|
 We are pleased to offer a new eight part series 'Learning to love' by Mike Mason. They are edited excerpts from his book 'Practicing the Presence of People (Waterbrook Press, 1999) Mike, a regular contributor to canadianchristianity.com, is perhaps most well known for his book 'The Mystery of Marriage.' that won the ECPA Gold Medallion award.
[other pieces by Mike Mason]
One time in the mall I saw a little robot being used as an advertising gimick. He was about three feet high, rolled around the floor on invisible castors, and had a semi-spherical plexiglass head bedizened with flashing lights like a pinball machine. This little fellow had gathered quite a crowd. People were mesmerized, could hardly drag themselves away. The robot was remote-controlled by a human operator who stood some fifty feet away. Nobody was interested in the human. Nor was anyone interested in the fact that all around the mechanical wonder stood a crowd of flesh-and-blood wonders, each one of whom was inherently more complex and fascinating than any machine. It was almost as if we had all forgotten how to be alive, and so were praying to a little computer to remind us. "O sweet little metal man," said all those gawking eyes, "teach us too to be animate. Show us how to be thrilled with one another, as we are with you."
 How we do love our toys! Yet often the real thing bores us to death. Wouldn't we humans have been better off that day to forget the robot and to spend our time marveling at each other? Isn't this what we secretly long to do?
A seventy-year-old friend once told me, "I haven't seen much in my life. I haven't really seen my children or my grandchildren. I haven't seen their smiles or their faces. I guess I've had my eyes open all this time, because I haven't bumped into any walls. But only now is my vision really clearing, a little more each day. How marvelous to be able to see people!"
Continue article >>
|
Have you noticed how hard it is to see people clearly? It is one thing to look, but it is quite another to see, and still another to hold what one sees in focus in the heart. Even when people are motionless, still they appear to be moving slightly, swimming across the field of vision. Their image bounces and jiggles, blurs, refuses to hold still. It's like trying to examine the moon through binoculars without a tripod. You wish the thing would stop dancing around.
Only one thing will hold the human image still: love. That is why lovers gaze into each others' eyes. They are transported by a vision of glory.
Becoming a Christian begins with recognizing God in one human being, Jesus Christ, and it goes on from there to the recognition of God's image in everyone. Having seen in Jesus God's glory in human form, we now know what (or rather who) to look for in all God's people. As Jesus said, "I have given them the glory that You gave Me" (John 17:22).
I once wrote a book on visions of heaven. My research involved talking to a number of people who regularly have spectacular visions. Getting to know these people, I grew jealous. I began to pray that the Lord would grant me such experiences, and eventually God answered me in a surprising way. He said, "Why should I give you visions of heaven when you cannot see what is right in front of your eyes? How can you see Jesus in heaven when you cannot even see your own neighbor on earth?"
This answer both shocked and shamed me. I've been thinking about it ever since. It's true: we see God most clearly in other people, through the lens of love. We sense that the quality of our spiritual life is no better than the quality of our human relationships, and that our connection with other people is a true picture of our connection with God. Therefore as Christians we humble ourselves before one another just as much as before Jesus.
April 24/2008
|
