“See me, feel me, touch me, heal me”
The Who, from the Rock Opera, Tommy
Jesus himself stood among the disciples and said to them, “…See that it is I myself. Touch me and see…”. Luke 24:39
When I read the Gospel lesson appointed for tomorrow, about Jesus pleading with his friends, “See that it is I myself. Touch me and see,” I first thought about Thomas Merton’s famous epiphany in 1958 at the corner of Fourth and Walnut in Louisville, how Merton was suddenly overwhelmed and saw everyone around him in a new way. “Suddenly,” Merton remembered, “I realized that I loved all of those people.”
It was a magical moment, an epiphany that allowed Merton to see “the secret beauty of their hearts, the core of their reality, the person that each one is in God’s eyes.”
This is the beautiful Divine Indwelling that is your true life, your essential self. And no matter what you have done or left undone, Merton wrote, there is a place within you that is “untouched by your sin.” From this place within, the Divine is regulating your life, always forgiving and always loving us into our true selves.
Pervasive anxiety and depression suggest that most of us find this unbelievable. Merton knew we would feel that way. “If only we could see ourselves this way,” Merton wrote. “If only we could see each other this way. There would be no more war, no more cruelty, no more hatred or greed…. The big problem would be that we would fall down and worship each other.”
If only we could see this essential, beautiful truth about ourselves and each other.
This Gospel lesson also has me thinking about a former parishioner of mine who was widely regarded as one of the best hairdressers in Charlotte, NC. If you were not already a client of his, you just had to put your name on a waiting list, a long one. And the odds weren’t good.
One day in my office, I asked my friend to describe his routine at work.
When a woman first sits down in his chair, my friend told me, he routinely turns the chair so that she can see herself in the mirror, while he stands behind her and places his hands on her shoulders.
Then, as he gently massages her shoulders, he asks her how she is, how she has been getting along since they saw each other last, and he almost always tells her how beautiful she is. He asks how she has been getting along, because he sincerely wants to know; and he tells each one how beautiful she is, because that’s what he sees, and he knows they often do not see that beauty themselves.
My friend says that these women come in way too often to get their hair done.
But my friend is convinced that their time with him in the salon is one of the few times these women are touched affectionately – without sexual motive – while they hear someone sincerely asking them how they are doing. And my friend always tells these women how beautiful they are. I used to hear him doing that in church after a service. It’s sincere. He sees them, sees who they really are, and he lets them know that what he sees is beautiful.
In the words of Thomas Merton, my friend sees “the secret beauty of their hearts,” which Merton said made it seem that people are “shining like the sun.” And also like Merton, my friend has come to realize just how much he loves every one of his clients.
“See that it is I,” Jesus pleads, “Touch me and see!” Isn’t Jesus’s pleading the secret pleading of all our hearts?
My friend and former parishioner is called a beautician. He is an expert in beauty. He once asked me about becoming a therapist or a priest, and I told him I didn’t think he needed to do that, because he was already both therapist and priest. Every day, all day long, he is responding to the Christ that is in each person, the soul or true self in every human being that longs to be seen, touched, and healed.
As the title of this post suggests, it doesn’t surprise me one bit that many interpreted Pete Townshend’s song , “See me, feel me,” as an illustration of the Gospel lesson for tomorrow – Jesus’ longing is our longing: “See me, feel me, touch me, heal me.” This is something God has given us the power to do for each other. But what we cannot see or know about ourselves we cannot see or know in each other.
Surely this is one reason Thomas Merton reflected, “If only people could see themselves as God sees them. If only we could see each other this way. Then there would be no more war, cruelty, hatred or greed. The big problem would be that we would fall down and worship each other.”[1] I don’t think we’re in danger of that right now.
St. Paul realized that mortals are destined to see divine things only partially, “as in a glass darkly” or “as in a mirror dimly.” (1 Cor 13:12) So, wanting to fall down and worship each other all the time is probably not in the cards. But if contemplative practice can open our spiritual faculties even a little….
As Bartimaeus said to Jesus, “Teacher, let me see again.”
[1] At times in this post, I paraphrase Merton’s passage from Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander, but you can read what he much of what he wrote in this passage here.
Gary, Once again I am blessed by your writing. Having had you as my priest, I know that this is how you see others. Thank you for sharing your gifts in such a relatable way.