Jesus said, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” It was the last thing that Jesus said in last week’s gospel text. It’s interesting then that people place so much stock in seeing Jesus.

The desire is so compelling that people venerate the most unlikely of messianic appearances. With great devotion a family harbored for many years, in a small home chapel, a tortilla imprinted with the face of Jesus. Perhaps it’s still there. In 2017 a more profit-oriented person listed a piece of buttered toast bearing the likeness of Jesus on eBay for $25,000.

So it’s worth noting that when Jesus showed up right after the resurrection, it wasn’t on some form of carbohydrate. In fact, there was no visible form of Jesus to speak of. And even when people were in his presence, they were not able by appearance to identify Jesus.

In Acts a man named Saul wasn’t even looking for Jesus when he received a visitation. Saul was looking for Christian people. He was doing so with the kind of energy that suggests that he marked them as Christian first, and people second.

He was on his own personal mission to get rid of people whose ideas, dreams, and actual physical presence he wanted gone. To the credit of the high priest, Saul apparently didn’t get the backing he wanted from local religious leaders. So he was operating outside the zone of any recognized spiritual authority. But that didn’t stop him from proceeding as a self-appointed spiritual bounty hunter.

Next thing he knew, Saul was in the midst of an irresistible encounter with the cosmic Christ. No toast or tortillas with images were involved. Saul didn’t see any face at all.

He heard a voice. “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” His reply “Who are you Lord?” shows his confusion about which of his victims might be speaking. And also Saul’s awareness that he’d better show a bit of respect because this situation was clearly not under his control.

This small opening was enough for the Spirit of Jesus to sneak through Saul’s defenses. The blindness that descended on Saul was gift, not punishment. Because when you no longer count on your eyes for seeing things you experience different ways of knowing and understanding.

And so it was that Saul went from denial and defamation to acceptance, affirmation, and proclamation. From hardened opponent to God’s public defender. It puts one in mind of Jesus saying that if you try to silence any witness to God, “…even the stones will cry out.”

Today’s text from Revelation is about a vision too. In apocalyptic language borrowed from the prophet Daniel, John hears, “Worthy is the Lamb that was slaughtered / to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might / and honor and glory and blessing!”

The message is cloaked in symbolic language because it was unsafe to say openly. This vision questioned assumptions about who is worthy of honor in the distribution of power and influence. Not those who earn, deserve, win, or steal such things. Only one who is magnificently disinterested in them. As was Jesus, the gentle one, sacrificed on the altar of human greed.

This was more than a commentary on society however. It was a cosmic celebration and affirmation of the emerging faith community. Particularly of its commitments to care for everyone in need. Not just those with whom they agreed, or of whom they approved.

Finally. Did you notice that in the gospel today, the disciples, Jesus’s closest friends completely failed to see him? Truly. The cosmic Christ was with them but they saw nothing remarkable or even familiar. What they got was a voice calling to them with instructions on better fishing practices, and an invitation to a hearty breakfast. Without toast or tortillas.

So much for seeing Jesus. And perhaps it was best that way. It restrained them from turning the day’s events into a privileged encounter. Instead it galvanized them into regarding Jesus as always present in some form, guiding and nourishing the community.

It moved them from retreat to renewed confidence. From failure and defeat into abundance and hope. From abandonment into renewed commitment.

And Peter took it on the chin for all of them that day. It was a gentle confrontation with the Spirit of Jesus, but tough in its own way. That whole exchange about love, and feeding sheep and lambs. A lot gets lost in translation.

The Greek language has multiple ways to talk about love. The dialogue between Jesus and Peter was all about clarifying how Peter and the other disciples regarded Jesus. And the service they would enact in his name.

Peter spoke in terms of phileo – like being a band of brothers. There for each other no matter what. In a defined kinship group. With all due limits and restrictions.

But Jesus wasn’t asking for that. He asked about agape. Which is commitment in community.

Jesus asked, “Peter do you love me?”  He meant, Peter, are we together in this? Because there’s unimaginable need out there. See all the tiny helpless lambs and lost hungry sheep?

It seems like Jesus isn’t so concerned about what we see, but about how we see. Discipleship is seeing and loving as Jesus sees and loves. Not as we wish to see and love. Or as others tell us to see and love.

And as for seeing Jesus, it is a matter of letting go of all your expectations and presumptions. Relinquishing Jesus toast and Jesus tortillas. And becoming open to unscripted encounters of the Godly kind.