Taking a Hard Look
a sermon based on John 1:29-42
By Rev. Randy Quinn

A few years ago, our family stopped in Spokane while traveling the Midwest. We stayed with some friends who lived there. Rich had been the pastor of a church near us before moving to Spokane the summer before our vacation. So we had gotten to know this couple and I began to count Rich as one of my friends.

But on this visit I learned something about Rich that changed the way I interacted with him. Even Ronda noticed the difference. In our conversation, we realized for the first time that we had gone to the same seminary at the same time. We had the same professors, we had the same classmates, we had the same friends. We had seen some of the same things. We had experienced some of the same things. We had walked the same hallways. We had even taken some of the same classes. Strange thing, though, we don't remember ever meeting! In Spokane, when we made this mutual discovery, we began to share stories as if we had known each other our entire lives. And at the same time, we began to talk with one another as if we had never met.

I've spoken with couples who meet, date, and marry, and after many years of marriage still tell me that they don't really know each other very well. They are still discovering new things.

For many of us, coming to church and worshipping God, or coming to Sunday School and learning about God, has similar dynamics. There is a sense in which we are like John the Baptist who says he didn't recognize Jesus (v 31). John, the man that Luke tells us is a cousin of Jesus, doesn't recognize him for who he is. Not until his eyes are opened and he sees Jesus in a new way. We "see" him all around us -- in pictures, in words, in the lives of others -- yet we don't often recognize him. Sometimes we don't want to recognize him, but often we haven't opened our eyes.

As we were going into a store this week, I noticed a couple walking out. I wouldn't even remember that, had it not been for what I saw next. The manager of the store came running out of the store. His face said a lot. He had seen something suspicious and was coming to look more closely. He watched intently as this couple walked across the street and got into their car. I suspect the manager was making mental notes about their physical features -- size, color of their hair, and clothing -- but I also saw him write something down, probably the license plate of the car. Had he just watched them leave his store, as I was doing when we arrived, he wouldn't have seen these details. It took a different kind of look.

Some of us are better at doing that than others. If I asked you, for instance, to not turn around before telling me how the person sitting behind you is dressed this morning, some of you would have no clue. (Some of you can't even tell me WHO is sitting behind you!) Others could probably tell me with incredible detail.

It's the way we look that determines what we see.

When I prepare a sermon, I do a variety of things to help me "see" what's in the text. I start with the assumption that God has something for me in a text and a belief that God has something for you in it. Sometimes I can see that more clearly than on other occasions. I use the Lectionary, and I'm always amazed at how the same text will look different when I look again at it three years later. In fact, I understand that Herschel preached from this text just two weeks ago -- had I known that, I might have used a different text, but it highlights the fact that when we look at something differently, we see something different.

To help me, I study the text with the aid of commentaries. I read the text in a variety of translations. I discuss the text with people. I like to begin early enough in the week so I can 'mull' over the text and allow it to speak to me as I live out my week. Quite often, I'll memorize the text.

While studying this text, I used the Jerusalem Bible translation. And I couldn't help but notice the peculiar translation of a word. I researched this word in the Greek. Enblepo. It's only used 12 times in the New Testament, only twice in John's gospel, both of which are in our text for today. Enblepo is most often translated as "looked." I generally use the NRSV which uses "looked" in verse 42 and "watched" in verse 36. In the Jerusalem Bible, they are both translated as "looked hard at".

It's more than a casual glance. It's an intent look. Not unlike the way the store manager looked at the couple as they were leaving. When John "looked hard at" Jesus, he recognized him as the Lamb of God. When Jesus "looked hard at" Simon, he recognized in him the rock, a solid foundation.

It occurs to me that Jesus spends a lot of time taking a hard look at us. Jesus sees in us things we don't even see -- and sometimes things we don't want to see. We can also take a hard look at Jesus. And when we do, I believe we begin to recognize him all around us.

