When I was first introduced to the painting Hide and Seek, by Bev Doolittle, I was delighted to discover that which was “hidden.” The painting appears to be merely a brown and white sign proclaiming the words “hide and seek”; however, closer examination reveals twenty-three pinto horses, camouflaged by snow and rocks. What a poignant reminder of how often I fail to see that which is right in front of me!
During the weeks of the Easter season, we hear testimonies of the ways in which Jesus appeared – seemingly camouflaged – to people after the resurrection. Whether on the road to Emmaus or on the shore by fishing boats, Jesus is not immediately recognized. Thomas went as far as to ask to touch him before he would accept that Jesus truly stood before him. Although these Bible stories are parts of ancient history, their essence is repeated every day: Jesus reveals himself continually, and I for one become so engrossed in my life and in what I expect to see or assume I see that I overlook him more often than I care to realize.
In John 21:12-14, we hear how Jesus was immediately recognized in the breaking of the bread: “Jesus said to them, ‘Come, have breakfast.’ And none of the disciples dared to ask him, ‘Who are you?’ because they realized it was the Lord. Jesus came over and took the bread and gave it to them, and in like manner the fish. This was now the third time Jesus was revealed to his disciples after being raised from the dead.” By the third time, they were catching on. Sadly, I am not so quick.
As Christians, we know of Christ through the Bible. We also seek to know him more intimately through prayer. I am aware of Christ’s continued presence in this world through the Spirit. I also know that, unless I am deliberately worshipping, I am not always attentive enough to this presence in my life.
I focus on Jesus when I am in places conducive to prayer and when I am with like-minded people who can engage in faith-based discussions. While it’s relatively easy to find God in church or in religious circles, I must admit that, since Jesus reveals himself on the roads, the gatherings, and fishing shores of today as well, I need to make a more concerted effort to look for him.
I pray and I go to Mass, but do I recognize the face of Jesus in the person who holds a door for me? Do I recognize his presence in the one who requires me to exercise patience? Do I notice God’s hand in the near-miss when I am driving, in the silent prompt to send a quick text to someone who needs to receive one, in the feeling of peace when my whole family is under one roof, in the din of dinnertime conversation, in the sound of rain on the roof of my dry house, or in the discovery of an important item I thought was lost? Often, yes, but not always immediately.
Like the pintos in Doolittle’s paintings, Jesus is not trying to hide from me; he is always there, right in front of my eyes, but I often overlook him. I expect that my oversights are the results of not truly seeking him as I should. This is not to say that praying and focusing during worship are bad things! These are definitely the places to start. In the article “Seven Observations on What We Mean by the Word God,” the lay Catholic theologian Lewis Ayres states, “the liturgy … is of great importance … drawing together titles and names and phrases from Christian tradition, not so much that we may better understand them, but so that we might train the gaze of our minds towards the divine mystery.” We worship to commune with God so that we can carry this relationship within us and train our gaze towards its revelation in our daily lives.
Jesus continues to surround me with his presence, and I pray that I may train myself to notice more of his revelations. Once one sees the pintos hidden in Doolittle’s painting, it is difficult to “not see” them. Surely, in a similar way, the more one deliberately seeks the risen Lord, the easier it will be to find him.
