Thursday, January 13, 2011

The Face of God

For God Who said, Let light shine out of darkness, has shone in our hearts so as to beam forth the Light for the illumination of the knowledge of the majesty and glory of God as it is manifest in the Person and is revealed in the face of Jesus Christ. ~2 Cor. 4:6 (Amp)

I was talking to Ryan, and he shared this verse with me. He just started talking and said he was still processing it even as he spoke. As he went on, a shiver went through me. "When you look into the face of Jesus, you're looking at the face of God." God, in all His Godness, excluding nothing of His nature and essence, put on skin and flesh and walked Earth as a man called Jesus. The face of Jesus owned the glory and majesty of GOD. Within tangible pores, bones, organs--the Eternal, Self-Existent One.

When Moses asks God to show him His glory, God responds by saying He'll cause all His goodness to pass before him. His glory is His goodness. His goodness is His glory. In Jesus is all the glory-goodness of the Father. When I look on His face in worship, I am possessed by His glory-goodness.


Like Ryan, I'm still processing this. I love the immediate impact it had on my spirit. I know that means He's bringing on something. Something of His nature, and I dig that.

I don't know how accurate any of the pictures, paintings, or composite guesses are of Jesus' face. I rather like that we don't know. He becomes to each of us what we most need.

When Brett was two, I asked him if he'd ever seen Jesus. He played with a toy as he answered matter-of-factly, "Yes." Surprised, I asked what He looked like. Still occupied with the toy, he answered, "His hair is black." Even more surprised, I asked if there was anything else. "He not very tall." I asked, "What else?" He turned to me and said, "His skin is like yours." Tears flooded my eyes. Could he have actually seen You...? The only pictures he had of Jesus were in a calendar by Richard Hook, famous for his ruggedly handsome, GQ Jesus sketches. Interrupting my wonder, Brett piped up, "He was Good. And nice." Keeping it together, I asked, "Did you do anything together?" His voice grew a little quieter, "He just hold me and sing to me."

Was he making this up? Only God knows. You can imagine how I pondered this fiercely. Finally I remembered that he'd had chicken pox a couple of months before. It was bad too. Sores covered his little body from head to toe. He cried and cried, I gave him oatmeal baths, sang to him, tried everything to distract and entertain. Bedtime was the worst though. He didn't like to go to bed anyway, and this physical torment only exacerbated that dislike. As I held him and rocked, croaking out lullabies through tears, I begged the Lord to help him. I know it wasn't a fatal condition, but witnessing your child suffering and being helpless to do anything about it is a lonely agony.

Could this have been the result of a young mother's plea? Might His Spirit have held Brett in the night, the Comforter consoling His precious, hurting little one? Did He enjoy holding him like I did, delighting in being his solace? I'll never be sure in this life, but it's certainly in keeping with His nature to manifest compassion and refuge to the weak.

I've only told this story two or three times. It's very special to me, and I hold it dear. To look on the face of Jesus and see the glory-goodness of God... Unless you become like a child...

1 comment:

Mulli said...

Wow Mama! I like that story. I don't think I've ever heard it before. Thank you for sharing. I think I gave an accurate description of Jesus.