Looking at You
The story is told of a conversation between an 18th century priest and an elderly peasant. The priest was perplexed by the peasant who would sit alone for long hours in the quiet of the church. When the priest asked what he was doing, the old man simply replied, "I look at him. He looks at me, and we are happy."
There is a simplicity to the life of the peasant in the story that appeals to me. Perhaps because it feels as if it is a quality of life that is so foreign to where I am currently with a schedule filled with duties, obligations, meetings and events. Maybe it is the perceived quality in the relationship between the old man and his God that strikes a chord of longing in my own soul. Or greater still, perhaps it is the notion that as much as I could be happy beholding God, he could be happy beholding me?
Whatever it is that strikes a chord, I know there is a beauty here that accords with Scripture. We see it in Jesus inviting all who labor and are heavy laden, to come to him and find rest. (Matthew 11:28). We hear it in David speaking of his contentment in the Lord in terms of a child with his mother: "But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me. (Psalm 131:2)". Most profoundly we experience this beauty in the testimony of God toward his people: "The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing (Zephaniah 3:17)." It is not hard to see where the peasant is coming from, "I look at him. He looks at me, and we are happy."
The peasant, the scriptures, David, Jesus, each of them inviting me further up and farther in. I know I am a long way from fully realizing a relational sweetness that I believe to be true, but I also know that this vision, this invitation, is just that, an invitation. It is not unmeetable condition that would bear me down and crush me. It is not a command that if obeyed is rewarded. But rather it is a light in the darkness, a cool drink on a hot day, a soft bed after hard labor. Holy Spirit, draw us all deeper!
Photo by Karl Fredrickson on Unsplash