Monday March 23, 2015

Isaiah 49:6

It is too light a thing that you should be my servant
   to raise up the tribes of Jacob
   and to restore the survivors of Israel;
I will give you as a light to the nations,
   that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.’ 

In your eyes

I imagine your eyes, Jesus. Sometimes I truly see them and know what is there.

The tenderness in your eyes when you held and blessed children brings tears. But I also love the fire and anger there when you threw money changers from the temple and railed against arrogant Pharisees who parsed the law but cared nothing for the poor.

It is easy for me to see compassion in your eyes as your head turned side-to-side surveying the longing crowd, who were like sheep without a shepherd. Your eyes reveal your frustration over the dullness disciples who failed to understand you. And I see the quiet that filled them as you prayed by the lake.

Most painful is the desperation and pain as they tied you to a stake and whipped you bloody. I can barely look into your eyes then.

You are so real to me, and your eyes are lights into your soul, no, into the soul of the Loving Mystery who filled you.

Your eyes are a light, revealing the heart of the One who longs for us.

I look into your eyes and know what I need to know. But the mystery I see in you shines, too, in other eyes that glisten with the light of God, speaking a surprising love that finds and fills me even in these morning hours.

Two words: Thank you … for what I know in your eyes.

Pr. David L. Miller