Sermon 12/24/17
Luke 2:1-20
Come and Behold Him
Sometime last fall, I told you about
a news article from the New York Times that was circulating quite a bit,
showing results from a scientific study suggesting that two strangers could fall
in love with each other by following a certain set of instructions: the pair
answers 36 questions in a conversation with each other. The questions are
increasingly more personal, beginning with easy things and moving on to deeper,
revealing questions. And then, after that, you and your conversation partner
are supposed to stare into each other’s eyes – sustained eye-contact, no
talking, for four minutes. The author of the article actually fell in love with
the person with whom she tried this exercise.
I was thinking about this study this
week as I was thinking about how significant making eye contact can be in our
lives. There are many cultural expectations around eye contact. In some
cultures, men and women are discouraged from prolonged eye contact with each
other. In some cultures, people who are in subordinate work roles in
hierarchical cultures are discouraged from looking into the eyes of their
superiors. I think of our own culture, where we emphasize the importance of
making eye contact when we’re engaged in public speaking, for example. Or how
many have become frustrated with how the rise of smart phones and tablets and
other electronics have decreased how frequently we’re making eye contact with
each other, even while carrying on conversations. However we interpret it
culturally, eye contact is certainly powerful and meaningful.
I still remember attending an
intergenerational retreat weekend at Camp Aldersgate when I was in Junior High.
My friend Weston and I decided to go to the adult Bible study since we were very mature, and somewhere along the way
during the study, we had to pair up and look into our partners eyes for a few
minutes. I don’t remember exactly how long we had to do it for. I can’t
remember why we had to do this, what the exact purpose was. I only remember
that it seemed like an eternity. It was awkward and uncomfortable. That
describes most of my junior high experience, so this was like that in sharp,
intense focus. We survived, but I will never forget the experience – it was intense,
and something about that time made me feel vulnerable and exposed. Seeing and
being seen – it can be powerful, meaningful, vulnerable.
My brother Tim is mostly blind in
one eye. He was born with a scar on the center of his eye, which means he has only peripheral vision in that eye. It’s
taken me a long time to figure out what exactly this means for how things look
to Tim on a day to day basis. Basically, it’s like if you took a picture and
folded it over so the middle section was hidden. You would only see the edges
of the picture. That’s what Tim sees with his bad eye – just the edges, not
what is directly in front of him. My mom still vividly remembers when the
doctor discovered this at one of his appointments when he was about 5. The
doctor covered up Tim’s good eye, which compensates and works extra hard to
cover up for the other. And with the good eye covered, Tim’s other eye didn’t
know what to do. His eye just sort of wandered all over, unable to focus on
anything without the anchor of his other eye, because everything left was what
was supposed to be peripheral. As I said, Tim has learned to compensate. As
difficult, as vulnerable and exposing as it can feel to look someone in the
eye, and to be looked in the eye, it’s a gift to be able to do so, not to be
taken lightly. To focus on someone, to give them your full attention, to look
them in the eye, to try to really see them is an important experience, even if
it is sometimes challenging.
Christopher Chabris and Daniel Simons, two psychologists who
met at Harvard in the late 1990s, developed an experiment that shows how
limited our perception and attention to what is going on around us can be when
we’re focused on something else. In the experiment, you are asked to watch a
video of people in white shirts and people in black shirts passing basketballs
to each other. You are instructed to watch the video and count how many times
people in white shirts pass the ball. It is a little confusing, but if you are
careful, you can produce the correct number: 15 passes. But then, the video
narrator asks: But did you notice the gorilla?
Fifty percent of viewers of the video, including me, when I
first saw the video as part of a lecture on preaching years ago, respond,
scratching the head, what gorilla? Sure enough, when the video of the two
groups passing the basketball is replayed, you, the viewer, now looking for the
gorilla, instead of white shirts, can’t miss a woman in a gorilla costume walk
directly through the group, beat on her chest, and walk off. The first time I
saw this video I really wanted to believe that they were two different videos,
that the gorilla was not there the first time. (Looking at these still images
from the video, it seems hard to believe that one could possibly miss the
gorilla!) But no, it is just how our minds work. When totally focused in on one
thing, we can miss other things, no matter how obvious they seem, altogether.
