“The eye is the lamp of the body. Therefore, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how terrible that darkness will be!”     –Matthew 6:22-23, CEB

WhenI look out from my porch as I do my morning devotions, I see two beautiful ivy-covered trees, teeming with birds and bugs.  I see the beams of sunlight sneaking through the branches.  I hear the cicadas, I taste my coffee, I rest in the scripture, I pray for my loved ones.  It is a place of peace for me, so I love starting my day this way.  This week I was reading a devotion from Mark Nepo’s The Book of Awakening, a reflection on the above scripture passage.  Nepo says, ” To let others in as well as to let ourselves out seems essential to staying authentic.”

Letting In, Letting Out

We understand the eye welcomes light into the body, but the ancients saw the eye less as a window to the soul and more a “lamp of the body.” In other words, the eye projects the light upon objects, the light that is inside of us illuminates the light inside of what we see.  While we know this isn’t how eyes and light actually work, it’s helpful to make this distinction to understand the scripture. Matthew 6 is all about our relationship to possessions, and by extension, our relationship to creation.  “You cannot serve both God and Mammon” comes right after our passage on eye sight.  The way your eyes illuminate the world around you, the way you ascribe value to what you see, has an impact beyond your private thoughts.  If the eye is a lamp and not just a window, the idea goes that your perception influences the world around you.

If your eye is healthy, you let in light to the whole of you. You perceive a right relationship between God and creation.  You let in the light of truth that reminds you everything you see is a beloved creation of the Most High God.  You let in the light that reminds you that you and every person you see are immeasurably loved by the Creator.  When your whole body is full of light, you let that light back out into the world.  People around you can begin to sense their worth because you remind them they are worthy.  Possessions are no longer simply tools and resources for you to use and dispose as you see fit.  Instead they become gifts for which we can be grateful and good stewards.

But when our eyes are bad, when our perception is off, even the light gets perceived as darkness.  When we let in darkness we let it right back out into the world.  We become protective and greedy.  We become either self-important or self-abasing. People and possessions alike become tools to help us feel better about ourselves or to help us get ahead.

Connection in a Pandemic

WhenI hold my eyes closed, I can barely perceive the last thing I saw.  I see residual outlines of shapes as the cones in my eyes settle down.  This is how I feel during this pandemic.  I long to open my eyes and let the fullness of light in and out of my body.  I long to make rich and meaningful connections with friends and family and parishioners over a meal in my house with long hugs.  I try to make connections.  I’m texting more than ever before, calling people all the time, holding video calls and even writing letters.  These outlets provide a sense of the belonging and connection that I want, but it still feels like I’m connecting with my eyes closed.

In these conditions, God can start to feel like a residual outline seen through eyes closed tightly.  As motivation and ambition decreases for many of us during the pandemic, the pursuit of God can start to feel tired and stale.  It’s not that we’re intentionally letting darkness into our lives.  The darkness is externally imposed upon us.

A colleague recently referred to this season as “pandemic tide,” implying we are in a liturgical period that is telling the Christian story in a unique way. We are learning what it means to be a community of belonging when we can no longer gather.  We are asking what it means to be a people of praise when we can no longer sing together.  We are wondering what it means to be a body who mourns together when we can not gather for funerals.

When the world becomes a darker place, how much more important is it that we remember the eye is the lamp of the body. Ground yourself each day in the reality that God the Creator has surrounded your life with gifts.

Close your eyes.  Hold them closed and try to make out the residual outlines of the last things you saw.  How is this sensation similar to the ways you feel in a pandemic?

Now open your eyes and let the light illuminate your entire being.  What is the first thing that you see?  How is it a gift that brings you gratitude?

How is your attitude like a lamp that projects light into the world? What is one way you can connect with someone today to share that light?