BitterSweetLife

Chapter One: Comprehension
(Chapter 2: Apprehension Chapter 3: Reception)

Something I often think about is, “How do we ‘see the unseen?’" And, more to the point, "How do we see Christ?”

Most of us have, in all honesty, caught glimpses. There are reflections of Christ’s beauty and grace in human faces. An unexpected smile “sends” us; likewise, a brilliant arc of color in the sky. We’re reminded—as of something we’d forgot—that molecules don’t have the final word. We speculate that God stands close at hand.

But it’s a hard thing, apprehending the unseen. And something else is also difficult: that while Christ is everywhere, we so seldom “find” him. In his presence is joy, soul-satisfaction, and glory… And we want all this. As Augustine wrote, “You made us tilted toward you, and our heart is unstable until stabilized in you.” In many ways, the glory of God is so close by we can almost taste it. But the pursuit of glory begins with a paradoxical statement. Consider:

"The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood. We saw the glory with our own eyes, the one-of-a-kind glory, like Father, like Son, Generous inside and out, true from start to finish." (John 1:14, The Message)

I can’t read these words without being reminded of the paradox that is currently inherent to God’s glory. For us, these words are true and they are not. We can say them and we can’t. We see Christ too, but not in the same way as the disciples. For us, the lens has changed.

::

James and John were fishing when the young Galilean called them over. Things just took off from there. His disciples got to know him face to face, hiked with him through Galilee, sailed with him through storms. They knew the timbre of his voice, could match the length of his strides subconsciously. Peter could have told you the color of his eyes.

And us?

We’ve exchanged all this for something else—something, in fact, that Jesus said was “better.” This seems inexplicable. But where does it start? Well, in a book. In a book is where this search at least begins. We have Christ’s words. We have the glory of Christ put down in verbal form, painstakingly inscripted. Readable, in-the-book glory.

And this is better? C’mon!

In the face of our instinctive disbelief, we should remember the advantages of written truth: For one, it’s more direct, more piercing. Raw truth marks nuances that raw appearances never can. But just the same… Sometimes Christ’s “missing” physicality hits us hard. Jesus is invisible to us, but we long for relationship. Christ is unseen…but the problem persists, how to find him. So how do we “see Jesus?”

::

I think it begins with a need. The need is blunt, catalytic, like being thirsty, or like being poor in Mexico. We come to a point of no delusions. We get honest. Honesty involves a certain horror, perhaps—we see that our soul is dehydrated, asphyxiated, unbalanced—lacking Christ. Or perhaps the feeling surfaces as curiosity, but somehow it's no less urgent. Call it comprehension, call it authenticity, call it the end of the rope—call it want you want. To conceal this need is fatal.

Our Story
Chapter 1: A Cold Night’s Work (John 21:3-4)

Peter, one-time friend of Jesus, knew the feeling. It ripped him like a scalpel when Christ turned and gave him one last look. It wasn’t just his personal betrayal he saw mirrored in Christ’s eyes—it was his own yawning emptiness, as Jesus turned away, walking away, staggering away to death. Peter had just disowned him.

Days later, when Peter told his friends, “I’m going fishing,” there was no mistaking the flat, cold note in his voice. Peter was sick. Sick with sorrow and regret. He was tired, too—tired of sitting, tired of crying, tired of waiting for something, anything, to happen. He needed, like anyone being shredded by alternating despair and hope, something to do. The something was fishing.

The other disciples heard the finality, the angry resignation, and, being damaged goods themselves, did what they could to help. In this case, it was the buddy system. “We’re going too,” they said. And they went.

That’s how they ended up sitting in the sea, a handful of tired men making a desperate pretense of fishing. They started fishing at dusk, with the gulls crying. When the cocks in the village started crowing, they were still wearily casting their nets. And when Jesus appeared on the beach, they didn’t even notice.

::

Like Peter, we may be tired or sad. Our spiritual senses may be dull. Maybe we’re focused on an empty hole inside that at one point was a reservoir. We sense an emptiness. Or we’ve walked with Christ before, but now must find him again, and the search is killing us.

Earlier, Peter had wandered in the dark, weeping.
Now he was drifting in the sea, fishing.
One thing was for certain, though.

We’re like Peter.

We want to see Jesus.

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This is Part 1 in a three-part series. Show Us Jesus 2 Show Us Jesus 3

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