This is why my mother always likes to see Todd, my actor-brother’s shows, at
least twice. One time, she says, the first time, she can only focus on Todd, no
matter what else is happening on stage. But if she actually wants to see the
whole show, she needs to see it a second time, so that she can pay attention to
everything she missed by watching only Todd the first time through. As long as
we are focused on the right thing, the important thing, our inattention to all
the other details isn’t so bad. But if we’re paying attention to the wrong
thing, we can end up in trouble. Scientists say that our limited attention
capacity, our working memory capacity, is why you can walk right by someone you
know and not notice them, if you are looking at or thinking about something
else, or why you can’t really text and drive as well as you think you can, and
people end up in automobile accidents. Sometimes there are big consequences for
paying attention to the wrong thing.[1]
It’s Christmas Eve. Are we paying attention to the right
things? What is holding our gaze today? What’s got our focus? What’s catching
our eye? This year, as I read the Christmas story from Luke again, words I know
so well I could practically recite them for you, I noticed how many phrases in
the story seek to grab our attention, turn our heads, make us look, really
look, at what is going on. Mary and Joseph travel to Bethlehem, and Jesus is
born, laid in a manger because there is no room for them in the inn. And a
spectacular attention-getting display unfolds to get the attention of some
nearby shepherds to make sure that they know to go and see this newborn. A
messenger from God stands before them, and we read, “the glory of the Lord
shone around them,” and sensibly, they were terrified. But the angel says to
them, “Do not be afraid, but SEE! I’m bringing you good news of great joy for
all people: Today, a savior is born, a messiah, God-in-the-flesh.” And then,
the whole sky is filled with angels, “heavenly host,” and they praise God
saying, “Glory to God, and peace on earth!” When the messengers leave, the
shepherds say to each other, “Let us go and see this thing that God has made
known to us.”
They go and find Jesus, Mary and Joseph, and the text says,
“When they saw this,” they let Mary and Joseph know that the angels had sent
them. Some who they tell their story to are amazed, but Mary treasures their words,
pondering them in her heart. And the shepherds head back to their work, but as
they go, they praise God, give glory to God, telling everyone just what they
have heard and seen.
“Don’t be afraid!” the angel says.
“Don’t be afraid, rather look! See! See the sign of good news, the message of
great joy! See this one who brings peace. See this one who is a savior. See
this one who is God-on-earth with us.” “Let’s go and see,” the shepherds say.
“You won’t believe how we ended up here,” they tell Mary and Joseph. “Thank God
for what we saw today,” they told anyone who would listen.
Eventually, Jesus too will invite
people to “Come and see.” It’s a phrase he uses more than once in his preaching
and teaching, and more than that, it’s a grounding in invitation to us that
pervades his ministry. He asks us to look and see: look and see people we don’t
usually see, but Jesus is so good at bringing to the center. Look and see God
at work in the world in places we usually don’t give a second glance. Look and
see God at work in our own lives, as we realize we are precious to God, of
sacred worth, created in God’s own image. Jesus asks us to look and see him:
living in our hearts, living in our world, living in each person we encounter.
Look, see. Pay attention. Let Jesus at work in the world hold your gaze, and
hold your attention.
Tonight we’re being invited,
encouraged, charged with the task: “Come and behold him.” We sing the words. We
read them in the familiar story. Do not be afraid: Look! See! So let’s do just
that. We have made it to the manger. Let’s make sure we’re really seeing what
is held there. Let’s look deeper. Let’s give this child in the manger our full
attention. Our time. Our focus. All of our eye contact. To us, a child is born.
There are so many other places to look, I know. Let’s make sure we’re focusing
on the right thing. As the messengers promised the shepherds, so they promise
us still. If we’ll look, if we see, we’ll find good news, great joy, peace.
We’ll find God, lying in a manger, filling our hearts, changing our world. Amen.
[1]
This illustration and commentary is adapted from my newsletter article at
Liverpool First UMC, September 2013.
