It was 1968, and I was in fifth grade social studies class. “Mrs. H” had us watching a national news story on civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. This happened shortly before King was assassinated, and I happened to be the only African-American kid in that class.
We watched blacks in the South boycotting buses, refusing to comply with Jim Crow requests, and enduring fire hoses and biting police dogs. When the broadcast ended, Mrs. H looked up and saw a quiet, confused group of kids who didn’t know what to think. Then, she stared at me, filing her fingernails for what seemed like 10 years but in reality was probably 10 seconds.
She had such a frown on her face. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking and I felt vulnerable and very uncomfortable. Then, she said it: “Ronald Brown, what do you think of this stuff with Martin Luther King?” It wasn’t her question that bothered me the most, but her sarcasm. As soon as she asked the question, she dropped her eyes from me and went back to filing her nails.
But she was still expecting an answer.
I wish I could say I was a brave little kid who held my head high and told Mrs. H and that classroom what I really thought. But I was a kid. I was scared to death. The entire classroom turned and stared at me. In my panic, it felt like I was swallowing my tongue. Nothing would come out. I kept turning my eyes away from the same classmates I normally joked with, played ball with, flirted with. But in that moment they were scary monsters. I kept bringing my eyes to Mrs. H, hoping that somehow she’d show an ounce of compassion and relieve me of the torture. But she never looked at me again. She just kept filing those nails, while a speechless little black boy panicked and shook like a leaf in the crosswind.
Since that time, I’ve always been intrigued with stares. In sports and in life, stares are often used to intentionally intimidate others. Jesus was even involved in a stare that has since become famous.
“And the Lord (Jesus) turned and looked (stared) at Peter. And Peter remembered the saying of the Lord, how he had said to him, “Before the rooster crows today, you will deny me three times.” - Luke 22:61 (ESV)
We know the story. At the Last Supper, Peter bragged that he would follow Jesus to the end, no matter the danger. But Jesus told him he wasn’t ready yet. Peter stubbornly and proudly disagreed with Jesus, and when Peter did fail miserably and deny Him three times in the face of danger, the rooster crowed. Jesus, in the middle of being falsely accused and abused, stared at Peter.
Perhaps Peter felt Jesus’ stare was one of condemnation, an “I told you so” stare. Both you and I know the insecurity that comes from stares after we’ve messed up, even when we vowed to do the right thing. The next verse, Luke 22:62, says Peter wept bitterly and ran away—in his mind—defeated.
Stares can be scary, whether you’ve blown it like Peter or you’re an insecure kid like I was in 1968. It all depends on who and what the stare is all about.
Was Jesus’ stare at Peter a condemning one? No, of course not. How do we know? Because John 21 explains how Jesus, after His resurrection, came seeking Peter to restore his call to confidently lead the church even though it would eventually cost him his life. That meeting between Jesus and Peter was a catalyst for tremendous intimacy and courage for Peter, which we witness in the Book of Acts. The stare that Peter received, in the midst of his sin, was actually one of unconditional love and grace.
After understanding what was behind Jesus’ stare, Peter could genuinely stare right back at the people who opposed his faith. But his stare wasn’t one of vengeance, pride or intimidation. Instead, it was out of love and a “holy swag.” Peter was overflowing with the love of Jesus, and he had plenty of love leftover to share with even hostile unbelievers.
Later, in Acts 7, while being stoned to death, Stephen stared into Heaven and saw Jesus standing at the right hand of the Father. Yes, the stare of love!
As we continue through Acts, Paul was one of those hostile unbelievers persecuting Christians, but he, too, received the stare of love from Jesus in the depths of his sin. That encounter made him a new man, loaded with love for the lost. In Acts 23:1, while facing false accusations, Paul stared into the eyes of the city council that wanted him killed. There was a “holy swag” in that stare, but more than anything Paul yearned for that council—and all his accusers—to know the love of Jesus.
I’m no longer that scared little fifth-grader. My dad could see I was hurting when I went home that night and, eventually, I spilled the beans on what had happened. Dad went to see Mrs. H and while I don’t know exactly what transpired, I do know Mrs. H never disrespected me again.
My dad took care of business for his scared kid. God promises to take care of His frightened children, too. Those of us who have received that incredible stare of love from Jesus—in the midst of our sin—no longer need to be afraid. We can stare into the eyes of this world’s opposition with a confident “holy swag,” a stare of love that only Jesus can produce in us.
–This article appears in the November/December 2014 issue of FCA Magazine. To view the issue in its entirety digitally, click here: Nov/Dec 2014 FCA Mag Digital
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