God's Relentless Gaze

Christ’s face emerges from a shimmering gold background, his brow slightly furrowed, lips pressed in a quiet, knowing tension, one hand raised in blessing while the other clutches a bejeweled gospel book. His gaze holds us captive. One eye is stern, shadowed, and piercing; the other is softer, luminous—almost sorrowful. The sixth-century icon from St. Catherine’s Monastery in Egypt does not fully resolve into a single expression. Instead, it fractures into two: judgment and mercy, severity and compassion, divinity and humanity. Half his face regards the viewer with the unflinching gaze of a judge who sees all; the other side looks upon us with a quiet, aching tenderness, the face of one who knows our suffering. This dual gaze is unsettling. It asks, Who do you say that I am?

What does it mean to live under the gaze of God? For many, the idea of a “judging God” is unsettling, conjuring images of surveillance and punitive authority. Yet historically, divine judgment was intertwined with care, offering guidance, justice, and human flourishing rather than mere control. In this essay, which appears in the November 2025 issue of The Christian Century, I explore how our discomfort with divine judgment may reflect broader cultural shifts in how we perceive oversight. In a world shaped by secularized systems of surveillance—detached from relational and ethical roots—the gaze has become something to fear, a force of impersonal power rather than loving concern.

By comparing the relational gaze of the Pantocrator with modern anxieties around surveillance, we can better understand how divine oversight has been reframed in our imaginations. Can recovering the relational nature of God’s judgment help us rethink justice, care, and community in a fractured world? The Pantocrator’s piercing yet compassionate gaze offers a lens to confront this question.

Icon of Christ Pantocrator

6th Century