Catholic/saintly look

[chevalier]

I wonder if any of you have noticed something I’ve been pondering last night - the kind of Catholic or saintly glance or gaze (as it’s both in the expression and in the act of looking) that you would most often, most instinctly associate with statues of Mary, but is sometimes seen in live persons. It has a very strong Catholic association for me, although perhaps you could see it in some non-Catholic Christians (apostolic churches would be the natural candidates, I guess).

It is hard to describe, but I mean a certain glance which looks with love and is marked with suffering. One that looks also where normally eyes do not look, in a certain way recognising that there is the visible and the invisible (…visibilium omnium et invisibilium…), which makes you a better person for just resting on you and which tries to tell you something, which goes through you and meeting it is always a great experience. It is quite intense, you could perhaps call it an intense stare, although it is not intrusive. I would not say it’s a glance of a person who is out of his or her time, but it has a certain extratemporal thing. There seems to be some kind of relation to the eternity.

I wonder if in living people, not saints, the gaze would be a sign of how faith affects the way people look at the world, or would it be a reflection of how a person strives to live in the state of grace (especially if the person is in it… in a certain way that’s a bit like being a saint since the person would be saved if he or she were to die), although I’m not sure I’m following the right track. Anyway, have you noticed anything like this, wondered about it? Maybe you remember it from certain statues of saints or maybe certain people you’ve known?

 

[TOP]

I had a chaplain from the 29th I. D. look at me like this when we were discussing my medical discharge from the service. I was upset that I wasn’t able to complete my training and go to Iraq with my unit. He looked right through me and said “you know why you got sick don’t you… because you would have come back in a bag”. I was shocked to the core that a military chaplain would say that. But he had a look that told me he was speaking the truth. It was like a father /son conversation. I had just by chance bumped into him at the hospital. Tim

 

[stbruno]

The only time, I could say I have seem something ethereal in another is when people are dying.

IAs a nurse, I see this more regularly than others and not everyone shares it. It’s a stage of the dying process, where people actually look heavenward or to some unseen object or person in the room with them…and they look truly at peace. Not afraid, not disturbed but peaceful.

Many times, they will admit that they hear music or beautiful singing or even a loved one nearby.

It may not seem to be strictly a “Catholic” look, but rather a look like someone who has one foot already in heaven literally. I hope I will share that one day myself.

 

[Joysong]

I wonder if any of you have noticed something I’ve been pondering last night - the kind of Catholic or saintly glance or gaze (as it’s both in the expression and in the act of looking) that you would most often, most instinctly associate with statues of Mary, but is sometimes seen in live persons.

Funny, but I read this yesterday and thought about it, but did not feel moved to reply at that moment. Today at mass, the gospel words from Luke Lk. 9:29 jumped out at me as I heard them: Jesus took Peter, John, and James and went up the mountain to pray. While he was praying his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white.

I remembered one graced moment where God permitted me to witness the face of a priest whose face was so transfigured that it caused me to bow interiorly with profound reverence, realizing that I was privileged to gaze upon a most sacred encounter of this priest with God. It was not at mass, but in the church for some reason I cannot remember, but nevertheless, I will never forget it. Remember, too, that Moses was so full of exultation after his meeting with God that he had to veil his face. It is so special that one cannot describe it, and so rare that one is specially gifted to be able to see it.

I hope you know that I am not talking about a radiant happy face, as many of us have seen, but when you see one like this, you “know that you know!” For a sculptor and/or painter to depict this in a statue is not very likely, though there are certainly many noble and beautiful ones in our churches.

You mentioned a look that seemed marked with suffering as well as love, but that is not what I observed at all. Nor as I heard today’s gospel did I picture Jesus’s face in that manner, but rather full of glory as I saw in that priest.

 

[Anne1964]

The only time, I could say I have seem something ethereal in another is when people are dying.

IAs a nurse, I see this more regularly than others and not everyone shares it. It’s a stage of the dying process, where people actually look heavenward or to some unseen object or person in the room with them…and they look truly at peace. Not afraid, not disturbed but peaceful.

Many times, they will admit that they hear music or beautiful singing or even a loved one nearby.

My aunt is dying of pancreatic cancer and we have been told to expect her death very soon. I have been sitting with her every night for the past two weeks. The hardest thing for me has been how sad her eyes look. She refuses to discuss dying with anyone and has often looked frightened over the past few weeks. Last night was different, though. Her eyes were open, but they had a faraway look to them and she looked more peaceful, almost like she was smiling. This morning she told my mother she heard “church music” and wanted to know where it was coming from.

 

[JimR-OCDS]

My aunt is dying of pancreatic cancer and we have been told to expect her death very soon. I have been sitting with her every night for the past two weeks. The hardest thing for me has been how sad her eyes look. She refuses to discuss dying with anyone and has often looked frightened over the past few weeks. Last night was different, though. Her eyes were open, but they had a faraway look to them and she looked more peaceful, almost like she was smiling. This morning she told my mother she heard “church music” and wanted to know where it was coming from.

Anne, sorry to hear about your aunt, may God bless her, and you and your family.

I was once a hospice volunteer. I had to go through a training program first, but one of the things that I came to learn is that, dying is a learning process for us human beings. We go through our own garden of Gethsemane, prior to our acceptance of our fate. Then, we go through the process of the physical part of our bodies breaking down, but more so, looking for our opportunity to move on to be with the Lord.

Prayer is comforting for a dying person to hear, even when you think they can’t hear you. This is known from those who manage to recover for a shot time, prior to passing on.

If you can, get your aunt into a hospice program. It will benefit you and everyone around her.

God Bless
Jim

 

[stbruno]

Dear Anne
I will keep you and your aunt in my prayers this evening. Peace be with you! Just know this…say the Hail Mary…now and at the hour of our death. Amen…

Hospice is amazing! A worthy resource to tap into to help your whole family through the dying process.

 

[Kevin42]

I have noticed this too, and it does seem to especially acompany Marian images. The gaze looks like it is filled with immense love like you said, but also pain. I think Mary looks this way, because while she loves us and intercedes for us, whenever we sin, we cause her extreme pain because we crucify her son.

 

[Anne1964]

If you can, get your aunt into a hospice program. It will benefit you and everyone around her.

God Bless
Jim

My aunt has been in the hospice program for three weeks now, and yes, they are wonderful people.

Thanks for your prayers.

 

[puzzleannie]

I don’t know if I share the same understanding as OP and other posters of what you are talking about. One writer talks about “the fellowship of those who bear the mark of pain” in terms of a “look” they have. A popular theme in children’s novels of the 19th century was the patience, long-suffering and what Catholics would call redemptive suffering of the sick and disabled (What Katy Did, Little Women, Jack and Jill, Little House books about Mary’s blindness are examples), so there obviously is some Protestant as well as Catholic sensibility to the idea that physical suffering if accepted with resignation and submission to God’s will can lead to spiritual growth for the individual and be a positive influence on those around them).