Week 2 | Connection: In the Gaze of God, Matthew 3

As we think about who we are, our name is often one of the first clues to our identity. We are named by human parents with a last name that identifies our family connection and a first name that provides a unique identifier within that family. However, even these names fall short of what we need and desire. 

As God the Father says, “This is My Son,” He is stating something that could seem to simply be a fact, but it is so much more. He is defining the relationship that He holds with Jesus. God exists in an eternal relationship – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Before anything was made, God existed as One in three persons – a mystery which theologians have named the Trinity. The most fundamental reality of the universe is this relationship. Son of God defines and describes Jesus like nothing else. 

His earthly name, Jesus of Nazareth, tells of the town where his family is from as well as the name His parents gave Him. They were instructed by God, through an angel, to name Him Jesus (Matthew 1:22) or Immanuel (quoting from Isaiah 7). Both names describe His relationship to humanity. Our earthly names speak of our relationship to humanity as well.

“This is My Son” speaks to Jesus’ relationship to God the Father. When the Father looked at Jesus, His primary thought was not, “This is Jesus (God who saves) or Immanuel (God with us),” but, This is My Son.” Jesus’ “earthly” names are quite significant, but they speak more to what Jesus does than who He is. It is indeed notable that these words of Sonship were affirmed before Jesus had preached a sermon, healed the sick, or gone to the cross.

In the same way, we are called “children of God” (1 John 3:1). This is who we are. We may think of ourselves according to our profession, our family of origin, our gender, our past, or whatever else holds our attention, but the reality is that our relationship to God is the most real thing about us.

Is that how you think of yourself?  

Do you allow a role, a profession, a gifting, or even your behavior or choices in life to be what defines you? Sit with this for a moment and consider the question: Who am I? As you notice that things other than who you are as a child of God surface, gently release them and let them go. None of these things you might release are necessarily wrong or even incorrect on one level (some of them may be), but they are not who you are.

God not only names us son or daughter, but He also has a name for us that is unique to us. In the book of Revelation, Jesus challenges seven churches to repent and turn their hearts back toward Him. To the church in Pergamum, He promises that with their repentance will come “a white stone, with a new name written on the stone that no one knows except the one who receives it” (2:17). To have a “nickname” like this is picture of intimacy and affection. 

Will you listen for the name God has given you? 

Take a few moments and sit in quiet with the Lord. Ask Him what He calls you. Wait and listen prayerfully. Perhaps you have asked the same question previously. If so, ask again and notice if there is something new or simply an affirmation of what you heard before.

Will you surrender to what God names you? Will you release other names or identities you’ve held tight in your grip? You may notice some resistance arise as you receive His name for you. Often, we have names that we received as children related to our bodies, our intellectual capabilities, our emotional life, or our actions. These can be difficult to release as they may have shaped much of how we interact with ourselves, others, and the world. In addition, as we allow roles, jobs, giftings, or callings to name us, we may have thought: Who am I if not this?

Sit for a few moments and quietly receive His name for you: son/daughter and/or perhaps what is written on that white stone.

Prayer: Lord, You have called me by name. Help me to release all other identities and names. I surrender to what You call me. Amen. 

Week 2 | Connection: In the Gaze of God, Matthew 3

We first see Jesus interact with the gaze of the Father at His baptism (Matthew 3:16-17).

And when Jesus was baptized, immediately he went up from the water, and behold, the heavens were opened to him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming to rest on him; and behold, a voice from heaven said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.”

As the Father looked at Jesus, what expression do you imagine was on the Father’s face? This may seem like an odd question, but it is vitally important. The look on someone’s face can reinforce their words as true or betray them as false. Because of the nature of the One spoke those words over Jesus, it would suggest a smile. God the Father was expressing the love and connection He experienced with the Son.

As you consider God’s gaze upon you, do you see a smile? Do you feel the warmth and grace of the words spoken? 

In the original Greek text, the words flow like this: This is my son, the beloved, in whom I delight. Three things are being said. All of them are important. All of them point to the connection between the God the Father and God the Son. Each word points to an aspect of the core human need to be securely attached. Attachment Theory uses the concepts of being safe, seen, and secure to explain what it means to be connected and loved. We experience this with someone who is consistently present in our lives (promotes the feeling of safety), caring and nurturing (promotes the sense of being seen), and actively responsive to us (promotes an awareness of security).  

