And the Lord Turned and Looked…

I love the duality of the people we meet in the Bible.  It makes them seem that much more human and that much more relatable as I read God’s Word.  They are real people, with amazing qualities but also,  harrowing faults. 

When I read about these Biblical figures --  with their light and dark sides, their ups and downs, their good acts versus their nasty behaviors --  I notice how I want to be in line with one of their natures and distance myself from their other nature. I think that’s a common thread for mankind; literature is fraught with this dichotomy, the eternal struggle within us all to do what is good and hide when we do what is bad. Let’s not forget how admirable the good Doctor Jekyll was, while Mr. Hyde didn’t have much of a fan club.  Talk about dual nature! The apostle Paul himself recognizes this when he says, “For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do – this I keep on doing.” 

I want to be as brave as Moses, telling the “pharaohs” in my life to let me and my people go.  I don’t want to be the guy about to hide away as a shepherd for 40 years because I just buried a body in the sand.

Who doesn’t want to share David’s appellation from the Lord that you too are a person “after God’s own heart.”  But we don’t want to be the person who confronts their own sin.  We want to (at times) do what “feels right” or “what we want” much the same way David did when he killed Uriah or had an affair with Bathsheba. 

Likewise, Elijah is my hero as he engages in a throw-down with the prophets of Baal, telling them to yell a bit louder to wake up their distracted “god.”   He then demonstrates the power of the one, true, living God when after praying, an amazing blaze consumes the altar he prayed over.  What swagger!  Yet after Jezebel threatened his life, he packed that swagger right up and headed for a cave to hide, wishing for death. 

How easily I too forget the incredible triumphs the Lord has demonstrated in my life.  Instead of holding them closely as treasured reassurance, I let Satan steal the joy of answered prayers – I hide in my own mental cave, defeated. 

The examples could go on and on, couldn’t they?  As I am writing this, I have a whole mix of Biblical figures flood my mind, each with their own Jekyll and Hyde story to tell.  But during this time of Lent, I want to highlight one person in particular, a story that hurts my heart every single time I read it…Peter’s denial of Christ.

Throughout the gospels, we read of Peter shining his love and dedication to Christ.  Who can forget his reaching for a sword in the garden to fight for his Lord?  Or his spontaneous offer to build a shelter during the transfiguration?  Or his rushing out to walk on the water to meet Christ? Or his asking the Lord to wash his whole body and not just his feet, so that he would be clean?  Or casting another net after a fruitless day of fishing just because Jesus asked him to do it one more time?  And it was Peter who proclaimed “Lord, to whom shall we go?  You have the words of eternal life!” 

But on that evening in the courtyard when Jesus was hauled away by the authorities, Peter wanted anyone but Christ.  The disciples were afraid; their leader was just arrested, and they had no idea what was in store.  They were terrified for their own lives, as their Lord and Savior was about to lose His.

Sitting in that courtyard, surrounded by strangers, Peter was knee-deep in self-preservation and self-protection.  That evening, alone and scared, Peter first denied he even knew Christ to one of the servant girls.  Peter denied Christ a second time by stating he was not “one of them” (one of Christ’s followers).  Peter denied Christ a third time to a man standing near him, saying “I don’t know what you’re talking about” when this man referenced Peter’s association with Jesus.  And after denying Christ these three times,  we read the heart-wrenching words in Luke chapter 22 “And the Lord turned and looked at Peter.”

“And the Lord turned and looked at Peter.”  I read those words again and again.  Friends, that passage devastates me.  What incredible pain Peter must have experienced when his eyes met Christ! Peter had just told Christ he would die with him; now, he tells a stranger he doesn’t even know Him.  When Jesus and the disciples were walking and talking in the village and all was comfy and breezy for Peter, it was much easier for him to say that he would die with his Lord.  When things got really tough, Peter folded.  That dual nature sounds familiar to me.

That look that pierced Peter, the look that pushed Peter to leave the courtyard and weep bitterly, I get it….Christ has turned to look at me too. He’s heard me say I would die for Him.  Christ has seen me work for Him, struggle for Him, defend Him, and cling to Him.  But then, with my sinful, dual nature, always with me, always working, I fall and I fail terribly.

Christ has also turned and looked at me during my angry outbursts, my fear and excessive anxiety over work, health or family, my sinful secrets, every time I live in constant worry and doubt, every time I look like the furthest thing from a “Christian.”  Christ looked.  Christ saw.  Christ looked at Peter, he looks at me, and he looks at you, friends.  We are metaphorical visitors to Peter’s courtyard every time we sin.   

Can I just say praise be to God that He is still looking?  At us and for us… despite our duality? That look in the courtyard, that piercing, painful look isn’t the only time we find the God who loves sinners looking at His people.  How thankful we can be that the Lord’s look of compassion and mercy, of calling and purpose, is also mentioned so often throughout His word!

He looked at Moses via the burning bush in the wilderness.  In the middle of his ordinary life of tending his father-in-law’s sheep, the extraordinary happened, summoning Moses out of himself to lead God’s people out of slavery.  Despite the murder, despite the hiding, God called to Moses by name.  But Moses’ doled out excuse after excuse to “play it safe” and turn down God’s order to deliver Israel.  But God affirmed that Moses was the right man for the job; he was hand-picked. God looked for him.

Maybe you’ve been in a “wilderness” too, hiding and making excuses about why you can or cannot do something.  Playing it safe and staying out in a desert of your own making, you argue God’s will at every turn.  But He is looking for you,  calling for you,  to do the work in His kingdom that only you can do, despite your hesitation.

God looked for Elijah after the prophet ran to the cave. Hiding, terrified, and alone, Elijah wanted to keep far away from Jezebel and her death threats. But God loved Elijah too much to let him stay in his stone fortress; God had plans for His prophet. God came to Him and said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” The omniscient God didn’t need to ask this question for His own edification, but rather for Elijah’s, in order for the prophet to question his own motives and fears and to examine in whom he places his trust.

We hide too; we run when things get scary and hard. We all have our own “caves” that seem safe. When we feel threatened or hurt, insulted or ashamed, sometimes we’re all too quick to run to something other than God. Yet like Elijah, God is seeking us out, looking for us, and asking “What are you doing hiding, child? I have good plans for you…what are you doing here?” Our cave’s offer of protection is illusory; it is a hindrance and detour to the plans God has marked out for us, just as it was for Elijah. God looks for us in our weakness, in our hiding places, to strengthen us with His presence.

God “looked at” David through the prophet Nathan.  David was buried in a sinful mess that he didn’t want to confront.  Yet in God’s love, Nathan was sent by our heavenly Father to show David the error of his ways to lead David to repentance and to rectify the road he was traveling.

God does the same for us – he sends friends or family our way to confront us with the truth of His word out of love, out of a desire to rectify our earthly walk with the Lord and to remind us that we are forgiven and loved despite our continuous fall into sin.

As we walk the Via Dolorosa this week with our Savior, let us remember that God is still looking at us.  Yes, he sees the “us” we’d rather forget, the sinful mess that leads us to weep bitterly as we have failed yet again, the “us” that has made His sacrifice a necessity.

But He looks for us so that He can cleanse us with His life-giving blood. He also looks at us so that He can pull us close and comfort us when we have come to the end of ourselves, when we have emptied ourselves of self-reliance and “image,” and have surrendered our will to His.  Praise be to God that the dual nature of being a sinful yet redeemed creature of the Lord is a sight that our Father will never tire of seeing because of the Son’s sacrifice.

“For the eyes of the Lord range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him.” 2 Chronicles 16:9