The World through Two Eyes
Perception is a tricky thing. With only two eyes on the front of our heads, our lens on the world is limited. What we see of the world in any given moment is a fraction so small, the math is not even worth mentioning. Throw in the idea that—in addition to the visible world—unseen spiritual realities, personality differences, and cultural influences are at play, and we can come only to one conclusion: No one person sees reality as a whole.
And we don’t like that, do we? We build security based on what we know, and it’s jilting to think that what we see is only part of the picture or what we have learned is only a sentence of the complete story. As a recovering know-it-all doing my best to remain sober, I can tell you its much easier to believe I hold “the right answer” than to admit my limitations and begin to ask questions—to go in pursuit of the world beyond my two eyes.
But there is so much more to the story. Every person bears the image of God, but no one person reflects him fully. When we remain content with our singular lens on the world and on God himself, we miss the kingdom life God envisioned for us “on earth as it is in heaven” (Mt. 6:9-10 NIV).
Perhaps Jesus knew we would struggle to see beyond our two eyes, why he prayed so fervently for the unity of the church in the hours before he was dragged off to die:
“I pray . . . that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one—I in them and you in me—so that they may be brought to complete unity. Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me” (John 17:20-23 NIV).
Jesus prayed for unity amongst his people, because he knew that life with God is not separate from life with each other. They’re interconnected. From the day God fashioned man and woman from the same flesh and breathed his essence into our beings, humanity was crafted to walk with both God and and each other. But when we pursue them in isolation, we cannot see ourselves, our relationships, or the world from a wider lens, and we miss the fullness of life and of who God is.
When Paul wrote that “everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry,” he wasn’t offering a cutesy saying meant to quiet kids or settle squabbles (James 1:19, NIV). He knew that our ability to connect with each other and with God depends on getting that ratio right. Fast answers, heavy-handed opinions, and quick tempers do not lead to tales of hope and healing; they do not account for the complexity of what it means to be human, with different experiences, tendencies, motivations, strengths, struggles, and emotions. Rather, we must enter the room with eyes and ears wide open.
The bigger Story is found when we begin to see through the eyes of others from all walks of life, nationalities, ethnicities, and experiences. Even if we do not agree or understand fully, we can find the places where our humanity overlap and linger there for a while—because that overlap is sacred, as if the music is already playing and God himself is waiting for us to join him in the divine dance of “I in them and you in me.” By looking into each others’ eyes and lives, what we have in common comes into view, and from that space we begin to see beyond our narrow lens, widening our perception and freeing us from the tyranny of having to have all the right answers.
Perception is tricky business, to be sure. To admit we do not see it all is to admit that we are vulnerable. But the good news is that as limited as our two eyes might be, they’re still an integral part of the greater whole, pointing us to the combined vision that God has had for us all along.
next post: Three Women Walk into a Bar (a story about perception)
