Through His Eyes

The measure of a man's real character is what he would do if he knew he never would be found out. ~Thomas Babington Macaulay

     Sunday afternoon when I returned home from my ride through history, I sent Dave a detailed email looking for some kind of comfort in his words, that I was not finding from Jesus.  Dave's question to me, "Can you imagine the pain he (Jesus) felt?"  I quickly closed the email.  It was too much.  My first reaction was "Pain He felt?  He could have done something."  Why didn't He strike him dead right there.  What good was talking.  None.  It did no good.  I didn't want to think about how Jesus felt that night.  I was too wrapped up in how I felt.  Now with the realization that Jesus was there, I had new feelings to process.
     Slowly, my brain allowed me to process those feelings.  I remember thinking that night, "Where is everybody who is supposed to care about me?  Where is my dad and why is he not saving me?"  Actually, I was more afraid of my dad being angry with me so even though I wanted to be rescued, I was glad he did not show up. 
     As Dave's question weighed on my brain and I slowly allowed it sink in, I realized how horrible as a parent, as an older sibling, how hard it would be for Jesus.  This brought back the question, "Why didn't He stop it?"  If it was my little sister, I would have killed the man.  If it was my child, I would have no control.  He would have died that night.  I would not have been whispering or even screaming in his ear to stop.
     Then it hit me.  What if it was my child abusing another of my children?  Striking him dead would possibly take away his chance to be saved.  I couldn't strike my child dead no matter what he was doing.  It takes me back to times, on a much smaller scale, when my kids did hurt each other.  I remember begging one to stop tormenting the other.  One of the most painful things I have dealt with as a parent is when one of my children intentionally hurts another.  They are usually wrapped up in their own feelings, their own wants, not realizing what kind of permanent damage they are doing to one of the only people in the world who has a clue what their childhood was like, where they came from.  As a parent I can see the gift they could find in each other.  I can see the bond they could share.  I can see things they can't possibly see.  If I told them, even if I sat down and explained how their behavior would affect both of their lives later, would they understand?  Would they care?  Are they stuck in the moment, wanting what they want in all their immaturity and lack of self control.
     I can't see the whole picture, only a small glimpse through the eyes of my Father.


“To take seriously the universality of the Word is to grasp that one encounters that Word in one's own human existence every day. To have life and to live in the world is to know, at some level of awareness, the reality of that mysterious power that has made life the way it is and has made each of us the way we are, and the truth that we are bound inescapably to live in relationship to that same mysterious power and to one another. To have human consciousness is to experience the universe as a sacred place and to understand that if we fail to appreciate and respect it, we do so at our own peril. To show up in life as a human being is to know in one's heart the sacred worth of every creature and therefore to know the obligation to treat every other human being with dignity and honor. And to be a human being is also to experience, whether ever acknowledged, moments of grace in which the goodness of creation and the blessedness of one's own particular life have become transparent.”
― John F. Baggett, Seeing Through the Eyes of Jesus: His Revolutionary View of Reality and His Transcendent Significance for Faith