When was the last time you beheld the face of God?

She appeared at the door one afternoon. A bit discheveled, coat ragged and unwashed. Demanded to use the telephone. What could you do - it was a cold winter’s day. I was tired and hoped that she would make her call and be on her way. I left her to the front parlor. I could hear the conversation as the voice level kept rising - finally the angry slam of the receiver - knew my 'keeping a distance' had to end. Came and spoke with her for a while, not because I wanted to - but because it was duty. I did not know him in the lady at my door.

We met on Christmas eve. I did a little better this time. After mass - this burley man asked if I could bless his friend and he. She was weeping in the front pew. I did not know the particulars, nor was either of them telling me anything. But she was his beloved, and he did not know how to deal with whatever it was that had gripped her that night. And as surely as the dove had marked Jesus as the beloved, his earnest appeal marked her as that as well. And I knew that God was somehow present in this couple. I did not know him completely - but saw the outline of his presence in the love that they had for each other.

This time, I knew I was on holy ground. Part of it was the context - an appointment that someone had asked for. Part of it was the person before me –a M.D. in their resident year, sharing their struggle to come to grips with a very difficult summer – that found them surrounded by the evil of the world – from aborted children to a baseball bat with flesh on it – death in all types and styles. Now back home, the horror and the struggle of that summer transformed itself into a distance in this person’s relationships and a questioning in their faith life. Yet, you knew that the Spirit was there – in their courage to confront the evil, to overcome the distance, - to become whole and holy again. I did know him; because I sensed the Spirit descend upon them in their struggle. And I sensed we were both invited to walk a journey together – to behold the Lamb, to see how Jesus could be present- even in the midst of that chaos…

You would think it was easy for John. Jesus was his cousin. He spent all that time in prayer in the desert. He preached about the one who was to come, and yet, he almost missed the presence. Why? Because it takes work to ‘know’ someone. It takes a new way of ‘seeing’ to sense God’s presence. The phrase: I did not know him - in Greek - it has the same root as "Behold" - Behold - a bit more than to look - a bit more than to see - but to look with the eyes of faith - to look deeper beyond what is most apparent to the level of Spirit. John who invites us to "Behold" the Lamb of God - himself struggled to behold - to recognize him. And yet, by persistence and by grace - he came to 'see' on that deeper level. He came to “know” because he kept looking. He kept wanting to see that presence. It is our invitation as well.

Invite you to do a little "Beholding" this week. A little seeing at this deeper level of spirit. The snow and ice are still in our midst, but did you really “see” it? Did you behold how beautiful it was? Whatever the winter brings, will you let yourself really see it?

Perhaps the celebration of Martin Luther King day might open us up to see people are known by their innate goodness and not the color of their skin – to see that we are all made in the image and likeness of God. Will you behold your brother and sisters in a way that ends the evil of racism?

It takes work to behold. To really see someone. To really know someone. At the invitation to communion, we hear: Behold the Lamb of God – not just in bread and wine transformed, but in the community that gathers, and in the face of all of our brothers and sisters. May we come to know him, where ever we behold him this week. And may we behold him here at this altar, where the love we seek is the love that seeks us…