A scene setter. You’re out in the cold night fields, keeping close watch over your flock. And suddenly this light is shining at you and all around you. From out of this radiance a voice of an angel sings out news about the infant in swaddling clothes lying in a manger. All the other angels then join in with their Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom God’s favor rests.  And you get up and move into the night toward Bethlehem.

Things to note in that scene, especially about yourself.

Those angelic visitors. Might they be the the circumstances and people who over the past year who shone a light into some of your darkness, who in one way or other brought good news, healing news?  You might recognize them in things like:

• The wise advice someone gave. Words which opened up a door that had been shut to you before.
• The support from a friend. Some gentle uplift you got from the awareness that there was this person who was truly on your side, was standing by you in and out of season.
• Some line from Scripture. A verse or scene or story that came off the page in a surprising way and brought with it some new glimpse of that shining glory of God all around you.
• Some old song you knew but had never really heard before. Its lyrics and melody broke through to wake up some inner spot that had been sleeping.
• Some news story that haunted your soul and heart.
• Some person you helped and who then looked back at you with a heart brimming with gratitude.

Could these and things like them have been your “angelic visitors” over the year?

There’s one particular visitor I’d hold up, one that’s suggested by the instruction which the Lord gives to Moses about how he is to bless the Israelites.

 “Say this to them. The Lord bless and keep you. The Lord let his face shine upon you and be gracious to you. The Lord look upon you kindly.”

The angel I’m referring to here is the one inside the experience of having someone’s eyes “look upon you kindly, shine upon you and be gracious to you.”

I’m thinking in particular of the different times in your life of prayer when in one way or other you’ve seen that face, felt that all accepting gaze coming softly upon you?

It’s not unlike the welcome-home scene Paul sets out in so many of his letters. One night you’re a servant, a slave, living downstairs with no hope of ever being upstairs with the family, never imagining sitting around the tree with them on a Christmas morning. You address the master of the house as “my Lord.” Then, one life changing (life giving) day you’re taken in, “adopted” as a son or daughter, welcomed into the tight familial circle. Up from your heart rises this spontaneous name when the Master walks in. Instead of “Lord” you say “Dad (or Mom), Abba.” And all the faces in the room are looking upon you — kindly.

Has that sometimes happened in prayer — when you’ve caught the impulse rising from deep within your heart to “cry out, Abba, Father?” In that moment, you knew you were no longer a slave off at a distance but an included son or daughter who is now “shined upon graciously.”

Prayer experiences like these are a visits from the angels. You sense the closeness of God, you feel the face shining upon you and being gracious to you and looking upon you kindly.

I end with still another scene of a grace-filled “looking,” this one painted in words by Joyce Rupp in one of her recent books (Fragments of Your Ancient Name, 2011, Sorin Books). It portrays the first time Jesus and Mary locked eyes onto one another, or as the song goes, “the first time ever I saw your face.”

Son of Mary

That first look into your mother’s eyes,

The love you beheld looking back at you.

Were you both enthralled with each other?

Her young arms that cradled you safely

Would embrace you again at your death,

But this painful part of your life was hidden

As you rested in her complete attention.

Son of Mary, child of a pure-hearted mother,

You are with me from birth through death,

Holding me the way your mother held you.

Visits from an angel. Moments of consolation in prayer. The Lord’s face shining upon us and being gracious to us. Vincent gazing into the face of Christ in the person who is poor. The person’s face, with The Lord’s,  shining graciously back upon him — and us.