On Folding One’s Hands
On the Proper Way to Fold One’s Hands
I was sitting in church this after-noon (05-01-08) minding my business (namely that of begging for more spiritual wealth from my father) when suddenly I noticed a young woman next to me folding her hands. As she did so she first bent her fingers over towards each other as if they were two neat rows of warriors exchanging respects before battle. Then in a flash as each drew near the other she changed their direction so that now they were resting, quite leaning, against one another in the traditional posture of any good saint seen in picture books or on stained glass windows. Looking on this turn of events I was ought to reflect on my own folded hands and my philosophy on folding them. Depending on how the mood strikes me I might either fold my hands in the form of a double fist with both sets of fingers intertwined. Or I might fold them as children in the old Catechisms used to when kneeling at the communion rail with each hand flat and pressed against the other. Another way I have recently taken up is that of two good friends clasping hands after a long absence from one another. I generally begin with the first as a sort of transitional state of reflection and prayer; squeezing my single fist firmly to remind myself to focus on the task at hand. Then from there I will either change to the saintly or the friendly form. Upon seeing this young woman seemingly so unsure about which position to put her hands in while praying I began to wonder myself about which was best. It was at this point that I began to feel the need to justify my choices of form in folding my hands; revealing clearly a horrid deficiency of self-confidence. I then began to think of how I could defend my choices from the arguments of the terrible prosecutor Mr. Matthew Novak. He stared maliciously across the court at me and accused me, quite rudely, of not folding my hands correctly. I defended myself by asking the prosecutor what the purpose of folding one’s hands might be. To which he answered that he did not know. In triumph I then retorted that if he did not even know the end then how could he judge the goodness or effectiveness of the means. Since surely the folding of one’s hands is not a good in itself it must be a means to accomplish some end. No one folds his hands merely for the purpose of folding them; he always does so to keep them out of trouble or to tell others that he is praying. To this barrage of lucidity and genius the prosecution had no answer and so he rested his case. Despite my cause having won the question of the best way to fold one’s hands still remained. Because the purpose of folding my hands is not entirely clear to me the best way to go about accomplishing that purpose is also unclear. The first concern one should have when determining the best way to go about something is being clear and conscious of precisely what one wishes to accomplish. This truism is one that perhaps I should keep in mind when entering church and surely any politician when entering office.
I was sitting in church this after-noon (05-01-08) minding my business (namely that of begging for more spiritual wealth from my father) when suddenly I noticed a young woman next to me folding her hands. As she did so she first bent her fingers over towards each other as if they were two neat rows of warriors exchanging respects before battle. Then in a flash as each drew near the other she changed their direction so that now they were resting, quite leaning, against one another in the traditional posture of any good saint seen in picture books or on stained glass windows. Looking on this turn of events I was ought to reflect on my own folded hands and my philosophy on folding them. Depending on how the mood strikes me I might either fold my hands in the form of a double fist with both sets of fingers intertwined. Or I might fold them as children in the old Catechisms used to when kneeling at the communion rail with each hand flat and pressed against the other. Another way I have recently taken up is that of two good friends clasping hands after a long absence from one another. I generally begin with the first as a sort of transitional state of reflection and prayer; squeezing my single fist firmly to remind myself to focus on the task at hand. Then from there I will either change to the saintly or the friendly form. Upon seeing this young woman seemingly so unsure about which position to put her hands in while praying I began to wonder myself about which was best. It was at this point that I began to feel the need to justify my choices of form in folding my hands; revealing clearly a horrid deficiency of self-confidence. I then began to think of how I could defend my choices from the arguments of the terrible prosecutor Mr. Matthew Novak. He stared maliciously across the court at me and accused me, quite rudely, of not folding my hands correctly. I defended myself by asking the prosecutor what the purpose of folding one’s hands might be. To which he answered that he did not know. In triumph I then retorted that if he did not even know the end then how could he judge the goodness or effectiveness of the means. Since surely the folding of one’s hands is not a good in itself it must be a means to accomplish some end. No one folds his hands merely for the purpose of folding them; he always does so to keep them out of trouble or to tell others that he is praying. To this barrage of lucidity and genius the prosecution had no answer and so he rested his case. Despite my cause having won the question of the best way to fold one’s hands still remained. Because the purpose of folding my hands is not entirely clear to me the best way to go about accomplishing that purpose is also unclear. The first concern one should have when determining the best way to go about something is being clear and conscious of precisely what one wishes to accomplish. This truism is one that perhaps I should keep in mind when entering church and surely any politician when entering office.