
Good Morning
He has made everything beautiful in its time.
Ecclesiastes 3:21
Below is a wonderfully touching story about Dürer’s Praying Hands that is circulated widely. It tells of Dürer doing his creation in appreciation of a brother who went to work in the mines to support Albrecht’s education. There his hands were deformed. There is no credible source for this story. It appears to be a relatively modern work of myth and fiction.
The Praying Hands
Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuernberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood.
Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Dürer the Elder’s children had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nuernberg to study at the Academy. After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also by laboring in the mines.
They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Dürer won the toss and went off to Nuernberg. Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht’s etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works.
When the young artist returned to his village, the Dürer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht’s triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing words were, “And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuernberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you.”
All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, “No …no …no …no.”
Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, “No, brother. I cannot go to Nuernberg. It is too late for me. Look … look what four years in the mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother … for me it is too late.”
More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Dürer’s hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches, watercolors, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Dürer’s works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office.
One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Dürer painstakingly drew his brother’s abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply “Hands,” but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love “The Praying Hands.”
To read more about Albrecht Durer
Help another . . . Today
With my prayers, desiring yours, Leslie
My Prayer While Waiting
Job 23:1-6
Then Job answered and said,
Even to day is my complaint bitter:
my stroke is heavier than my groaning.
Oh that I knew where I might find him!
that I might come even to his seat!
I would order my cause before him,
and fill my mouth with arguments.
I would know the words which he would answer me,
and understand what he would say unto me.
Will he plead against me with his great power?
No; but he would put strength in me.
Clarke’s commentary
No; but he would put strength in me –
“On the contrary, he would treat me with tenderness,
he would rectify my mistakes,
he would show me what was in my favor,
and would temper the rigid demands of justice
by the mild interpretations of equity;
and where law could not clear me,
mercy would conduct all to the most favorable issue.”
Thank you, my Father and my God
Humbly I bow before you
The mighty one, the Cousellor, the Prince of peace
Knowing, believing in and trusting your equity, your fairnes
And your understanding of the weakness of my flesh
And the questioning of my spirit.
You still stand to supply all my needs
According to your mercy.
Great is your faithfulness
Morning by morning
Never ceasing
Always at hand
Ever fresh, ever available
Never leftovers, a full fresh cup
Pressed down, measured generously
Running over in my bosom
Watering the smalles of needs
The seed of faith
Placed by our tender fingers
In the soil of my heart.
That watering of mercy and grace,
With the daily occurance of the light of your words
And the warmith of your love.
The seed can sprout and grow,
That seed – so small
Can face a problem – so large
And be confident that even if
It finds it self crying
“I Believe! Help My Unbelief!”
Will you plead against me with your great power?
No, but you put your stong haands under my faith seed
And uphold it, stengthen it, encourage it and comfort it
Until that so large problem moves . . .
While I wait.
May God bless our waiting.
Tags: Clarke's Commentary, Job 23:1-6, My Prayer While Waiting, Seed of faith