In Christ, we are the recipients of God’s gaze as well. He looks upon us with a smile on His face and says, “You are my daughter/son (you’re safe with me), you are my beloved (you are seen and known), and you are a delight (rest secure; knowing that I am involved in your life).” Our response to this is Jesus’ contemplative rhythm: surrender, sit, and see.

What is most real about us is who we are in relation to God: We are “hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3), and we also are “called children of God” (1 John 3:1). We are safe, seen, and secure. However, it is possible that we do not see ourselves this way. We may know the verses in the Bible but not feel it in our bones. We may know the theology of God’s love but not experience it as we confront the realities of life. 

This is why contemplative practice is so important. When we are experiencing life in ways that lead us away from a restfulness in God, contemplation allows us to return. We simply notice afflictive thoughts and/or emotional reactions and we return once again to the gaze of God. 

However, it is also possible that we perceive God’s gaze not as a smile but perhaps some kind of frown or even a blank stare. It is possible that our core assumption is that God is disinterested or distant or judgmental. As you sit in the gaze of God – that quiet place where words are not needed – notice if your perception of God’s face is anything other than that of a loving, connected Father. If it is, release those thoughts and hear these words spoken over you.

This is my daughter/son, the beloved, in whom I take delight.

Memorize these words from Matthew 3:17. Make them your meditation today.

Let His gaze define you. Rest in it. Trust it. Another way to state it: Surrender to God’s gaze as the defining reality of your life; sit in your belovedness; and see God at work in you and around you.

Prayer: Lord, in your mercy, give me the strength to surrender to your voice, sit in it, and see myself and the world through it. Amen.

Week 1 | Contemplation: A Long, Loving Look at God

What we encounter in the context of contemplative prayer can be difficult. We may encounter unwanted thoughts and temptations. Old wounds may surface. Obsessive thoughts may come. The invitation of prayer in the inner room is to notice and release what may come, entrusting it all to the Lord’s care.

Just as Jesus encourages us to enter that “inner room” for quiet prayer, He teaches His disciples to be careful not to “heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard for their many words” (Matthew 6:7). There is a temptation as we pray to think that prayer is about controlling an outcome or making something happen. Jesus goes on to say: “Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask Him” (v 8). We can trust that the releasing and letting go of thoughts and emotions in prayer are indeed met with God’s care. He holds us – all of who we are (thoughts, emotions, memories, actions, habits), and we experience freedom as we release control and wait in His presence.

Next, Jesus says: “Pray then like this …” and He offers the sublime words that we know as “The Lord’s Prayer”: 

First, we turn our gaze to heaven and proclaim that God is holy. He is set apart. He is like no other. This sets our desire on Him. In the following phrases we see the three aspects of Christ’s contemplative way: surrender, sit, and see (see the introduction).

Next, we ask for His kingdom and His will to happen on the earth (in our lives) as in the perfection of heaven. His kingdom is His presence and activity. His will is His heart or desire. We surrender ourselves to His presence and His desires in trust.

Asking for daily bread acknowledges that He provides for us daily. This reminds us of the provision of daily bread (manna) in the wilderness journey of the people of God in the Old Testament. They had enough for each day and were instructed not to take more than was needed. The invitation here is to see how God provides – to notice God’s work all around.

The request to be forgiven as we forgive roots us in the grace of God. We let go of our sin and we let go of the sin done against us. As we keep coming back to this place, we sit in the love of God.

Finally, Jesus invites us to pray that each circumstance we encounter would lead to deliverance from evil. The words “deliverance” and “evil” may feel a bit archaic, but they are powerful. Deliverance could be translated “save” or “rescue,” and evil is simply “that which is wrong.” In this context, where the desire is to contemplate the Father, evil is anything that draws us away from Him. The prayer is that we would see the temptations to live independently and instead experience rescue (deliverance) by the hand of our Father.

Slowly pray the Lord’s Prayer each day before you enter your time of quiet prayer.

