If I Were...

If I were there as a photographer, I would try to capture that scene from different angles. I would pay attention to the artistic quality of that shot, stabilising my camera on a tripod.  I would take hundreds of shots, especially the closeup ones that focus on his anguished look, before choosing the best few that would serve to evoke the strongest emotion or thought in my viewers. In the end, I am pleased with my shot, at its overall effects. I sure am good in photography. 

If I were there as a painter, I would set my mounted canvas on my easel, park myself in front of that scene on a stool, and having chosen the best angle that best captures the moment, I would begin my eventual masterpiece. In the end, I would attach a price to it and sell it for a good return. I sure am good at what I do. 

If I were there as a musician, I would bring along my keyboard and compose a morbid sounding melody that would evoke the guilt and depression of the onlookers and passersby. It would definitely be in the minor key. I might then alter the mood of the music into one that is brighter, changing the minor into a major key, and bring about a shift in the moods of the listeners, manipulating their experience with my music. I sure am good at using music to influence others. 

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It would be all too easy for us to approach the scene and do what we do best with whatever talents we may have. But what if the call is for us to approach this scene with a different identity? What if the call is for us to be there not as another passerby or bystander, indifferent or ignorant, but rather, as one for whom He hangs up there, as one whose sins have not caused Him to turn His back on us, as one whose eternal life has been purchased by His dying on that cross? 

Would our eyes still see the angles, the colours and the shapes of the clouds we need to replicate, the moods of the setting, or the notes that form a melody? Would our minds think of our viewers, our potential customers or our monetary returns, or perhaps, our listeners' responses? 

If not, then what would we see? What would we really begin to notice as we fix our eyes upon Him hanging there before us? What emotions would stir in our hearts if we were truly present there as humbled children of God, consistently being invited into that loving relationship with our Father, by our Father, who cannot ever bring Himself to give up on us? 

Do you see Him?
Do you truly see Him?