… and our hands touched this Word. (CEV)

… and touched him with our own hands … (NLT)

Imagine it … John was writing to us about Jesus, a person he had touched with his own hands. I was talking to Jesus about this … about how and why He would have been touching or touched by John (and the other apostles).

Granted, in Middle Eastern culture it seems much more likely for guys to touch and hug and kiss each other casually than it does in western culture. Where we think it’s gay. Because we’re idiots.

But it seemed like Jesus was asking me, “Who did I touch?” We don’t read a lot in the Bible about Jesus touching the apostles for whatever reason. But we do read about Him touching people.

He took that little dead girl by the hand and brought her back to life. He touched that blind man’s eyes – put mud on them! – and it healed them. When Peter lopped off the ear of a Roman guard named Malchus, Jesus picked the bloody thing up out of the dirt and held it against the gaping wound, where it miraculously re-attached.

He washed the dirty feet of His disciples, and after the resurrection, he told doubting Thomas to touch Him, in His hands and side.

He touched the little children whose parents brought them to Him for a blessing. And what were little children at that time? Big nobodies! The traditions of the day said they were the property of their parents – and according to rabbinical law, they were too young to have done enough good deeds to have any merit.

So … Who could say with the beloved disciple that they had touched the Living Word? The nobodies, the wounded, the doubters, the freaks and losers, the needy and broken. The dead.

It’s the same today! I belong in every one of those categories, and yet I know, I have touched the Savior!

What about you?