By Steven Norris
To witness a miracle can change your life. Getting up close and personal with Divine power has a way of re-organizing your priorities and humbling even the loftiest ego. Sometimes, however, miracles show up in the most overlooked places.
Not too long ago, I had the privilege of sitting with a friend who was dying. The eternal spark of life still twinkled in his eye, though his body was failing. As I sat in his living room, I could not help but look at his hands—wrinkled hands. Arthritic hands. Hands that knew what it was like to be folded in prayer. Fingers that had leafed through the Bible more times than I can count. Gentle hands that had rested on the back of those needing comfort. Calloused hands that knew about work. Compassionate hands that had dried tears, broken bread, and washed feet.
Lines emanated from the corners of his eyes where a lifetime of joy and smiles now left footprints. Vertical creases between his eyebrows gave witness to seriousness of thought and earnestness of presence. Spots on his cheeks let me know that he was not immune to Mother Nature’s kiss—having worked and walked in the blistering sun This, too, was a miracle for those with eyes to see.
In his classic work, The Weight of Glory, C.S. Lewis observes, “There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.”
How different would our relationships look if we approached each person in that way? What miracles might we notice?
Gerard Manley Hopkins captures this truth so eloquently in his poem, “When Kingfishers Catch Fire.” He observes, “Christ plays in ten thousand places, / Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his / To the Father through the features of men’s faces.”
Jesus said something similar when he taught, “I was hungry and you gave me something to eat…thirsty and you gave me something to drink…a stranger and you invited me in…as you’ve done it to the least of these, you’ve done it to me” (Matthew 25:35-40). If we are paying attention, Jesus himself may show up in the places we least expect him and reveal to us truths we would otherwise pass right by.
This week, as we gather around Thanksgiving tables with family, friends, or strangers, let us pay attention to those around us. May we pause long enough to notice the little details and eccentricities that testify to the imago dei, the image of God present in each one of us—even Grandma Sally who cannot hold back on making political comments, Uncle Eddy who doesn’t know when to cork the wine, or Cousin Sam whose immaturity grates on our last nerve. There are no ordinary people. Each one is a miracle and an icon revealing a new way to see the face of Christ.