What does it mean to “see” God?
When we see something, our brains instantly make tens of thousands of connections to prior knowledge, context, and experiences. Research shows that the human brain processes an image of another person in as little as 10 milliseconds, and by 100 milliseconds we’ve already internalized a judgment about who they are based upon their appearance alone.
But how many times have our snap judgments about someone been wrong? To see someone—really see and understand them—requires unearthing those experiences that truly make up a person: the pains, fears, insecurities, hopes, strengths, and quiet yearnings.
As the shepherds and magi first approached the manger, what did they see? As they prepared their eyes to finally behold their Savior, maybe they were filled with fear. The words of the Torah (the Hebrew Scriptures) were likely ringing in their ears: “no one may see [God] and live” (Exodus 33:20 NLT). Or maybe they didn’t fully comprehend what they were anticipating, like a child who knows something exciting is about to happen but doesn’t have the context to know what exactly to expect.
We can only know what the Gospel writers tell us. Luke says after the shepherds had seen Jesus, they glorified God and shared the news with all who would hear it. Matthew says the magi bowed down, worshipped, and presented treasures to Him. Whatever their eyes beheld, they saw Jesus rightly—as one deserving of absolute awe and honor.
In John 1:18, there is a unique word that only occurs five other times in the New Testament, exégeomai, which means to fully explain or unfold. This is where the English word “exegesis” comes from. According to John, Jesus is the exegesis of the Father: the One who fully explains, fully unfolds, and fully makes known to us the infinite glory of the unseeable God.
The season of Advent urges and invites us into a holy expectation—the expectation that we, too, might be able to see God. There are so many things we waste our vision on in this life, but Advent reminds us there is One worth seeing for eternity. It was Aquinas who wrote that the beholding of God in all His glory is the final end of humanity, the great finish line we all journey toward.
In these days of waiting and expectation, may we learn to set aside distractions and not waste our vision. May we be willing, however jarring, to let Him shatter our contexts so we can see Him rightly. May we release our preconceived notions and “snap judgements,” asking God to help us really see Him. May we see Him in the life of Jesus, in the truth of His Word, in the splendor of the night’s sky He created for us to enjoy, or in the face of a stranger made in His image. Seeing God is peering into an all-consuming beauty that envelops and ultimately transforms us. May we set our eyes to expect such a vision in the days ahead.