Week 1 | Contemplation: A Long, Loving Look at God

Theologian Walter J. Burghardt, S.J. described contemplation as “a long, loving look at the Real.” Consider that statement for a moment. Each part. Long – contemplation is not at “drive-thru” speed but slow and patient. Loving – contemplation is relational, not transactional. Look – contemplation is about intuitive awareness, not intellectual knowing. Finally, the Real – God is the reality in which we abide in contemplation. 

As we turn (metanoia) to look at Him, we surrender to His gaze, we sit in His gaze, and then we see how He is with us and in the world around us. 

St. John Vianney, a 17^th century French priest, told the story of observing a peasant sitting silently for hours in the pews of a church. He asked him: “What are you doing all that time?” The man replied, “I look at Him, and He looks at me.”

In Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount, He shares that the Father sees us as we engage Him in that quiet prayer of the heart. Of course, God sees us all the time but Jesus speaks of a “seeing” that is about awareness and beholding. It is relational rather than informational. As we come to contemplative prayer, we rest in the awareness that God is aware of us. We behold the reality that He is beholding us. It is a shared awareness that could be called intimacy. This is why Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 2 that we share “the mind of Christ.” His awareness is accessible to us. 

We will explore the Father’s gaze further as we look at the baptism of Jesus, but the heart of it was a beholding in love. Jesus returned the Father’s gaze with His own. In John 5:19, we read: “The Son of Man can do nothing of his own accord, but only what He sees the Father doing.” This awareness of the Father’s activity only came by contemplation. Jesus lived in the gaze of God the Father, and acted from that gaze.

The 13^th century mystic theologian Meister Eckhart described what happens in contemplation: “The eye through which I see God is the same eye through which God sees me; my eye and God’s eye are one eye, one seeing, one knowing, one love.” Indeed, it is a picture of shared awareness or intimacy. Contemplation is not achieved as much as it received. We receive and experience what is already there in Christ. This can cut against much of our “religious” instinct to work for spiritual growth and development. The invitation is to show up to the One who has already shown up to us.

The noisiness of our world conspires against this contemplative way. Certainly, we are wise to pay attention to the presence of physical noise, our own internal noise due to wounds and compulsions, and even digital noise. However, the most difficult noise we can experience is the incessant drive to make something happen – to conquer – to achieve. This voice is in the air around us, seemingly accusing us if we aren’t “winning” at life. The soul is not conquered and tamed through effort and discipline. In fact, this is not even the goal. The goal is loving presence so that what is present might emerge. 

Parker Palmer beautifully described the soul and the challenge we face:

The soul is like a wild animal – tough, resilient, savvy, self-sufficient, and yet exceedingly shy. If we want to see a wild animal, the last thing we should do is to go crashing through the woods, shouting for the creature to come out. But if we are willing to walk quietly into the woods, and sit quietly for an hour or two at the base of a tree, the creature we are waiting for may well emerge, and out of the corner of an eye we will catch a glimpse of the precious wildness we seek.

A common question we may ask is whether anything is happening in our practice of contemplative prayer. Unlike other spiritual practices where the “reward” is immediate and recognizable, contemplative prayer is more like putting money in an interest-bearing account. Over time is when the “magic” happens. Small things can blossom into a windfall with consistency and time. 

As in any relationship, the joy is in presence – simply being together. The invitation of contemplation is to let go of outcomes and expectations to simply be. As we learn to be quiet as it relates to outcomes and behold the One beholding us, we begin to see beautiful things emerge over time.

As you practice your quiet prayer today, notice when you want to race ahead or even finish, and instead simply wait in silence, perhaps repeating the prayer from Psalm 62.

Prayer: “O God, for you alone, my soul waits in silence.” Amen. (Ps 62:1)

Week 1 | Contemplation: A Long, Loving Look at God

When we read that Jesus “went up on the mountain by himself to pray” (Matt 14:23), we may wonder what He was praying about “all night” (Luke 6:12). Because Jesus would have given Himself already to the regular prayers the Jewish people offered each day, the Gospel writers note these withdrawals for prayer because they were not the norm. In fact, His disciples asked “teach us to pray” (Luke 11:1) because what he was doing was so different.

