He had a face . . .
Paul wrote, "For God, who said, 'Light shall shine out of darkness,' is the One who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ" (2 Cor. 4:6).
What would it be like to see that face? Frederick Buechner writes,
"Whoever he was or was not, whoever he thought he was, whoever he has become in our memories since and will go on becoming for as long as we remember him--exalted, sentimentalized, debunked, made and remade to the measure of each generation's desire, dread, indifference--he was a man once, whatever else he may have been. And he had a man's face, a human face.
Ecce homo, Pilate said--Behold the man--yet we tend to shrink back from trying and try instead to behold Shakespeare's face, or Helen of Troy's, because with them the chances are we could survive almost anything--Shakespeare's simper, say, or a cast in Helen's eye. But with Jesus the risk is too great; the risk that his face would be too much for us if not enough, either a face like any other face to see, pass by, forget, or a face so unlike any other that we would have no choice but to remember it always and follow or flee it to the end of our days and beyond. Like you and me he had a face his life gave shape to, and that shaped his life and the lives of others, and with part of ourselves I think we might turn away from the mystery of that face, that life, as much of the time we turn away from the mystery of life itself. With part of ourselves I think we might avoid meeting his eyes, if such a meeting were possible, the way at certain moments we avoid meeting our own eyes in mirrors because for better or worse they threaten to tell us more than we want to know. This is with part of ourselves. But there is another part, the dreaming part, the part that runs to meet in dreams truths that in the world itself we run from."
As I read those words, I picture a crowd swirling around Jesus as they might a rock star. I cannot see his face, but he is the only figure walking straight ahead. Fans and followers jostle around him. As the crowd makes its way down the street, he pauses. A slight gap opens up between the bodies. Do I rush to him? Or do I flinch, and let the crowd pass?
John's words are challenging: "And now, little children, abide in him, so that when he appears we may have confidence and not shrink away from him in shame at his coming" (1 John 2:28). To be honest, I find Paul's words more hopeful. Writing to the Corinthians, who had all kinds of issues, he observed that they were "awaiting eagerly the revelation of our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Cor. 1:7). Whatever else they had wrong, the Corinthians evidently had this one thing right. It is Christ who would confirm them to the end, and through him they would be blameless when they saw his face (v. 8).
No icon has captured the human face of Jesus. But this we know. It is the face of grace. "Your face, O Lord, I will seek" (Ps. 27:8).
Bob
What would it be like to see that face? Frederick Buechner writes,
"Whoever he was or was not, whoever he thought he was, whoever he has become in our memories since and will go on becoming for as long as we remember him--exalted, sentimentalized, debunked, made and remade to the measure of each generation's desire, dread, indifference--he was a man once, whatever else he may have been. And he had a man's face, a human face.Ecce homo, Pilate said--Behold the man--yet we tend to shrink back from trying and try instead to behold Shakespeare's face, or Helen of Troy's, because with them the chances are we could survive almost anything--Shakespeare's simper, say, or a cast in Helen's eye. But with Jesus the risk is too great; the risk that his face would be too much for us if not enough, either a face like any other face to see, pass by, forget, or a face so unlike any other that we would have no choice but to remember it always and follow or flee it to the end of our days and beyond. Like you and me he had a face his life gave shape to, and that shaped his life and the lives of others, and with part of ourselves I think we might turn away from the mystery of that face, that life, as much of the time we turn away from the mystery of life itself. With part of ourselves I think we might avoid meeting his eyes, if such a meeting were possible, the way at certain moments we avoid meeting our own eyes in mirrors because for better or worse they threaten to tell us more than we want to know. This is with part of ourselves. But there is another part, the dreaming part, the part that runs to meet in dreams truths that in the world itself we run from."
As I read those words, I picture a crowd swirling around Jesus as they might a rock star. I cannot see his face, but he is the only figure walking straight ahead. Fans and followers jostle around him. As the crowd makes its way down the street, he pauses. A slight gap opens up between the bodies. Do I rush to him? Or do I flinch, and let the crowd pass?
John's words are challenging: "And now, little children, abide in him, so that when he appears we may have confidence and not shrink away from him in shame at his coming" (1 John 2:28). To be honest, I find Paul's words more hopeful. Writing to the Corinthians, who had all kinds of issues, he observed that they were "awaiting eagerly the revelation of our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Cor. 1:7). Whatever else they had wrong, the Corinthians evidently had this one thing right. It is Christ who would confirm them to the end, and through him they would be blameless when they saw his face (v. 8).
No icon has captured the human face of Jesus. But this we know. It is the face of grace. "Your face, O Lord, I will seek" (Ps. 27:8).
Bob
posted by Joni and Bob at 9:23 PM
0 comments
