To see as we are seen

 For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:12-13)

A magnificent nothing happened the other day. Only one other person noticed as far as I could tell, and I don’t know what he thought of it. We never spoke.

I first saw him as he hobbled to a chair across the aisle of the coffee shop, dropped his cane and plopped down, his thin white hair combed across the pink of his scalp. A faded blue shirt tucked loosely into his jeans, he settled in and read from his phone.

Returning to my book, I furtively glanced up from time to time, wanting to watch him for no reason I recognized. Once, our eyes met, and we quickly looked away, settling into our respective solitude.

But then something happened for which I have no reasonable explanation, only the intuition that faith provides. A flood of emotion surprised me. It came out of nowhere, a deep measure of love and respect for this stranger who for some reason wasn’t a stranger at all.

There was not an ounce of sympathy or compassion in the warm affection flooding my heart, and certainly no pity. I didn’t feel sorry for him. But an overwhelming warmth rose undeniably from the unsearchable depths of my soul. A love far beyond my own surged and filled my being with loving respect for the soul sitting across from me. It came of its own accord, unbidden by any desire, prayer or wish on my part.

For a moment, I saw the way we are seen, knowing as God knows us, my heart silently embracing and treasuring the mystery of the stranger for who he is, where he’d been, the life he’d lived, the struggles he’d suffered, the journey that brought him to this place on a cloudy March day to order a cup of coffee.

But maybe I make too much of the moment. Maybe it was just two 70-something men exchanging a glance, silently recognizing the decades of wear reflected in our faces. Maybe it is explainable as a simple acknowledgment of our shared humanity.

But even this is a grace, one too little found amid these days of malignant distrust and bitter politics when human souls are considered expendable.

I cannot dismiss what flooded through me or explain it away as the emotional quirk of my eccentric soul. There was … and is … something more.

For a moment, no, for more than a moment, I saw and felt him embraced by the Love who embraces both of us … and everything else, the Mystery who for some sweet reason chooses to dwell in the unsearchable depths of our being, ready to surprise us when we aren’t looking.

My coffee companion didn’t stay long. Picking up his coffee cup, keys and phone, he leaned on his cane and shuffled toward the door, dragging his bum right leg.

I looked up from my book and smiled. We exchanged a nod. His was clear, firm and respectful, a moment of mutual care, knowing ... we'd been seen.