These prayers of Jesus were not about a particular form and content, but quiet prayers of the heart, giving loving attention to God. Jesus explains this in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 6:6: “But when you pray, go into your (inner) room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” 

In talking about an inner room (Greek, tameion: secret chamber, a closet where valuables might be kept), Jesus speaks metaphorically about one’s heart. Through His actions, He demonstrated getting away physically, and now He speaks of retreating to the interior of our hearts. This was the understanding of the early church. Origen (early 3^rd century) said: “The ‘inner room’ is the heart of the believer, and the shutting of the door is the closing off of the senses, so the soul may converse with God alone.”

The suggestion to “close the door” forms the foundation for contemplation. It invites stillness, solitude, and silence in the interior of one’s life. Stillness reflects the release of activity and striving. It can be helpful to allow one’s body to relax through breathing, good posture, and a comfortable seat. Solitude suggests letting go of anyone who might be physically or emotionally near by, in order to be with God alone. Finally, silence is about letting go of words and thoughts, not fighting these but simply not grasping for them or entertaining them. As we release or let go, we simply notice and return to God who enough.

Augustine commented: “Your desire is your prayer; if your desire is continual, your prayer is continual.” In Matthew 6, Jesus contrasts receiving reward from those around us with receiving reward from God. There is a reward to simply be in His presence. This reward may be readily apparent, or we may wait to fully understand. Jesus invites us to let go of any perceived reward we may gain from practicing our faith in front of others to something better. Jesus taps into the reality that we “are a desire for God” (Alan Jones). 

In this invitation to retreat to the inner room of our heart, it is desire that leads us there and it is desire that is nurtured. Psalm 63:1 expresses this desire: “O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” When we desire something, we wait for it. Perhaps this gives some context for Psalm 62:1: “For God alone my soul waits in silence …” The prayer of the heart is a waiting prayer simply for the sake of God Himself. He is the reward.

And so, why the heart? Why not stay with our thoughts of God and meditate there? It is important to note that this is not mindless prayer, even though it is in the heart. The 19^th century Russian mystic Theophan the Recluse helps clarify as he wrote: “To pray is to descend with the mind into the heart, and there to stand before the face of the Lord, ever-present, all-seeing, within you.” He goes further in saying: “At present, your thoughts of God are in your head. And God himself, is as it were, outside you, and so your prayer and other spiritual exercises remain exterior. Whilst you are still in your head, thoughts will not easily be subdued but will always be whirling about, like snow in winter or clouds of mosquitos in the summer.”

Paul describes this dynamic in his prayer in Ephesians 3: “… that He may grant you to be strengthened with power thought his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith – that you being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge.” 

Clearly, this is a prayer that something would happen in the heart (one’s inner being). What happens in the heart is a “knowing” that surpasses knowledge. In other words, it is an experiential knowing. This happens through stillness, solitude, and silence.

Take a few minutes today – at least five – and simply sit with God in a quiet prayer of the heart. There is nothing to discuss, nothing to do, and nothing to decide. Just be in His presence. If you notice you are distracted, gently return to your desire. Make this a daily commitment until the end of this study.

Prayer: “O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” Amen. (Ps 63:1)

Week 1 | Contemplation: A Long, Loving Look at God

Day 2: Jesus and the Quiet Place 

One of the most striking features of Jesus’ life was His pattern of retreat. He retreated to the desert, a mountain, or a garden repeatedly (cf., Matthew 4:1; 14:13, 23; 17:11; Mark 1:12-13, 35; 6:31, 46; Luke 4:1-2, 42; 5:16; 6:12; 9:18; 22:39-41; John 6:15; 18:1-2). Jesus nurtured His life with God the Father (living in His gaze) by going to a quiet place.

Clearly, Jesus lived an active life of ministry. He gave Himself away. This was balanced and nurtured by a regular pattern of withdrawal. He stepped away from the crowds and the noise, to go to places where He likely would not be found. As we walk through life, we are wise to follow Jesus in this way. If we are going to confront the hard things of life – both external to us and the wounds we hold inside – we have to get “off the scene.”

Henri Nouwen describes the quiet place where you cannot be found by anyone but God: “solitude is the place of the great struggle and the great encounter – the struggle against the compulsions of the false self, and the encounter with the loving God who offers himself as the substance of the new self.”

