Look at Us
Acts 3
Peter and John went to pray
The met a lame man on the way
He asked for alms and held out his palms
And this is what Peter did say:Silver and gold have I none
But such as I have give I thee
In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth
Rise up and walk!
A man, lame from birth some forty years, was every day carried out to the temple gate called Beautiful around the time folks would be coming for the evening sacrifice. It was his patch of holy real estate from which to plead mercy from passersby.
He held out his palm, and Peter, having no alm with which to cover his skin, instead called on the strong name of Jesus and begged back to the beggar man that he jump to his feet and walk on his own.
It was all walking and leaping and praising God after that.
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I’ve read Acts 3 nearly every day for the last month and nearly each time I do, this song plays on continuous loop in my head. This the way I learned the story.
There’s no question the miracle is at the heart of the story. Without it, not much of a tale would stand to be told — two disciples of the rebel who fancied himself King of the Jews passed a lame beggar en route to the temple. Being penniless themselves, they paid him no nevermind and went on their way. Just like so many others on every other day.
But wait. There’s more. That’s not how the story told.
Look ahead of the miracle. Way back in the mundane.
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3 Seeing Peter and John about to go into the temple, he asked to receive alms. 4 And Peter directed his gaze at him, as did John, and said, “Look at us.” 5 And he fixed his attention on them, expecting to receive something from them. (Acts 3)
Seeing Peter and John . . .
And Peter directed his gaze at him . . .
“Look at us . . .”
And he fixed his attention on them . . .
The man had no use of his legs, but his eyes were seeing. He saw the men approach and spoke to them, the way the bell ringer sees shoppers approach WalMart at Christmas, I suppose. Faceless shapes with business to attend to. One must ask, but never expect too much.
Perhaps Peter and John saw him the same way.
Do not make eye contact.
Do not engage.
He saw Peter and John, yet Peter had to tell him to look at them.
There in the routine exchange between beggar and prospect, three men saw, and looked, and fixed their attention on one another in awkward, penetrating stares preceding the moment in which the miracle would fully mature.
Seeing is not looking. Glancing is not gazing.
Scanning is not paying attention.
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Silver and Gold, 1974,1975 Celebration Services (International) Ltd
Sister Wendy kept those postcards with the tiny reproductions of those large paintings. She stared and gazed at them. She paid attention. We don’t stare and gaze into the Word enough. Our investment in vision prepares us to see the next work of art — that next broken person — along our paths. Investing in the art of gazing prepares us to see through awkward glances and into miracle. Always deeper, it takes us.You’ve got good eyes, Lyla. They pay attention. At least they’ve invested in the art.
2012/01/02 at 10:25 PM
It’s the rushing off to the next thing, Matthew, the need (we think) we have to have seen many, instead of having seen well.
It keeps us scanning, instead of gazing. I like the idea of investing you suggest here.
2012/01/03 at 9:24 AM
contact
hum…that says a lot.
2012/01/02 at 10:39 PM
that’s is, isn’t it. glancing is not gazing. oh to gaze well. thank you, Lyla for the ways in which you gaze so very well indeed and how you help point the rest of us in the right direction.
2012/01/03 at 12:11 AM
Gazing well. Would that I could stand still long enough to do it…
(And in the middle of Peterson’s text now, I’ve a hunch this will be an ongoing theme.)
2012/01/03 at 9:25 AM
Looking at them is indicative of attention. “Are you paying attention? Do you want to be healed? Do you believe?” We are so — distracted — that we divert our eyes to the things of this earth
2012/01/03 at 10:28 AM
And I’m afraid, David, that sometimes I don’t even have my distraction to blame for looking away. I often am found just looking at the ground.
2012/01/04 at 12:25 PM
yes, David…
turn your eyes upon Jesus … look FULL in his wonderful face…
it’s the fullness part we miss so often. So thankful to be on this journey with you Lyla… I’m feeling especially blessed that he crossed our paths.
2012/01/03 at 11:19 AM
Me too, Pat. Me too.
2012/01/04 at 12:27 PM
I glance at God all the time. Peaking out the corner of my eye, I make sure He’s still there, in my scope. He gets my peripheral vision all the time. Staring at Him makes us…oh, I don’t know…so uncomfortable doesn’t it? To see His veiled beauty and majesty reminds us of the dirt that constantly clings. But, oh, to be a better gazer instead of glancer. To experience the fullness of His penetrating gaze on me amounts to nothing less than a miracle in my own crippled heart.
Thank you, dear friend, for using your gifts to provoke thought and shift our focus. You bless us. all. the. time.
2012/01/03 at 2:29 PM
Peripheral vision is exactly it. I like to be able to see his shadow, know he’s still around, while I look at all the other things. I need to look at him straight on. Thanks, Patty.
2012/01/04 at 12:28 PM
When I was home schooling my kids we used a grammar textbook which, every year, went through a list of activities designed to improve comprehension and learning. One of them was “Listen with your whole body.” I think that practice would include listening with one’s eyes. Looking. Gazing. Staring long.
2012/01/03 at 3:15 PM
My husband claims to have failed hearing when he doesn’t have his glasses on.
2012/01/04 at 12:28 PM
It always strikes me–the name of the temple gate. Beautiful the lame man was not. And how often do I avert my eyes from the not-so-beautiful. Sometimes, I think, to fix the eyes on these…to truly see them as image-bearers of God…this is fixing my gaze on Jesus.
Happy New Year, Lyla. I’m a mess these days when it comes to time management. But the sermon is over, though it still haunts, and I am trying to visit with my friends for a spell. Missed you.
2012/01/03 at 8:01 PM
Laura, so many things kept me locked on this passage this month. A temple gate known as Beautiful was one of them. You of all people would pick that one up… There’s a reason for that, of course.
2012/01/04 at 12:30 PM
So much passes before us, enters our field of vision, but completely eludes us. You, fair Lyla, and these words of you help us all slow down and really see. We look at each other, we attend and take note, and Jesus helps us grow together for having taken the time.
So glad I stopped here today.
2012/01/03 at 8:17 PM
We attend and take note.
What would happen if we really did, most of the time?
2012/01/04 at 12:30 PM
You always stop me in my tracks with what you see and consequently lead us to see.
2012/01/03 at 10:38 PM
PS: No pun was intended in regard to your photo!
2012/01/03 at 10:39 PM
Oh, Susan! You do know that intentional punning is very welcome here!
2012/01/04 at 12:31 PM
Why is it that the looking at one another, the looking at Jesus, is so awkward? To have the gaze fixed is so intensely personal. When the time is taken to look at one another the need rises to the top. It seems that in the focus is where healing comes.
2012/01/04 at 5:20 PM