Tag: vision

  • Clearer Vision

    Clearer Vision

    Monday of the 12th Week in Ordinary Time

    2 Kings 17:5-8, 13-15a, 18; Matthew 7:1-5

    As a teenager, my parents let me go cruising with my friends. The first few times went well, so I started asking regularly. Surprisingly they let me, though I could tell they weren’t too happy. When the inevitable happened and I got into trouble, I asked them why they let me keep going. Mom said something like, “We gave you just enough freedom to show us some responsibility,” to which Dad said, “Turns out it was just enough rope to hang yourself.”

    Gulp.

    I thought about that when I read Jesus say in the Gospel, ‘Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own eye?’

    I thought I could be responsible; the trouble revealed otherwise. Israel thought it could ignore the prophets; exile revealed otherwise. The man with the beam thought he could see clearly; Jesus reveals that he cannot.

    So, back to our Lord’s question. Why do we notice little faults in others and ignore the ones in ourselves? Pride. I can feel better about myself by finding out that other people are “worse” than I am.

    Right?

    Wrong.

    The real problem is my standard of comparison. The standard isn’t other people. It’s Christ.

    What happens when Christ is the measure? Suddenly, the “splinters” in others become much less interesting. Why? Because the beam in my own eye had turned my spiritual gaze outward when all along it should be looking upward – at Jesus.

    Ironically, and as Jesus implies, the best thing about fixing our gaze upward is that it enables us to see more clearly outward. The man with the beam in his eye was trying to help someone else. Clearly, that’s a good thing. The thing is, though, that we can’t really help others heal until we’ve made real progress healing ourselves.

    Father Henri Nouwen once wrote, “The great illusion of leadership is to think that man can be led out of the desert by someone who has never been there.”

    That’s true of Christian discipleship as well. The people who help us most aren’t usually those who have never struggled, but those who have. They’re the ones who have faced their own sins, seen their own weaknesses, recognized their need for God’s mercy, and emerged with a vision of God, themselves, and others that they never had before.

    So today, instead of looking for splinters in someone else’s eye, let’s ask our Lord to show us the beam in our own. Because when our eyes are fixed on Christ and our hearts are humbled by His mercy, then — and only then — can we become the “wounded healers” who truly help others find healing.


    PS. As for the “trouble” I spoke of at the top, it was over 50 years ago. As I recall, it involved several teenage boys, a garden hose, eggs, firecrackers, a convent, and, in the end, some really unhappy nuns. 😉

  • Seeing Joy

    Seeing Joy

    Saturday of the 33rd Week in Ordinary Time

    Revelation 11:4-12; Luke 20:27-40

    While I’m not a fan of most internet videos I come across, some are genuinely moving. One of my favorites is about a young man who is given a pair of glasses by his friends. They look like sunglasses, but are designed to correct colorblindness. His reaction after putting them on is priceless; seeing the depth, variation, and vibrance of the colors that have surrounded him his entire life, the man is overwhelmed and weeps for joy.

    Today’s readings teach us that what that young man’s friends did for him, God does for us. He always has the perfect prescription for our spiritual vision.

    Sometimes we lack the “depth perception.” God speaks and we see only the surface meaning; its depth eludes us. Take the Sadducees in today’s gospel, for example. They believed that what God revealed to Moses was all He had to say; since Moses said nothing about resurrection or eternal life, God said nothing about it. This is why Jesus took them back to that first encounter between God and Moses, to those words, I am the God… of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob (Exodus 3:6). By calling Him the God of the living, Jesus reveals the deeper meaning: To God and His children, there is no past, only present: I am, not I was. All are alive in Him.

    For the Sadducees, and everyone of that time, this would have been a quantum leap in understanding. Not so for us; indeed, the Communion of the Church on Heaven and Earth is a fundamental part of the faith. At every Mass, we take time to remember all three groups; we ask for healing for those on earth, mercy for those being purified, and the intercession of the saints who have entered heavenly glory.

    We may not suffer that particular depth perception problem, but we have enough of our own. For example, we all come across passages of Scripture or teachings of the Church that are hard to understand. (If that has never been true of you, then I challenge you to re-read the passage from Revelation we just heard.) The question is what we do when that happens. Do we stop asking questions, as the Sadducees and others did to Jesus?

    I propose that God wants just the opposite; He wants us to ask questions about things that challenge us, and to persevere in our search for answers. It might take a while and definitely takes patience and effort on our part, but He has guaranteed that answers will come. Christ himself said it: … everyone who asks, receives; and the one who seeks, finds (Luke 11:10).

    Of course, he never guaranteed that we’ll like what we find, but that brings up another spiritual vision problem: shortsightedness. We can get so caught up in the details and problems of daily life that we lose sight of what we’re doing it all for. No wonder people despair or lose heart! But I think that’s why we have the reading from Revelation, to remind us that, although life can be full of bitter struggles and certainly ends in death, that’s not really the end: there is the glory of resurrection and the joy of eternal life. This is a lens through which God restores our ability to see the big picture; what matters to Him isn’t how we begin but how we end, and not who we conquer but who we trust in.

    The joy of the colorblind man, as he first sees the world in living color, is infectious; it’s easy to shed a tear of joy watching him. That’s because joy is infectious. And the good news is that joy is all around us, because the opportunities are all around us to see the living God as if for the first time. Where? In Scripture, for every word is a chance to see God in a new and deeper way. In daily life, for every moment, in joy or sorrow, He is there, strengthening us and reminding us of the peace and glory that awaits. In every person we meet, for each one is created in His image and is waiting to be discovered; and in every encounter with the Blessed Sacrament, for each is a chance to come closer and closer to the deep and abiding presence of God, who is Joy itself.