The desert, in Jesus’ time, was not an idyllic retreat location, but a place of desolation, deprivation, and danger. At the same time, historically, it was a place where the people of God encountered God in profound ways. And of course, the mountain was a place of encounter as well.

In Mark 1, Jesus begins His public ministry – calling His disciples, delivering a man with an unclean spirit, and healing many others who were sick. Mark comments that “the whole city was gathered” (v. 33). The text goes on to say that Jesus would not let the demons He cast out speak, “because they knew Him” (v. 34). Many other times, Jesus asked people not to share who He was. He had a sense of the Father’s timing and in what He had come to do. The temptation was real for Him to be swayed by people clamoring for more than He was being led to offer. This tension point had to be taken to prayer. So, the narrative goes on:

And rising very early in the morning, while it was still dark, He departed and went out to a desolate place, and there He prayed. And Simon and those who were with him searched for Him, and they found Him and they said to him, ‘Everyone is looking for you.’ And He said to them, ‘Let us go on to the next towns, that I may preach there also, for that is why I came out” (Mark 1:35-38).

Several features of this passage are worth noting. First, it was early and dark. Like an athlete who gets up early to train, this demonstrates Jesus’ commitment to the quiet place with His Father. This time of day was also important because people would still be asleep and not able to pull Jesus away. Second, His disciples appeared to be a bit annoyed, exaggerating that “everyone is looking for you.” As we follow Jesus and His contemplative path, there will be people in our lives who want to distract us or even derail our pursuit of the quiet place. Finally, Jesus responded to the requests to come back to town with, “Let’s go on to the next towns, that I may preach there also, for that is what I came out for.” The reason for coming out (or, departing) from the city was so that He could preach. Jesus knew His mission and if He held one healing clinic after another, that would leave Him with no space to preach the gospel of the kingdom. We too need the quiet space to recenter and return to who we are and what we are called to do.

Without the quiet place, we will find ourselves swayed by the winds and storms of life and relationships. As we come out of the quiet place, we are renewed and strengthened. Abba Moses, a 4^th century desert father, said, “Go, sit in your cell and your cell will teach you everything.” In a very clear, concrete way, he is saying: Formation happens in the quiet place with God.

As we begin this exploration of the contemplative way of Jesus, we begin with the concrete, practical encouragement to create a time and place to practice contemplation. It is here that we practice metanoia – returning again and again to presence. Without that, our desire to follow Jesus becomes a wish with little hope for fulfillment.

Take a few moments and decide the “where” and the “when” for your contemplative practice. Contemplation does not grow in crowded soil. You may need to clear away some clutter.

Prayer: O God, you will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are fixed on you. For in returning and rest we shall be saved. In quietness and trust shall be our strength. Amen.

Week 1 | Contemplation: A Long, Loving Look at God

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. (Hebrews 4:15)

Jesus lived in the gaze of God. All His thoughts, feelings, and actions were experienced in the awareness of His Father’s presence. This is why the writer of Hebrews could say: “… yet without sin.” Even so, Jesus understands being tempted away from God. In His humanity, He had to nurture His connection with the Father. Jesus had to live with contemplative, prayerful rhythms that sustained Him.

As we follow the contemplative path of Jesus, we begin with a turn toward the gaze of God. This is why Jesus’ first teachings as He began His ministry centered on this invitation:

Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. (Matt 4:17)

Repent! How does that word strike you? For many of us, it is a concept fraught with mixed emotions. When we hear that word, we may think of a fiery preacher telling us to change our behavior or we’ll go to hell. Or, it may conjure up feelings of ourselves or others being ostracized from community. It is unfortunate that the word “repent” has been used as a weapon of shame and condemnation when the reality is that it is one of the most beautiful words in the Biblical text.

Most often, we sense that repentance means to stop doing something and to feel bad about it. However, this is not how the word was used by Jesus and the biblical writers. 

In the Gospels and throughout the New Testament writings, repent is the Greek word metanoia. The prefix meta means change, and noia is the mind. It is most often used to refer to a change of mind, or thinking. The picture painted is of turning toward something. Of course, this involves turning away from something, but it is primarily about turning toward – turning toward God. To metanoia is to move our awareness of anything other than God, back to God. And rather than our “turn” being rooted in the perception that God is angry with us, Romans 2:4 expresses that “God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance.”

