With Both Eyes

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Once on a high school retreat, one of the university students leading the day of prayer asked us what was the most common thing to do after taking a picture of a group of friends.  I’m not sure if this claim is backed up by any kind of empirical evidence, but he suggested that, when looking at a picture just taken, people tend to not look at the picture in general, but instead to zero in on themselves…

How did I look?

Was I smiling? Was I making an awkward face or not looking at the camera?

After confirming that we do not look absolutely ridiculous, our view widens as we begin to appreciate all of the other details captured in the photo.  

I often wonder if this habit may be a symptom of something deeper going on in our hearts...something that may lead us to ask:

Am I lovable?

Why doesn’t anyone love me?

What do I need to do to make it easier for people to love me?

Will anyone ever see me for who I really am?

Will anyone ever really understand me?

These questions are so dangerous because they oftentimes are built on lies that do nothing but reinforce the idea that we are not lovable, that we need to constantly adapt ourselves to the desires of others in order to be loved, and that we will never be truly known.  

The lies lead to behaviors that eventually become habits, further rooting ourselves in a self-image thatt becomes less grounded in reality and more dependent on the people around me. Soon we begin to resemble something of a Frankenstein’s monster as our self-image is nothing but a lifeless, cobbled-together identity that easily falls apart at the seams when the expectations of who we are around others continually changes.  

How can we avoid giving into the lies or subjecting our self-identity to the fickle opinions of others?

Perhaps one approach would be to consider the sinful woman who anointed Jesus’ feet in Luke 7:36-50. 

One of the Pharisees asked him to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house and reclined at table. And behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that he was reclining at table in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment, and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head and kissed his feet and anointed them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner.” And Jesus answering said to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” And he answered, “Say it, Teacher.”

“A certain moneylender had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he cancelled the debt of both. Now which of them will love him more?” Simon answered, “The one, I suppose, for whom he cancelled the larger debt.” And he said to him, “You have judged rightly.” Then turning toward the woman he said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.” And he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”  Then those who were at table with him began to say among themselves, “Who is this, who even forgives sins?” And he said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

When the woman approaches Jesus and begins to anoint and wash his feet, the Pharisee could obviously see what was happening before him.  He knew the woman’s history and because of this he easily dismisses her and focuses instead on why Jesus would let this sinful woman approach him.  At the very center of this scene we hear Jesus ask a question, “Do you see this woman?” Clearly, the Pharisee does not.  He looks past her. He looks around her.  He sees her sinfulness and loses sight of her humanity in the process.  

Interestingly enough, there isn’t a need for Jesus to say to the woman, “Do you see yourself? Do you see what you are doing? You are interrupting a dinner party and are humiliating yourself in front of everyone.”  

Jesus doesn’t need to ask this because it is obvious that she does see herself, this is what drives her to the feet of Christ.  

She knows that she is a sinner - she possesses a sense of self-knowledge that alerts her to the fact that her way of life is leaving her feeling lost, meaningless, and hopeless.  The woman, in an act of self-acceptance, has also clearly come to terms with her sinfulness to the point that she knows she needs a savior.  Because of this combination of self-knowledge and self-acceptance, she can begin to make a humble gift of herself as she washes and anoints the feet of Christ in her poverty.  Surely this is only the beginning of her journey of faith, but it is an essential step.  

In our own journeys we have to seriously take into account the state of our self-knowledge and self-acceptance. As the now forgiven woman demonstrates in the home of the Pharisee, self-knowledge and self-acceptance is not something that we have to put off until we are free from sinful actions; it is something that we can and should do right now.  Sometimes we can give into the misleading desire that we have to be free from all sin (especially habitual sins) or that we have to have our lives completely together before we can know and accept who we are.  I believe that this is a misleading desire because it can actually prolong the movement towards freedom from sinful actions or true self-acceptance.  We can say to ourselves, “once I’m free from x, y, or z...” or “once I have my life together then my spiritual journey can really begin and my prayer life will take off.”  This attitude is dangerous as it can lead us to continually procrastinate in our movement to the feet of Christ.  

When we can actually admit “my life is messy” or “I am a sinner” or “I continually sin in this way” we can begin to move from self-knowledge to acceptance of our current state.  Accepting where we are does not mean that there is no need for change, quite the opposite.  The woman washing Jesus’ feet with her own tears testifies to the fact that there was a deep desire for change and forgiveness.  Accepting where we are simply means that we now have the ability to see where we need to go.  The GPS on your phone can easily find another location, but in order to see the directions, it needs to know where you are.  In a similar way, self-acceptance does not leave us aimlessly wandering in our messy lives, but instead gives us a firm footing to know where we stand in Christ’s loving gaze.  

Through these twin lenses we now have greater freedom for self-gift.  When we have an unrealistic image of who we are or what we are capable of doing, what we try to offer of ourselves to others is easily rejected, noticeably shallow, or completely unnoticed.  We can feel slighted as we think that who and what we are is being rejected by people who are supposed to care for us.  More lies can erupt from these wounds that further distance us from knowing and accepting who we really are, further exacerbating the problem to the point that our hearts become hardened and we become stuck in the vicious cycle of the rejection of the false-self that we present to other, a need to be known, and self-hatred,  

When grounded in true self-knowledge and self-acceptance, on the other hand, we find that we can make a true gift of self to others and that even if this gift is rejected, overlooked, or misunderstood, we do not find ourselves disintegrating under the weight of other people’s opinions.  As we see in the now forgiven woman’s case, even in her sinfulness, her capacity for self-knowledge and self-acceptance led her to the feet of Christ whom she “loved very much.”  Now that she is forgiven, her love will only grow stronger and her gift of self more radical.  





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