Christ of the Fiery Eye and Some Prayer Starters

 

I stumbled upon this 18th-19th century icon recently and felt drawn to it immediately because Jesus is a little tilted. Has he stopped along the way, seeing me in the crowd? His eyes are bright; he seems to be smiling. He understands. His head is large because it's filled with us and with heavenly ideas. His hair reminds me of nature's lines and folds — a palm frond, tree rings, the underside of a mushroom, a tilled field, a striated rock, the ripples of water. The icon is called, Christ of the Fiery Eye. 

Here are some possible Prayer-Starters as we sit or stand before this icon which seems to invite contemplation (seeing beyond or beneath the outer thing.)

Jesus,

you have revealed yourself as

light of the world.

Would you shine brightly

into the life of 

_____________

who seems to be 

bumping around in darkness these days.

Jesus,

you welcomed,

gathered and blessed the little children.

Bless ___________________

the youngest member of my family.

Bless all the children of 

______________.

Jesus,

 you didn't give  material gifts to people —

money or possessions,

but the gift of your presence.

_________________

needs to feel your presence today.

Jesus,

your fiery eye is not a scary eye,

not a suspicious

nor evil eye,

but an all-seeing eye.

Look deeply within

 where I've got a lot on my mind.

Look into my heart where I am feeling

_____________so deeply. 

Jesus,

you provided an abundance of wine

for the wedding guests at Cana,

and bread and fish for the

crowds in the wilderness.

Thank you for the abundance of my life,

especially the abundance which fills my heart.

________________________

Jesus,

joy was restored to the family

 in the room where you 

raised up the little girl to life.

Thank you for the joy I feel

in my own life,

especially the joy of

________________.

 

I expect when Jesus said, "Judge not," he meant it.

 

"Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you; good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For the measure you give will be the measure you get back."  Luke 6:37-38

 

This icon is titled: Christ, Ruler of All. Jesus blesses us with his right hand while holding the open Gospel book in his left. The message is simple, "Come to me all you who labor." Matthew 11:28. We might think of "labor" as the tedious work, maybe the thankless, underpaid work, we all have to do everyday. The job I go to. But I would suggest, perhaps the real "labor" is the spiritual labor of forgiving other people and in the gospel verse above, the gospel labor of not judging people. It is very hard, isn't it? But there it is. We might begin by first acknowledging (if we're honest) just how much negative judging, evaluating and assessing we do. 

We're in this very difficult time — the long, ugly and now post election season, and the terrible division we find ourselves in, coronavirus crisis increase, everything seemingly in a shambles, the holidays (and life!) on hold. And in the midst of all of that, Jesus comes along with this instruction and expectation, "Stop judging."  I imagine Jesus wants us to live in the awareness that judging is God's business. Judging and condemning crack open the door to violence. Condemning means essentially, "We can do very well without you." If I feel the need to judge anything, I might turn that spotlight on myself. 

Imagining this: Pray for Donald Trump. Pray for Joe Biden. Pray for Theodore McCarrick. Pray for the millions of people who didn't vote my way. Pray for the enormous number of people who simply refuse to wear a mask—while the virus spreads like wildfire. Pray for the troublemakers. Pray for anyone who I consider to be a royal pain in the neck or worse. We get the picture. "Jesus, give them all they need for their salvation." Very difficult—perhaps so much so, I don't want to hear what Jesus has to say. "Just this once, Jesus. Allow me this exception, Jesus."

I imagine when Jesus gave this direction, he meant it — as much as he meant it when he said over the bread and the wine, "This is my body; this is my blood." 

But notice this—in the icon, the light from Jesus' face (the nimbus/halo) has broken through the interior frame. Could this symbolize the promise that accompanies Jesus' "no judging; no condemning" bit: "good measure, overflowing will pour into your lap." Maybe that's the guarantee of divine assistance we're going to need, if we're to live successfully this requirement placed upon the disciple.

Christ, All-Seeing

This is a wonderful photograph. The immense icon is likely placed in a vast church so worshippers are able to inter-face with Christ even from way back. But this little girl of about five or six, has placed herself directly under the gaze of Jesus. She is fascinated, isn't she?

The eyes of Christ are wide-opened and seeing. His brow is furrowed, knowing and sharing our conditions and situations. Even the metal halo, the light from his face, reaches out towards us, a kind of umbrella. 

An important note: In studying for last Sunday's Gospel (Mark 6:30-34) Jesus had pity on the crowds. He knew their longing and inner hunger. "Pity" doesn't mean he felt sorry for them, but that he felt the gut-pain a parent feels when the child is anguished, in need or trouble.

Lord Jesus, in affection,
you see us in our littleness,
vulnerability,
aloneness and 
searching.

Lord Jesus, in pity,
you know us in the collapse of our best resolve,
our regrets,
wrong turns,
old hurts and
mistakes.

Lord Jesus, in compassion,
you are awake to our pain,
our sorrowing,
our seeming inability to quit wars,
fighting and
argument.

Through your icon eyes,
heal us,
and our nation,
of hatred,
bitterness,
un-forgiveness and 
gloom.