We begin with the word repent because it is where Jesus began, and as we seek to live in the gaze of God, it always involves a turning. In fact, it involves turn after turn. Whenever we discover that our awareness is elsewhere, we return. 

Meister Eckhart wrote that “to repent is to turn away from all that is not God.”

Jesus invites us to turn because “the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” His kingdom is His presence right here and right now. To turn toward His presence is the first act of a contemplative life. From there, we begin to inhabit the rhythms that sustained and nurtured Jesus in the awareness of God’s presence. 

Writer and teacher Cynthia Bourgeault comments: “The whole mission of Jesus can fundamentally be seen as trying to push, tease, shock, and wheedle people beyond their egoic operating systems into metanoia …” By egoic operating systems, she means that we have default reactions to the world around us to keep us safe, seen, and secure. As we turn toward God, we open ourselves to Him. We are turning away from ourselves in order to receive His gaze.

Take a few moments and turn your heart and mind toward God and His presence here and now. There is no right or wrong way to do it. It is the intention of your heart that grounds the turning (repentance).

As you turn toward Him, what is He bringing to your awareness? Sit with this for a few moments and rest in His presence with you.

Prayer: Lord, help me to turn to you over and over again throughout this day. Amen.

The Contemplative Path of Jesus

In Psalm 25, David prays a profound yet simple prayer:

“Show me your ways, O Lord, and teach me your paths.”

As we become more and more aware of Jesus, we are drawn to His way. A simple reading of the Gospels demonstrates His love, His compassion, His heart, His strength, and His wisdom. Jesus had a non-anxious, non-judgmental, non-controlling, non-reactive presence. We long to be like that – to live like that!

In all of these “non-” descriptors, we see the “what” of Jesus’ life, but we may not be aware of the “how,” i.e., His path. His path or His way is the reason He lived as He did. Isaiah 55 tells us that God’s ways are not our ways. But what is God’s way? Specifically, what is the way of Jesus?

Jesus lived contemplatively. 

Rather than reacting to the world around Him, Jesus responded to the Father, being led by the Holy Spirit. In John 5:19, Jesus says about Himself: “The Son of Man can do nothing of His own accord but only what He sees the Father doing.” A few verses later (5:30) He says: “I can do nothing on my own. As I hear, I judge (or discern), and my judgment (discernment) is just, because I seek not my own will but the will of him who sent me.” What Jesus did and what He discerned were rooted in looking at and listening to His Father.

At His baptism in Matthew 3, before He had engaged in any ministry or preached a sermon, the Father looked at Him and said, “This is my Son, the beloved, in whom I take delight,” It was from this place of being gazed upon by the Father that He proceeded, doing and discerning. He lived in the gaze of God. In the next chapter of Matthew (4), His desire to live in the gaze of God was tested in the wilderness. Next, He offered the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7) as an invitation to others to live in the gaze of God.

We live in a world immersed in reactivity and control. Rather than responding to life from a place of patient reflection and receiving from the gaze of God, we have learned to react from a place of living under a different gaze. 

1 John 2:15-17 describes it as the ways (path) of the world in which the message received is that we are not enough, we haven’t done enough, and we don’t have enough. When we live non-contemplatively, we find false security and we are caught in a cycle of inordinate attachments and unceasing striving.

Jesus invites us to something different.

Come, Follow Me …

In Matthew 11:28–30, Jesus’ invitation is familiar:

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

Yes! Of course, this matches that desire to be like Him, to live like Him. What we often miss is the context. Notice the verse right before this passage: 

All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him. (Matthew 11:27)

It is this revelation of the Father that Jesus offers at the end of Matthew 11. His yoke or His way is rooted in the revelation of the Father which is the experience of His gaze. Jesus invites us into encounter with the living God who called Him Son and beloved and delightful. Instead of the voices of the world, we hear the voice of God which says we are enough (“you are my son/daughter”), we’ve done enough (“you have my love, period”), and we have enough (“you have all that you need”).

What does it look like to live in the gaze of God? This will be our exploration through these forty days of reflections. Interestingly, in the early church, a hymn emerged that described Christ’s contemplative way. Paul quotes from this hymn in Philippians 2:

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross (vv. 5-8)

What does this tell us about the contemplative path of Jesus? 

