It’s a curiosity for Christians (and perhaps non-Christians) that we can’t see God. Moses, the greatest of the Old Testament prophets, was said to have spoken to God face to face (Exodus 33:11). In other words, he saw God. So why can’t we? Yet, just moments later, Moses asks God to see God’s glory. The Lord says he’ll permit it, but that he’ll push Moses into the cleft of a rock as he passes by because no one can see the face of God and live (Exodus 33:20). So which was it? Did Moses see the face of God, or did he not? How do we explain this apparent contradiction? And what does it mean for us?
I think the answer is Christological. Jesus is “the image of the invisible God,” as Colossians 1:15 puts it. How can you have an image of something that is invisible? It would seem to be a total contradiction. It is, except in one instance: the incarnate Lord. When we look at Jesus we both see God face to face, and are prevented from seeing him face to face so that we might not die. Like Moses, we’re prevented from seeing God face to face, but that’s precisely how we do. It’s all quite mysterious, but it’s all quite true.
But that still doesn’t get to the depths of why we don’t see God as a matter of routine in the Christian life. Or, if we on do on occasion (as some have testified), why it is that we see him in some instances but not in others. It’s an important question because one might describe the Christian life as an elongated attempt to see the invisible God, whether in baptism, in the Lord’s Supper, in prayer with our eyes closed, or in the faces of our neighbors and enemies. And our hope is that we’ll have uninhibited and uninterrupted sight of God on the Last Day.
If the answer to the question, “how can I see God” is Christological, then we should probably rephrase our curiosity as, “how do I see Jesus?” So I invite you to consider a sequence of stories in Luke 18-19 about some people who could, and some people who couldn’t, see Jesus. We can learn from them. Though I’ll warn you up front that it won’t satisfy curiosity, but intensify it in the best way possible.
Beginning in Luke 18:31, Jesus tells his disciples for a third time that he’ll die and rise again. He’s about to enter Jerusalem where all these things will take place. But Luke says that what Jesus says was “hidden” from them (v.34). Note that Luke uses a vision-word here. They can see Jesus standing in front of him, but they can’t see what he means when he says he’s going to die and rise again.
The next scene is of a blind beggar outside of Jericho. At the risk of restating the obvious, he can’t see. I need to say it again because it’s really important for the point I’m trying to make. The blind man shouts. He calls Jesus “the son of David” (v. 38). Remember, the disciples, whose sight was not physically impaired, couldn’t “see” what Jesus was saying. And then moments later, a man whose sight is physically impaired not only properly identifies Jesus, but also discerns his Jerusalem-bound mission (which his disciples could not). This is good news for us, because it strongly suggests that you don’t need functioning eyeballs to see Jesus for who he is, or to understand how he works in the world.
Jesus heals the beggar of his blindness. Some have taken this to mean that Jesus sometimes heals people of their disability. They’re not wrong, but that’s not what this miracle is about. The blind man is granted his sight as a proof and vindication of the spiritual sight he already had.
Let’s keep reading.
The next story is about another man who can’t see. This time not because his eyes fail him, but because he’s short. Zacchaeus can’t see because there’s a crowd and he’s too small to peer over them. Luke draws attention specifically to Zacchaeus’ desire to see Jesus. It’s not enough for him that he knows Jesus is there, he wants to lay eyes on him. That’s why Zacchaeus climbs a sycamore tree—to see Jesus (19:4). Luke is careful to note that Jesus also sees him up in the tree, which gives him the opportunity to invite himself over. As with the blind man, Zacchaeus’ inability to see Jesus because of the smallness of his stature and his subsequent sight of the Lord is also a spiritual lesson in how to see Jesus: It’s possible to transcend our natural limitations and see God face to face.
Again, let’s keeps reading.
When Jesus is about to enter Jerusalem at the end of chapter 19, he weeps over the city. Why? Because he wishes that they could see him for who he is, but, he says, these things “are hidden from their eyes” (v. 42). Jerusalem, like the disciples who couldn’t see what Jesus was talking about, can’t really see what’s going on right in front of their faces.
You can’t reduce these stories to a single principle. There’s also no 1-2-3-step method for beholding our Lord. But one thing that clearly emerges is that fully functioning eyes, height, and the removal of physical obstructions by no means guarantees the ability to see Jesus, his work in the world, and how he goes about accomplishing his ends. Quite the opposite. It seems that those who have some physical limitation to seeing as we normally understand it are frequently more likely to see the divine.
I think we can all admit that we each have varying degrees of blindness. If we don’t now, we will when we’re old. Some of us are shorter than others. None of us are tall enough to see over every crowd. But none of that matters. I find that encouraging, and I hope you do too.
So how can you see God?
Wait for him to pass by,
Shout!
And close your eyes like you’re blind.
Follow the crowd,
Climb a tree,
Wait for him to pass by,
And he’ll see you.
He’s been waiting to meet your eyes.
The apparent contradiction about Moses seeing God has always confused me, but the way you've explained it here makes so much sense! Thanks for sharing on this topic!
Excellent! love this.