Pastor’s Thoughts; Cleaning Windows

I stood there staring. It was a view I hadn’t seen in a very long time, my backyard through a clean kitchen window. Colors! Shining, moving, blues and greens, inviting me to come out and play.

I took a half step to the left. Yep, there it was – the faded gray, washed-out world that had become my normal, so gradually over time I hadn’t even noticed. And as I absorbed that dreary scene, I could feel the old familiar gray mood settling back in. Time for a nap.

Same me. Same reality; but vastly divergent perceptions of that reality. The difference? The condition of the lens.

I think we’re fairly clear-eyed when we first set out to follow Christ: in the world but not of it, living out our love of God and others. But hurts, hates, hardships and fears can leave our soul’s windows gray and clouded, until eventually we’re seeing reality less as God sees it and more as the world sees it.

I’m the same person I was when I started the journey. The word of God in Scripture is still my life’s guide. I still read Matthew 22:39, but now do I see strangers where God sees neighbors? And I take Matthew 25:31-46 to heart; but am I unable to see “the least of these my brethren” anywhere outside of my hometown? I’m still committed to obeying Leviticus 19:34; but do the eyes of my heart see the migrant as a threat to my way of life, not the strangers living among us whom I am to love as myself? 

“The lamp of the body is the eye. If therefore your eye is good, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness.” (Matthew 6:22, 23a)

If I don’t see what Jesus sees, are the eyes of my heart ok? If God is light and I don’t see what God sees, what will fill me?

If therefore the light that is in you is darkness, how great is that darkness!” (Matthew 6:23b) 

Same me. Same God. Same Scripture. So if the light that reaches my soul is more gray than bright, more dark than light, it is time for some serious window cleaning. But how do we do it, where do we start? There’s no Windex for that. 

There’s a clue in Jesus’ words. When he spoke of “A good eye,” that meant something very specific to his listeners that we can easily miss. 

In Jesus’ day, a person who was generous was said to have an ayin tovah – a “good eye.” (The Greek word we translate as “good” captures the same meaning.) With an ayin tovah, we see every child of God as our neighbor. We see ‘the least of these’ wherever they are in the world; we see the stranger among us, and cannot do less than love that stranger as ourselves. 

Jesus’ warning that without a good eye we can be filled with darkness is stark and powerful. But it’s not just – not even first – about keeping the darkness out: it’s about letting the love, joy and peace of the light of Christ pour in. Other people then become blessings, not threats. Even our daily lives are enriched. Being stopped behind a school bus isn’t an inconvenience: it’s a chance to enjoy the little children. Stuck behind someone in a checkout line isn’t a waste of time: it’s a chance for kindness, a chance to share a smile with someone. 

Years of built-up smoke and grime don’t come off easily. The first couple times I thought my window at home was clean; I stood back and found there were still streaks, spots, and dirt in the corners. So with the eyes of my heart.

And it’s important to keep in mind that generous eye is not rose-colored glasses. It sees the dark as well as the light. It just doesn’t confuse one for the other.

So when we start to suspect there are people we’re not seeing the same way Jesus sees them, it’s time to break out a big bottle of Generous and start cleaning. Apply liberally. And often.