First, Jesus did not grasp or try to use His equality with God to gain something for Himself. He surrenderedto His relationship with Father and Spirit. He released clinging and fighting and striving in order to rest in who He was. 

Second, we find the words “made Himself nothing” which might be more accurately translated from the Greek as “emptied Himself.” From a place of rest, He sat empty of any need to define, defend, or declare self. He received and rested in the reality that He was actively being loved by God the Father.

Third, Jesus humbled Himself. Rather than relying upon His own perspective, He became a servant. A servant is one who is aware of and responsive to a master. Being surrendered and sitting in love, He could see what was invited for His life.

The contemplative rhythm that shaped and led Jesus is this: surrender, sit, and see. This is the rhythm we will observe at His baptism, in the 40 days in the wilderness, and through the Sermon on the Mount.

We too are invited to live in the gaze of God. If we are in Christ, the words spoken over Jesus at His baptism are also spoken over us. We have the same invitation to surrender to Him, sit in His gaze, and seewith His eyes.

The letter to the Hebrews (4:15) tells us that “we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.” We will be tempted away from this contemplative posture, and Jesus understands as He experienced the same. Of course, this happened in the wilderness of Matthew 4 and in Matthew 22 as He asked that the cup of suffering be taken away. He responded with that first part of the contemplative path: surrender (“not My will but Thy will be done”). 

Sermon on the Mount

After emerging from the wilderness, Jesus taught the longest recorded sermon of His ministry. In ancient writings and teachings, the structure often followed an X (or, chiastic pattern) in which the teaching begins and ends in the same place with the main point in the middle. 

Jesus began with talking about the kingdom of God: “Blessed are the poor in the spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matt 5:3). He ended with challenging: “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven” (Matt 7:21). Because “heaven” was the Jewish way of saying “God,” kingdom of God and kingdom of heaven are interchangeable. The kingdom of God is the presence and action of God in the world. Getting in touch with the “kingdom” is to live with an awareness of His presence. The middle of the sermon (or, the main point) is Jesus’ teaching on prayer: both the invitation to go into one’s inner room and the Lord’s Prayer.

How do we live with an awareness and responsiveness to the presence of God? How do we live in the gaze of God? By learning to pray as Jesus did. 

It is fascinating to note that each part of the Lord’s Prayer addresses the contemplative rhythm Jesus modeled:

• Surrender – “may Your kingdom come; may Your will be done” – releasing the self
• Sit – “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive others” – resting in His love
• See – “give us our daily bread” – receiving His provision

The rest of the Sermon on the Mount challenges us to look at the ways we are drawn away from this contemplative rhythm. As we reflect on Jesus’ temptations in the wilderness, Jesus walks us though how to come back again and again to surrender, sit, and see. As we do, we let go of our reactions of anger, shame, and anxiety, and instead respond from the presence of God in the world around us.  

An Overview of the Journey

These forty days track along with the Lenten Season, starting on Ash Wednesday. The days of Lent are counted Monday through Saturday with Sunday being a feast day/celebration. If one fasts during Lent, Sunday is a day to eat and give thanks – a day to celebrate the resurrection in the midst of the journey. The forty days of Lent reflect on the forty days of Jesus in the wilderness. It was there that He fasted and engage in spiritual battle. This time of wilderness is the heart of these reflections on the gaze of God.

Below is an outline of each week of “In the Gaze of God.” Each week has six days of reflections (except the first which starts on Ash Wednesday) and the seventh day of each week is an invitation to a contemplative practice.

ONE: Contemplation: a Long, Loving Look at God

TWO: Connection: in the Gaze of God, Matthew 3

THREE: Wilderness: from Temptation to Deliverance Matthew 4

FOUR: Surrender: from Anger to Stillness, Matthew 5

FIVE: Sit: from Shame to Solitude, Matthew 6

SIX: See: From Anxiety to Silence, Matthew 6

SEVEN: Peace: from Distraction to Presence, Matthew 7

A Prayer as We Begin this Journey

“Show me your ways, O Lord, 

and teach me your paths.”

Psalm 25:3

As we lead up to this forty-day reflection on what Jesus experienced and learned in the wilderness, let’s pray this prayer together.