I love that thought. A whole world’s chatter dying away as Christ looks on. Some people are looking straight at him. Others are talking among themselves, and they get a poke from their neighbours, or they look up.
I don’t think Christ looks on censoriously, the teacher about to give a telling off.
His look is just grace. Undermining our arguments. Dismantling our complaints. Shining on our tarnished trophies. Grace, grace, grace.
I feel hot, red, awkward, unworthy as the silence falls and the gaze continues.
So do we all.