A few days ago I was standing in line at Walmart, buying food -- an invigorating experience that makes me feel both very grown-up and very poor. While I waited for the cashier to finish helping the person in front of me, I kept my attention on a magazine cover, eyes wide. Not because I was amazed at the celebrity on the front of the magazine, but because I wasn't actually looking at the tabloid; rather, I was staring into space, thinking about the light of Christ. As a fairly shy, reserved person, I tend to avoid eye contact with people except when necessary. This has been a normal habit for as long as I can remember. Sometimes, when people are walking towards me I try to look away as long as possible, only to smile and make sudden eye contact at the last second, to let them know that I do see them and recognize them as a fellow human being, and then I again avert my eyes to the ground.
Perhaps it's an American thing. We claim to enjoy our privacy, protecting it with all we have and we expect others to both respect that and to do the same. We put fences around our yards to ward strangers off, and post "No Soliciting" signs on our front doors in case some poor salesman happens to be brave enough to enter that barrier. We use caller ID and peepholes to screen calls and visitors. We put restraints on Church so that it can only include Sunday mornings where we can blend in quietly and the occasional surface-level Bible study where we do little to actually dig deeper. And we do everything we can to limit eye contact with other people. This is our way of life.
Yet, there I stood in the line at Walmart, wondering if people could tell I was different; if the light of Christ was so bright within me that just making eye contact with others would tell them how much I care for them -- how much God cares for them. I glanced at the cashier, her face lifeless as she scanned item after item. The customer waited anxiously, nearly frustrated. The cashier glanced at me, so I quickly sent my eyes back to the magazine and a flash of guilt fell to the pit of my stomach.
"Now as Jesus was walking by the Sea of Galilee, He saw two brothers, Simon who was called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea; for they were fishermen. And He said to them, 'Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.' Immediately they left their nets and followed Him."
Matthew 4:18-20
I've heard people say that these men already knew Jesus, and had seen enough of him to trust when he said "Follow Me," but even then it seems like a bold move. Immediately they dropped everything they had to follow him. It makes me wonder: what did they see in Jesus that was so appealing? Perhaps it was charm, or good looks (although I've heard the Bible says he wasn't particularly good looking). Maybe he was witty, and knew how to make people laugh. Or maybe it was the light of God, shining so bright within him that the men were nearly mesmerized. I can't say exactly what it was, but I imagine that at the very least, they knew he was different, just by looking at him.
It's so frustrating to be a Christian sometimes. I can hardly bring myself to make eye contact with others, let alone tell them about Jesus. I want others to look at me and just know something is different. I want them to be drawn to me, the way the disciples were drawn to Jesus. I want a chance to tell them about the hope I have in Christ, as Peter tells us to do in 1 Peter 3:15. Perhaps it is an American thing. Or maybe it's just because I'm shy. Whatever the case, I am praying God will show me the way and teach me to be open. Along the way I will have to trust Him to shine through me, because that isn't something I can force. And I know He will, because it's all for His glory!
