her also, and they too never came near her.

And the snow-white sheet of paper did remain pure and chaste for ever – pure and chaste – and empty.[8]

Having been touched by God, we are called to reach out and touch all those God brings into our lives as agents of grace and love. In this manner, God’s holiness is communicated into God’s creation, and we are given the privilege to communicate this grace through healing, helpful, and holy hands. As terrifying as it may be to reach out and touch others, we reflect our God who spared no expense by sharing our humanity and touching our world in all its filth and sin, in order to draw it back into the tender embrace of the triune God.

© Richard J. Vincent, 2007