We begin to recognize him in the face of our neighbor.

We begin to recognize him in the laughter of children.

We begin to recognize him in the crisp, cold winter air.

We begin to recognize him in the mist and fog and rain.

We begin to recognize him in the children who have no food on their tables.

We begin to recognize him in the hands of people who work the soil.

We begin to recognize him in voices that speak languages other than English.

We begin to recognize him in the Nursing Home beds.

We begin to recognize him behind the counter at the bank, in the store, and at the library.

But we can only see him when we learn to take a hard look at another person. And perhaps the first person we need to take a hard look at is ourselves. Perhaps we need to begin looking at us the way that Jesus sees us.

Jesus "looked hard at" Simon. He saw what all of us would see, a fisherman. He probably smelled like the sea. He may have arrived in his work clothes. His skin had been darkened by the sun, and perhaps had a leathery appearance from the constant exposure to the weather.

But Jesus saw beyond that. He looked deep inside. When he looked at Simon, he saw a man of convictions. He saw a man of compassion. He saw a man of honor. Jesus determines that this is a rock-solid citizen, the kind of person that people depend upon, and decides to call him Peter, the rock.

None of these things had been seen by others. Simon may not have seen them himself. But as the story unfolds, first Jesus, then Simon, then the twelve, and then all of those around him begin to sense what Jesus had seen.

Whether his name change came first and he developed a sense of responsibility or his deep seated character was already present but not recognized until Jesus names it, I'm not sure. This story suggests to me that it was there all along, but no one else had ever seen it. When Jesus looks inside of you, what does he see? Does he see the same thing you see? Or does he see much more? More potential perhaps?

I understand that scientists have developed a new kind of mirror. Rather than reflecting your image, it gives an actual image of yourself. For the first time, you can see yourself as others see you! What's curious about this mirror is how few people want to see themselves. When it's been on display, most people walk past without noticing it. It's as if we are afraid to see us as others see us.

But Jesus sees you as you are. And I can guarantee that the first thing Jesus sees in you is someone worthy of love. It's the simple yet profound truth that God loves you. And it's that knowledge, it's that truth, that allows us to love others. They too have been seen by God as worthy, as loveable, as valuable.

We can take a hard look at ourselves. We'll find someone worthy of love. We can take a hard look at others. We'll also find in each of them someone worthy of love.

We can also take a hard look at God. And we begin to see God as if for the first time. We find a God of compassion, a God of justice, a God of love, a God of vengeance.

I hadn't thought about it before, but I remember how it struck me when I read it. Linda and Richard Eyre in their book Teaching Your Children Values (Simon & Schuster, 1993) suggested as an exercise to teach your children to look people in the eye. I began to watch people. I began to watch children, especially. I've been amazed over the course of the years since I read that line how few of us actually make mutual eye contact in conversations. It's as if we are ashamed. It's as if we are frightened.

Yesterday, on my way here, I took the turnpike. I intentionally chose the lanes with a person in them and tried to make contact with them. The first man in the toll booth avoided making eye contact with me. He looked at my hands, his hands, and the cash register.

The second woman looked me in the eye. And when I left her toll booth, she had a smile on her face -- and so did I.

I don't know if you've ever paid attention to it, but that was one of the remarkable characteristics of Mother Teresa. She made clear and intentional eye contact with people. It was a piercing look as she took a hard look at people and saw the Christ in them. It's what made her a saint as she learned to love the Christ in the people she met.

I'm suggesting that you can overcome those hurdles, too. You can look yourself 'in the eye', to look intentionally at the people around you, and even to take a hard look at God.

Like John the Baptist, we may find some amazing discoveries when we look hard at God. We may begin to understand John's image of the Lamb of God. We may come to terms with God's own desires for our lives.

But more importantly, we will begin to recognize God in our midst as the ordinary events of life take on divine qualities, as the every day becomes sacred, as the mundane becomes holy. Amen.