My mother was four feet eleven in her stocking feet and an intimidating women; she had many different looks. I knew when I was in trouble; I knew when she meant business – I didn’t have to ask! They say that the “eyes are the windows to the soul” and that is true.
This has got to be one of the most poignant and powerful scenes in scripture.
I know of a man who (many years ago) turned his life to the Lord; he was changed by the look of Christ when he heard the words from Luke 22: 60-62:
The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: “Before the cock crows today, you will disown me three times.” And he went outside and wept bitterly.
I wonder what Peter saw in Jesus’ look? What would he had seen there, in that crystallized moment caught in time? Here is a reflection written from Peter’s perspective:
“I, Peter, remember from the very start just how much I loved him. I remember too the startling truth that he knew me and that he had always seen straight through me; that I couldn’t hide from the Master, for all my efforts, no matter how hard I would try! There was always that “knowing look” on his face. That is not to say that I could always fathom what he thinking or what was behind the eyes; I couldn’t. None of us could, not really…
But there was no doubting he was my Lord and Saviour. I remember the early days when we caught those fish – miraculous and frightening. I told him to go way from me, to hastily depart from me; I was a sinful man. I couldn’t possibly survive the look of God. Our ancestors feared the gaze of God. It meant death…
Instead he smiled. He called us to follow Him and told us not to be afraid. And follow him we did!
Back then I wasn’t scared, of anyone or anything. I felt the swelling of pride when he gave me the name of Peter the Rock and made me leader over this unlikely crew. I was so successful, so strong.
I was first to know. First in line. In first place. First to fight, first to wield the sword! First to say I would never let him down - convinced that I loved him the best – more than the others…
Yes, I remember just how much I loved him. (I love him) I suppose that is why when he looked straight at me across that crowded courtyard that I couldn’t hold his gaze too long, but long enough to know my shame; long enough to know that he was right and I was wrong. That was always the case.
They say your life can flash across your mind in the twinkling of an eye – or in the time it takes for the one you love to turn and look at you – straight at you. They say that every memory is buried there – and that one day all things will come to light, the good and the bad, in the gaze of God. I’m not sure how I feel about that but I’m sure that it’s true.
He had warned me, I remember, that the evil one would sift me like wheat from the chaff. He rebuked me for thinking the thoughts of man, not God. I did a lot of that. I ignored the Word of God.
What was the good of knowing – being first to know – that my Jesus was the Christ if I would deny even knowing Him?! If I would slink about in the dark, at a distance from the one I loved?
He told me I would do that, too. And I didn’t believe it possible of me, that kind of failure. I didn’t believe Him…
He warned me not to fall asleep, only last evening in the olive grove – he warned us we would do well to watch and pray in case we fell, in case we were blindsided. In that look – he was right. I know he’s right…
I would follow him to the prison cell and beyond, to death! And there I was “following” at a safe distance! Here I was warming myself at a brazier, cursing with the best of them.
And the rooster crowed to herald in the day and the truth of all that he had said about what would happen to him and what would happen to us. And what would happen to the “rock”.
He does have the words of eternal life…
‘Let him who thinks he stands take heed, lest he fall, Simon; pride, Simon, goeth before destruction; a haughty spirit before stumbling – before failing, Simon! And, by the way Simon, the first shall be last and the last shall be first!’
Those words came to plague me…
But sometimes we don’t need words – to know. Sometimes just a look is enough to feel the smarting smack of stricken conscience - and the heat of God and tears, bitter tears, of self-recognition that send you scurrying away from public gaze – to weep bitter tears.
Perhaps I saw a tear in his eye, too – not a tear for himself…
The Lord turned and looked me full in the eye even as he was jostled and handled and handed over, even as he went to death. I remembered the word the Lord had spoken to me – before the day even dawns you will disown me not once, but three times…
The look that said, not I told you so – but Simon, ‘I know…I know…’
‘I have always known. I know you are brash and daring, Simon Peter, and that is in your character and that is part of what I admire and love about you – but that is not enough: your strength will only take you so far…’
The look that went straight; the look that convicted. The look that was deliberate – but didn’t condemn…
A look that others had missed; others had looked into those very eyes and seen nothing there.
It would be days before I looked into those eyes again. Others, braver by far than I would meet the gaze of the one they loved as he looked at them from the cross.
I would cry bitter, unstoppable tears. Real tears. Not because I was caught in the act but because I couldn’t love the one I loved the way I thought I loved him…
You know I am ashamed to say that even after the Lord was raised from the dead, I couldn’t let go of the disappointment and the hurt that I had caused him – until that dawn on the beach. First again to come to his side.
Another fire burning, the smell of fish hardly noticed over the wood smoke which was a painful reminder of my failure and betrayal.
Again, he turned to me: ‘Simon, son of John, do you truly love me’? Not once, but three times he asked me – if I loved him. I even got annoyed.
But now I understand. Love was most important; stronger than my failure or yours; love is stronger than my greatest fears. Not so rock-like now…
I finally (at last) remembered the word of the Lord: ‘Satan had asked to sift you as wheat; but I’ve prayed for you Simon – that your faith won’t fail; and when (yes, when) you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.’ His prayers for me (or you) – they don’t fail – not in the long run…
A look of love. A look that says, there is always a way back, Peter. Your courage failed, Peter – but your love – I never doubted that!
Now that you can accept your failings, you’ll be able to accept the failings of others and strengthen them.
The look that says turn to me, I’m already turned to you.
I held his gaze this time.
The memory of my recent past was strangely passing. The eyes were somehow different and yet the same. The eyes were brighter somehow – if that were possible - heavenly yet human.
You ask me what I saw there and I say it was the look of compassion.
A look that none of us deserve, not really. The look of grace. It was no mere glance: it was the look of grace that restored me – the look that healed me – the look that said life…” (Peter) MFR
Read John 21. Read 1 Peter 5: 5c-11