Eyes of Grace
A few weeks ago I was having lunch with a new friend named Austin. Through the course of our conversation I opened up some pretty vulnerable parts of myself to this relative stranger. In fact at one point Austin apologized for asking such personal questions, admitting he didn’t do surface level conversations well. Anyway, I’m in the midst of talking and he looks at me and says “You have a lot of pain in your eyes.” I had just met this guy and he looks into my eyes and tells me that. My first reaction was to try and close the blinds into my soul. Then he counters with “… and that’s ok.” I looked back into his eyes and I saw eyes of grace. I saw eyes that told me; “I’m not afraid of your pain, I’m not afraid of the stories of your scars and your fears.” Without him saying a word I knew this, I knew because truly the eyes are the windows into our souls.
Austin was right, my eyes were full of pain. Some of it was pain that had just happened, some of it was the pain of still-sore scar tissue. I’ve had a lot of pain in my life and because of that I often hesitate to tell people the fullness of my story. I hesitate because it can be terrifying to tell someone your story and look into their eyes. You stare back into their eyes searching for a window into what they are feeling. Searching and hoping for eyes of grace and acceptance, longing for eyes that say:
… and that’s ok I accept you.
My story is one is often difficult to tell. It’s one that people often don’t get, they don’t know how to feel about it, they get uncomfortable and squirm in their seats. My story is messy and dirty, full of pain and loss. It has no tidy and bow-tied ending. There is unresolved tension throughout the tale. I’ve often told my story and people try to feign grace-filled eyes. I’ve told my story only to gaze into judging, ridiculing, hateful eyes. It’s a look the shuts you up and closes you off faster than any slap in the face.
One of my favorite stories of Jesus is the story of the woman caught in adultery. This woman is flung at Jesus’ feet, and the religious authorities challenge him to pass a judicial ruling upon her. The give him two options; condemn her to death and therefore run afoul of the Romans, or let her go therefore violating religious law. Jesus however, chooses a third way; grace. He dismisses the mob with one phrase: “Whoever is without sin, let them throw the first stone.”
Many people like to stop the story there to prove: See you can’t judge someone because you have sin. But, the truth and the point of the story are in the next sentences. Jesus asks the woman if anyone has condemned her, she says no one. Then Jesus says “Neither do I, now go leave your sinful life.” Jesus passed judgment, he judged her life as sinful, and called to her to leave it. BUT, he did it from a position of love and grace, NOT judgment and hatred.
I imagine this woman looked in the eyes of Jesus and expected to see hatred and Judgment. She’d seen it on the face of every mob member. I’m sure the prodigal son looked to the eyes of the father knowing he’d see eyes of anger and bitterness. He’d seen it in the older brother’s eyes. I look to God expecting to see eyes of bored detachment, annoyed and angry at my incessant failings.
If God is only capable of looking at us with eyes of love, grace, and warmth then what gives us the rights as forgiven humans to look at each other with eyes any different from God’s? You can’t fake eyes of grace and love. Your heart must first be full of love, must be molded to the shape of God’s heart. Then your eyes will naturally express the love and grace that has filled your heart. What would it take, what would it look like for you to hear a story of pain, sin, broken aching lostness and to look back with eyes of love and grace?
Grace and Peace,
Justin Friel
2 comments:
Wow... You write with such beauty, clarity, grace, and passion. Your words have inspired me tonight.
Thank you for your kind and inspiring words, Justin. I now hope to live up to them, and I am glad to count you among my friends.
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