The Saving Look of Jesus
 
Sr M Carmilla AC


The human eye reflects the whole personality. The presence or lack of physical and mental health, the vitality or inertia of the spirit, the innocence or guilt of the soul, are all reflected in the eyes. Looks , we know, can encourage, engender life, enkindle love. Looks can also smother and kill. They can speak volumes even when the lips are silent. They can silence the most voluble by their power. The look in the eyes is indeed a true mirror of the innermost man.
 
Having become human, a man fully and vibrantly alive, Jesus' looks certainly expressed the whole gamut of human emotions barring anything that had the slightest taint of sin.
 
Every look of Jesus was a saving act. Whatever the circumstance, whosoever he encountered, Jesus' looks, like his words and acts, were channels of grace. Being the very soul of integrity, his looks always matched his words and actions, endowing them with power and dynamism, and expressed authentically the sentiments of his heart.
 
Jesus' look was so fascinating that with just two words, "Follow me," he drew people irresistibly to himself. Andrew and Simon, James and John, Philip and Mathew needed no further persuasion. They left their all to belong to him forever. Jesus' looks must have rested on the crowds he addressed with the comforting warmth of love for his heavenly Father and for each one of his audience; with concern and compassion when he found them hungry and tired, or scattered like sheep without a shepherd; with tenderness and gentleness when he healed the sick, the deaf and the dumb, the lame and the paralysed; with power and conviction when he taught the people the secrets of the kingdom of heaven, and with sternness and authority when he upbraided them for their stubbornness of heart and lack of faith. His looks must have been tinged with pain and grief when he would fain have gathered the people of Jerusalem as a hen does her chicks under her wings and when he foresaw the impending doom of the beautiful city of Jerusalem soon to be reduced to a heap of rubble. Sorrow poured out of those eyes that wept over his deceased friend, Lazarus; majesty shone forth when he calmed the storm with a word and walked over the waves of the sea of Galilee; amusement must have lighted up his eyes when he witnessed the antics of Peter as he began sinking in the same waters when he forgot his Master's might and trusted to himself, when he saw the great little man Zacchaeus crouched on the sycamore tree to catch a glimpse of him, and when the wailing Mary of Magdala mistook him for the gardener. Delight danced in his eyes as he watched little children at play and pressed them to his heart and blessed them.
 
Every time Jesus looked at a person, it was an invitation to the life of grace, an offer of eternal life. Even when fire flashed forth from his eyes as he denounced the Pharisees, Scribes and Lawyers for their hypocrisy and called them "whitewashed sepulchres, filled with dead men's bones", his look was redemptive. Nicodemus grasped this truth and came to him for instruction. Saul, the proud Pharisee, recognised it and surrendered when the risen Christ struck him down and confronted him sternly. Jesus' severity, when he overturned the tables of the money-changers of the Temple and his strong rebuke to Peter who patronisingly tried to turn his attention away from his approaching passion and death, were but blows struck only to heal. Blessed are those who discover the hidden treasure of his love beneath his reproofs!
 
There are a few occasions where the look of Jesus is specifically mentioned in the Gospels. When the rich young man came to Jesus wanting to attain perfection, St Mark writes, "Jesus , looking at him, loved him and said, 'You lack one thing; go sell what you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me"'(10:17). Another instance is when Andrew brought Simon, his brother, to Jesus. "Jesus looked at him, and said, 'So you are Simon the son of John? You shall be called Cephas.'" And again at the cock-crow after Peter's denial of Jesus, the Lord turned and looked at Peter"(Lk 22:61).
 
In the first case the rich young man could not savour the power and the bliss that the look of Jesus, eloquent with love, promised him, for his "many possessions" clouded his vision and he went away "grieving". The onlookers noticed the depth of love, in Jesus' look but not the man on whom it was bestowed. As for Peter, he let the love of Jesus seep into the deeps of his being and so could leave all he held dear and follow him. In the trial scene, charged with an unequalled poignancy, we see the pathetic figure of Peter going out weeping bitterly after Jesus turned and looked at him.But his eyes had already met those of his Master and read therein the message, "I have loved you with an everlasting love, Peter". And Peter believed it. His denial culminated in a self-emptying experience which, in turn, enabled him to absorb and assimilate the love of Jesus. They met again on the banks of the Tiberias where the two pairs of eyes were locked together in that unutterably sweet exchange of love. How long could that timeless moment have lasted?
 
There are also some instances where the Evangelists speak of what Jesus "watched" or "saw". His look easily fell on the poor, the simple, and the marginated and picked them out for his special favour and consideration. In chapter 12:41-43 Mark says that Jesus, "sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums". But the mite of the widow is picked out for special mention. "...this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury." Nathaniel had quipped, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" when Philip gave him the good news of having found the Messiah, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth. Nevertheless, he complied with his request to "come and see." And when Jesus saw Nathaniel coming toward him, he broke out into a beautiful remark, "Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!" (Jn 1:47).
 
When Jesus saw the man who had been lying ill for thirty-eight years on the portico of Bethzatha with none to help him into the waters, when he saw the milling crowd coming towards him on the banks of the Tiberias, eager to devour his word and when he spied the man born blind whom the disciples easily suspected as having been punished for his sins or those of his parents, his heart was touched with compassion, and power went out of him to work a miraculous healing or a multiplication of food. Jesus' look was always salvific.
 
"Let thine eyes rest upon my eyes for a while," sang the mystic poet Rabindranath Tagore. Jesus' eyes are on us all, all the while, inviting us, encouraging us, admonishing us- but always with love. Our bliss lies in being able to capture this look and absorb the love it conveys. Do we, like the rich young man turn sadly away, unable to loosen our grip on what we call our own? Are we like Judas, who stepped out into the darkness of the night with a greater darkness raging in his soul, clutching the paltry silver coins, unable to meet the penetrating look of the Master? Or, do we, like Peter, let his loving gaze melt the hardened core of sin and selfishness within our souls, and draw us into the intimacy of his steadfast love?
 
The choice is ours to make.