The Slow Way: Jesus and the Gleam

The work of beholding one another, of passing on a loving gaze, of acknowledging the holy humanity of the people in our orbits—this requires we look up, move through the world a little slower.

for the frantic strivers, serial doers, and weary achievers

Ace’s behavioral therapist is a super hip 29 year old with a dynamic presence. Ace loves his energy and loves that he shows up at our house four afternoons a week. Whatever Ace is up to, whether it’s eating a snack or watching a show, when his therapist arrives, Ace stands up. He’s ready to hang. Together, they work on Ace’s goals: following directions, intentional play, sitting at the table, getting Ace to use his communication device when he needs help. 

When a kid is nonspeaking and has severe autism, it can be difficult to know how to recognize educational milestones. Many nonspeaking individuals have the cognitive ability to form complex thoughts but face challenges when it comes to expressing them verbally or physically. For Ace his motor planning challenges can show up even when he’s asked to point to something on a screen. Sometimes when given the choice between a bird and a cat and asked to point at the cat, he might pick the bird. It’s not because he doesn’t know which of the two images is a cat; it’s because he struggles to get his finger to perform the function his brain already knows. Even tests created with the intellectually disabled in mind don’t often account for this kind of challenge. This is why I don’t believe it when teachers say Ace isn’t reading yet. I watch him look at books with me. I watch his eyes track the words. 

His therapist works with other autistic kids at a school during the day, and he often speaks of “the Gleam” in Ace and in his other students. The Gleam is the sparkle that shows up in Ace’s eyes when he’s tuned in, when he’s tracking what we say, when he’s present to the conversation, engaging with the game we’re playing or book we’re reading. When he can’t communicate his interest with the forms of communication available to him, he does it with his eyes.

In the shower, Ace has a visual of the steps of washing. First get wet, second wash hair, third wash body, etc. Last night as I stood outside the shower talking him through the steps, I pointed at the visual. “Okay, Ace, you’re all wet. What comes first?” He smiled at me, and touched his hair. The Gleam. 

Later, he crawled under his favorite stretchy sheet and pointed to his favorite Pete the Cat book. “You want Pete at the Beach?” The Gleam.

Last week I wrote about an “invisible knowing,” which Richard Rohr describes in his book Things Hidden as something beyond cerebral knowing. He says that often the most essential things in life are only known outside of our thinking minds.

I’m still savoring Things Hidden and was reminded of the Gleam when I read Rohr’s description of presence. How often do we consider what it is to value and honor presence in one another’s lives? To explain presence Rohr takes us to the passage in the first chapter of the gospel of John when Jesus and John the Baptist encounter each other the day after Jesus’s baptism. I’ve never before noticed how this passage is full of “looking” and “seeing” and “beholding.” 

First Jesus sees John the Baptist. They gaze at one another and John affirms him. Next Jesus runs into Andrew and his friend. He invites them to “come and see.” They do. Then Jesus is introduced to Simon Peter, gazes at him, affirms him, and changes Simon’s name in the process. 

And somehow in all this “seeing” and “looking” and “gazing” trust is being built. Rohr calls it “an entire chain of lovely male affirmation and validation…a passing on of the gaze.” If you look this passage up in your typical English translation of the Bible, you may just notice the words “look” and  “see” in these verses. John looks at Jesus. Jesus invites Andrew and his bud to “come and see.” Then, Andrew and his friend “came and saw”! And then there’s the moment with Andrew’s brother Simon. Jesus “looks” at Simon and renames him. 

Have you seen the meme that's been floating around this past year about biblical interpretation? It says this; “Two thousand years from now, people will not understand the difference between butt dial and booty call, and this is exactly why the Bible is hard to understand.” *

It’s also exactly why the study of the details matters. It’s exactly why we need scholars to help us understand not only the original Greek of the New Testament, but also the context in which the stories of scripture were written. So, yes, if you open up this passage, there is a lot of “looking” and “seeing”, but if you listen to the experts, you might find that some “looking” has more meaning. It has the Gleam.

According to pastor and theologian Mark Davis on his blogpost from 2017, there are several unique words for “looking” used in this short passage. I could write them all here, but I would have no idea if I were using them right. So if you’d like more context, please read it all here at Davis’ blog. 

