See Thee More Clearly

I remember walking out of the optometrist’s office and looking up at the trees. I was astonished. Leaves! I could see individual leaves on the trees!

My first pair of glasses, acquired after my fifth grade teacher noticed I was consistently squinting at the chalkboard, revolutionized my perspective. I had not known what I could not see until I put on that first pair of hideous, octagonal-shaped, wire-rimmed glasses.

As a seventh grader, I began wearing hard contact lenses. Daily maintenance was a hassle, but I was relieved to no longer require frames. Over the course of four decades, I progressed through a range of contact lens options - soft, overnight, disposable, monovision. I never did learn how to put a lens in my eye using only one finger.

Year after year, when I visited the optometrist for my annual exam, I offered a one-letter response when the optometric technician asked, “What is the smallest line you can read?” E. The top line was the only one I could see clearly with my right eye. The vision in my left eye was marginally better. Although I was always grateful to have access to corrective lenses, many mornings when I opened my eyes and viewed a blurry room, I wondered what it would be like to be able to see things clearly without assistance.

Photo by David Travis on Unsplash

And then it happened. Forty-six years after I was fitted for my first pair of glasses, an eye infection prevented me from wearing contact lenses for several weeks. After the optometrist gave me the green light to begin wearing my contacts again, I was stunned to realize that my eyesight had been better without them. How had I failed to detect this dramatic improvement in my long-distance vision?

When I returned to the optometrist several months later for my annual exam, the technician asked her usual question: “Have you been having any trouble with your lenses?” I sheepishly admitted I had not been wearing my lenses at all. My optometrist later explained that while most folks experience a gradual decline in visual acuity as they age, some observe the opposite effect. He assured me my eyes were healthy and sent me merrily on my way. Goodbye, contact lenses, saline solution, and plastic cases.

During a recent conversation, a friend who is a retired chaplain mused, “I wonder who gave you those glasses?” She was referencing an experience she had in a hospital room years ago, as she ministered to a dying patient and her family. A comment by a family member prompted my friend to wonder where he had learned to think like that: Who had given him the lenses with which he viewed God and the world?

After that conversation, I continued to ponder my friend’s question. Who gave me the glasses with which I initially viewed God, Scripture, myself, my neighbors, and the world? When did I set aside that first pair of frames and pick up ones that gave me a fresh perspective?

As a teenager, I recall hearing many conversations at church about “the Christian worldview.” I no longer believe that a monolithic Christian worldview exists. Many people in the United States who self-identify as Christians espouse beliefs that, in my view, are diametrically opposed to Jesus’ teachings. The pews in many churches are filled with folks who wholeheartedly embrace Christian nationalism, a way of looking at America that is associated with assumptions about nativism, white supremacy, authoritarianism, patriarchy, and militarism. I am a follower of Jesus, and I don’t look at America through those particular lenses.

Photo by Matthew Fassnacht on Unsplash

While I often wish I could simply hand my glasses over to someone else to help them see things the way I see them, I recognize that I would be wiser to focus on my own vision. Undoubtedly, I have blind spots. Just as I continue to visit my optometrist annually for vision checks, I know I need to regularly examine the spiritual lenses with which I view God, myself, and my neighbors.

So as I intentionally focus on my own glasses, I sing these words from the musical “Godspell,” lyrics inspired by a prayer attributed to the 13th century English bishop Saint Richard of Chichester:

“Day by day
Day by day
Oh Dear Lord
Three things I pray
To see thee more clearly
Love thee more dearly
Follow thee more nearly
Day by day"

May it be so.