JCK-at-large SITE

Putting on a mask this Hallowe’en may be the last thing anyone wants to do.  Time was, you could happily assume a new identity for one night of trick or treating just by masking up!   For one magic evening, you assumed a whole new persona!  My favourite mask was Captain Kidd’s, that glowering pirate with a patch over one eye.  Add a red bandana, Captain Kidd and I must have struck great fear into our Ottawa neighbourhood — for we trundled off to our hideout with bags and bags of loot, the sweet and sticky candies of Hallowe’en!

A visitor arrived at one door with a stone-faced, implacable mask, stern and stark white — while he was completely draped in black.

“And who might you be,?” asked the smiling lady of the house.  

“I’m from the IRS and I want 38% of your candies.”

But who would blame our would-be Captain Kidd ‘this’ Hallowe’en, if he eschewed all masks and simply celebrated an unmasked Hallowe’en?  Indeed, a long tradition would be broken.  But in this virus-weary season of ours, the entire world must be heartily sick of masks.  “No Mask, No Entry.”  It’s the sign over most every door.  And most everyone lives under the rule of the statistics: to reduce transmission of the Coronavirus, and bring the pandemic to heel, masks remain an undeniable part of the process. 

Still, most of us long for the great unmasking, which surely cannot be too far away, with the virus in full retreat and masks no more!  When a smile can be read by more than the eyes.  When transparency and unhindered communication resume their rightful place.  

Maybe our underlying dislike of the mask is that for almost ever, it has been worn by the bad guys: bank robbers, arsonists — all the motley crew who hatch their evil plans overnight, then don a mask next day to carry them out.  My earliest entertainment was peopled with masked “varmints” who hijacked stagecoaches and rode off into the hills on their galloping horses — only to be lassoed by our great unmasked defenders of law and order, Gene Autry and Roy Rogers.  The only variation on that theme was when the Lone Ranger himself donned a mask as he thundered off to arrest the robbers shouting, “Hi-ho Silver, Away!”

Yet I wonder if the real reason we are tired of masks and want to abandon them is that we just cherish face to face encounters.  “Look at that face, just look at it, look at that wonderful face of yours,” says the song.  This is the moment of falling in love!  “I knew first look I took at it, this was the face that the world adores.”  The song captures one of life’s finest moments — and it’s all about the unmasked face!

Indeed, there is a beautiful transparency in face to face encounters.  How disarming is a smile!  How inviting a warm expression!  How much value we place on the mood that we read in a face!   Can you imagine Phoebe Pyncheon walking into the House of Seven Gables with a mask? 

“She gazed through the dusty side-lights of the portal at the young, blooming and very cheerful face which presented itself for admittance into the gloomy old mansion.  It was a face to which almost any door would have opened of its own accord.”

Another song puts the same magic to music:

“The first time ever I saw your face

I thought the sun rose in your eyes…” 

Even Scripture celebrates the unmasked face.  “And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another” (II Cor 3:18).  This is the open face of beatific contemplation, no doubt the highest moment afforded to our mortal frame.  We speak of “seeking the face of the Lord” in prayer, and drawing aside the veils of life to behold him more clearly. As the prayer of St. Francis puts it, “to see Thee more clearly, love thee more dearly, follow thee more nearly day by day.”  Miracles happen in such exalted seasons.  The familiar hymn carries the promise with its invitation:   

“Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in his wonderful face

And the things of earth will grow strangely dim in the light of his glory and grace.”

Yes, the open face of contemplation, which says to God, “No hidden agenda here… I just want to know You better” —  what a promise is held out to those who “seek the Lord” in this time-honoured way: “we are changed into the same image, from one degree of glory to the next!” 

“Seek my face,” says the Lord to the psalmist.  He responds, as should we all: “Your face, Lord, will I seek.”