He sat there beside me, not knowing I surveyed his every move. I looked down upon his face during the Worship Assembly, just as the communion tray passed by. I enjoyed his innocent, slightly freckled complexion and marveled how a recent trip to the barber was already giving way to the ever determined increase of new hair. His cheeks gently moved as his tongue manipulated a loose front tooth from side to side.
As I took of the bread that is to believers the body of Christ, the small hands of my son passed the emblem on to his mother and I wondered about the incarnation. Any Bible Dictionary sets forth how God reveals Himself as human in Jesus. He is the embodiment of the Word, becoming flesh. As the God-Man, He mediates God to humans. As the Man-God, He represents humans to God.
Manifestation, personification, and representation: Incarnation.
A more practical theology fueled my imagination Sunday. I could not quit admiring the shiny gold rims of my son's spectacles. Nor could I escape boyish questions that led me to a deeper communion experience.
Did Jesus wear glasses?
Did He have freckles? Did he look under his bed roll the morning after He lost His first tooth for a coin or two? What chores did his small hands perform for his mother?
Who cut his hair? Was it auburn, almost red in the sunshine but brown at first glance? Did He have wavy locks, or did it come straight down like the Jesus of Hollywood so he could easily wear it long in the later years of His ministry?
Sitting in that pew last Sunday, though the bread of communion passed me by, the Spirit of God did not. A fresh sense of the body of Christ came over me. Jesus really did become flesh and dwell among us. He really was a man, tempted in every way, just as we are, yet was without sin.
The wafer in my mouth and the young boy at my side reminded me of the body of Christ and my place in it.
His body ... given for me.
And now I live and give my life, my son and family for Him. We're His body today.
I suppose Jesus never wore eyeglasses. I'm told the Chinese invented them years after He walked the streets of Jerusalem. Bifocals didn't come along until Ben Franklin suggested the idea in 1770.
But seeing my son there beside me last Sunday with his tiny new glasses made me realize somehow that Jesus was both fully man and fully divine.
To remember anew how God sees me through the lenses of His love is a priceless gift. I was reminded in communion last Sunday, looking at my son, seeing God's son.
Pray this prayer with me today: Give me more vision to see you Lord. Thank you for Jesus and His servant, saving heart. Make me more like Him and make the church more and more like His body, broken as a gift to the world.