Let’s start with Jesus’s encounter with John the Baptist. When our interpretations say John “looks” at Jesus in verse 36, the Greek word is one that means both to see with the eyes, and to see with the mind—to perceive, know. They see and understand each other. That’s why John can say with conviction: “Behold the lamb of God!”

Then Jesus sees John’s disciples, particularly Andrew. Though his “looking” is usually translated as “see,” the Greek is actually a word that means something more like observe: to behold, to view attentively, to contemplate. There seems to be some time taken for this. We’re not just talking about glances as people walk past each other. We’re talking about attention and care. 

Following that verse, Andrew brings his brother Simon to Jesus. Here when Jesus “looks” he is beholding Simon; he views him, according to Mark Davis, “with steadfastness and attention.” And then? He affirms him, renames him, sets him on a life altering path. 

Last week I wrote about how the invisible things in life are usually the most powerful. One of the invisible things I mentioned is Presence. How we show up for each other, the space between us, the silent exchange that tells another person that they are worthy of being seen, listened to, known. 

I love that we have this example from the life of Jesus. In it, Jesus is beheld, acknowledged, and loved by John the Baptist. And then Jesus can go on and offer that attention to Andrew, Andrew’s buddies, and Simon Peter. When we take the time to see one another, we offer our presence, something that can transform one another and our relationships. 

There’s a reason this letter is called The Slow Way. The work of beholding one another, of passing on a loving gaze, of acknowledging the holy humanity of the people in our orbits—this requires we look up from our devices. It requires that we walk a little slower. It requires that we see the person in front of us at the store, or on the bus, or on the sidewalk. 

Presence is a spiritual gift, modeled for us by Jesus, and offered to us by the Holy Spirit here and now. It is also something we’re invited to make room for in our often frantic daily routines. 

The Gleam is all around us. The question is whether or not we’re looking up from our phones so we can behold it. 

*If you don’t know the difference between “butt dial” and “booty call” ask a youngish person in your life, or send me a note! I’ll explain. :)

A Slow Practice

I once had a friend who told me about her practice of praying for the people who passed by in her ordinary life. As a way of staying connected to the presence of Holy Spirit, she practiced a loving gaze. 

I want us to try on some loving gazes as well. Don't worry, this doesn’t mean I want you to stare at strangers until they feel uncomfortable! A loving gaze doesn’t even demand eye contact (though sometimes eye contact is exactly what a stranger needs). My friend simply practiced a breath prayer as she walked the streets of NYC, as she shopped at the grocery store, as she sat on the subway. 

This is something we can all do wherever we find ourselves in our days, at a traffic light in the car, at a kids’ sporting event, while walking the dog. I don’t remember what my friend prayed, but I like keeping it as simple as possible:

Breathe in: Spirit bless him/her/them.

Breathe out: Your beloved child.

Today as you move through your day, can you write a note somewhere so you’ll remember to look around you, to allow your presence to bring the Gleam? As you sit at the light, behold the beloved in the car beside yours. 

Spirit bless them. Your beloved child. 

As you stand in line at the grocery store, wave to the neighbor passing by, wait for the person in the crosswalk: Spirit bless them. Your beloved child. 

We can take this prayer to the news, as we hear voices speaking of calamity across the world, as we wonder if our actions and prayers can make any difference at all, prayer invites us to join in hope: Spirit bless them. Your beloved child. 

It’s amazing how the invisible things can change our heart toward our world and community. I hope you’ll practice with me this week. And in the meantime, I pray the same for you: Spirit bless you, beloved one. 

A list of things:

• I’ve been giving away free audiobook copies of Blessed Are The Rest of Us each week in September! Look for my Instagram post this Monday to enter. I do the drawing on Fridays. 

• Attention all you Lancaster, PA folks! I’ll be doing a reading at the adorable Nooks Bookshop in Lancaster October 12 at 7:30pm. I’d love for you to join me then! Find tickets here. 

• Other events coming up: 

  • I’ll be in Amarillo, Texas at Central Church of Christ speaking at their Faith Forum Nov. 3 on “Redefining Blessed.” 

  • I’ll be with The Lucky Few podcast for a live podcast event at the National Down Syndrome Society’s Adult Summit in Orange County, CA November 14-16!

• As always, my new book Blessed Are The Rest of Us is available wherever books are sold, but you can find at 40% off the price of other booksellers at BakerBookHouse. Just use the code SLOWWAY at checkout.