Monday, February 3, 2014

I Spy With My Little Eye ...

"Every eye in the synagogue was fixed on him."  Luke 4:20b (CEB)

When I read this closing sentence in v20 in the Common English Bible, I could see myself in the floor-length white seersucker dress with delicate yellow tulips on it that my mom made for me.  That's what I wore to what would be my last piano recital at 15.  That dress conjured up everything about summer that fashion could and I felt beautiful in it.  Problem is, that didn't necessarily translate to my fingers.  Looking a little better while sitting on the piano bench doesn't mean you can play the piece any better.  I wrestled with that dilemma at every recital.  Take my music away from me and, all of a sudden, I didn't feel the music nearly so much as I felt every eye in the place on me.  Would I be able to pull it off?  Would I crumble under the pressure?  Regardless of how I performed, would they like me?  That pressure wasn't the only reason I was done with piano lessons after all those years.  But, I confess it was good to be rid of that pressure.

I fancy no notion that, in the synagogue that day, Jesus felt like I did while sitting on the recital piano bench.  But, I'm pretty certain he FELT every eye in the place on him.  When we're in the spotlight, it's natural - I think - to wonder about our performance.  Will we be received?  Will we be appreciated?  Will we choke or excell?  I get the sense that Jesus wasn't preoccupied with delivery or performance because he was focused on the importance of the truth he would declare. 

Still, the verse reads that every eye was on him.  So, what did they expect to witness ... to hear?  to see?  Were they ready to receive what he offered?  Or, would that depend on whether his words were comforting, his presence soothing?

I'll tell you what this verse really leads me to ... because I've been in that moment when I felt every eye on me (whether they were or not), now I'm conscious about what catches my eye.  Do I really see or pay attention to the power of the moment?  Or do I rush right past the beauty, the brokenness, the opportunity, the hope simply because I am busy with my own stuff?

More specifically, is my eye on Jesus?  You can read the rest of the chapter ... they didn't like what they heard and because they were offended by the truth, they decided to be offended by the messenger.  Perhaps the Church would be more offended if our eyes were actually on Jesus, searching Him out in every moment, in every place,  in every person.

What catches your eye?  On who or what do you fix your gaze these days?



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