It's all in the face

Standing in a longer-than-necesary line at Walmart I began to play mental games.  I had chosen this line as the fastest due to the number is single young men in line.  My thought being that this type of person would be less likely to strike up a conversation with the weary elderly woman running the check stand.  I was also curious as to what the last guy in line had tucked under his arm.  I could see that it was a pink box, and I could see that he didn't want me to see what he had.  So I chose his line.  And that is when the game started.  Under his arm was a box on which I could only read the first two words, "Control Top...".  My spy game kicked into high gear.  Either I was standing in line behind one of the most whipped young men I have ever sort-of-met, or he was going to hold up a pharmacy.  My spy sense suggested the latter.  And so I studied his face, so that I could be the hero that was able to identify him from a line up.  Early twenties.  Dark complexion.  Military style haircut.  Funny looking earlobes.  He hasn't shaved for a couple of days.  All these little details I tucked away in case the cops needed my help.  And that is when I noticed the next guy's T-shirt.  It said "Super Villain".  Aha!  A conspiracy.  But before I could do anything more than learn the looks of this guys arm tattoo, he paid and left.  Either the two criminals weren't working together, or they played a pretty cool game in front of the laser eyes of the balding guy standing behind them.  Again, I suspect the latter.
Last Friday night my wife and I decided to stay up and watch an hour-long documentary about rendering a picture of Jesus' face from the Shroud of Turin.  It was fascinating and had lots of interesting history.  But the closer it got the big reveal of their picture of the Savior's face, the heavier my eyelids got.  And sometime right before the big moment, I gave up and fell asleep.  I have no idea if Jesus looks like history says he should or if he looks like a vacuum salesman.  Only eternity will tell.
On Saturday afternoon my family attended the local Passion play.  I don't mean to drop names, but I know Jesus personally.  Truthfully.  The man that plays Jesus is the math teacher in the next classroom at school.  I guess you could say that I'm pretty familiar with the face of Jesus.  But it wasn't Jesus that captured my attention during the play; it was my oldest son.  He had moved over to sit on my lap so he could see the action better.  His eyes were focused on the scenes as Jesus was scourged, raised up on the cross and came back to life emerging from the smoke-filled tomb.  I studied my son as his six year-old mind whirred with the questions that he would ask Jesus at the conclusion of the play.  I smelled his hair.  I felt his skinny little ribs.  I love this boy.
And then it hit me.  Jesus is the son of God!  Not that I hadn't heard it or contemplated it.  It just overwhelmed me.  God the Father had enjoyed eternal communion with Jesus.  His connectedness and love for Jesus are incomparable.  And then he had to look at the blood drenched, swollen features of his son as he endured the full wrath of God; because of me.  God's great love for me caused him to turn away from Jesus.  And while I think pretty highly of myself, as we all sinfully do, it became apparent that God longed to see the face of the pharmacy thief so badly that he would allow the torture of his only son, just to be able to pull the pantyhose from that man's face and enter eternal communion with him. 
And so as my boys grilled Jesus about the whip (yarn), the blood (fake), the nails (a U-bolt painted flesh tone) and seemed satisfied to have pried all the secrets from the mock-Prince of Peace, I wondered what it will feel like to gaze upon the face of Jesus.  Not the tennis coach-math teacher Jesus, but God's beloved son.  What petty questions fill my mind now about the nature of the universe and the challenges of life.  I'm pretty sure that when I see the face of my risen savior, I will no longer wish I had stayed awake to watch the conclusion of the History Channel show.  I'm pretty sure I will wish to stay awake and gaze at that face forever.

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