In the compelling 2016 fantasy drama film, A MONSTER CALLS, directed by J.A. Bayona, a child dealing with the impending loss of his terminally ill mother is visited by a monster who tells him a series of stories about truth in an effort to empower the child to face truth in the child’s own life.  The ambiguity of who in the film is a monster and who is not sets the framework for how we as complex humans fail to see – much less appreciate – the many ways that we can heal and be healed by the relationships that we have preordained as bad, good, or insignificant.  There is a haunting sense of how our judgments of good and bad people and things – and our resulting actions – can cause more pain than facing new and surprising truths which can heal us in ways unimaginable.

There is a recurring theme throughout the film about the eyes and seeing, captured exquisitely in one particular scene wherein the mother is observing the child sketching a picture of a monster.  In this particular scene, the child is drawing the eyes of the monster’ and the mother affirms the young artist’s ability to draw the eyes with a reflection within them.  Pointing at the eyes of the sketched drawing, she tells her son, “Life is in the eyes and if you can catch that…”

What is this reflection in the eyes that reveals and indeed grants LIFE?  In today’s first reading from the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 3:1-10 ), we hear the exuberance of Peter as he addresses a man crippled from birth begging for alms at the “beautiful gate” of the temple:

Peter looked intently at him, as did John, and said, “Look at us.”
He paid attention to them, expecting to receive something from them.
Peter said, “I have neither silver nor gold, but what I do have I give you.

And with that the man was healed.  I wonder what that eye-locking interaction was like between Peter, John and the crippled man.  We hear that it had intensity.  The three men must have seen each other’s reflections in the eyes of the others.  How powerful and intimate that must have been.  This was a gift that Peter knew he and John had the ability to give.  At the same time, it was a gift that the crippled man had to give.  It was the gift of life, indeed NEW LIFE, that was the mark of being raised up, or healed in the Risen Christ.  It was the gift of Life transmitted and received through the eyes of relating to another.  This new life reflected both ways, i.e., from Peter and John toward the crippled man, and from the crippled man toward Peter and John.  The healing in life is not unidirectional, but radiates forth in reflective relational Risen love!  The question is whether or not we have the ‘eyes’ to see this and the heart to work for this.

That question is dramatically engaged in the Gospel story of Emmaus (Lk 24:13-35). We are told in this beautiful Easter story of how disciples on their way from Jerusalem to Emmaus (a short 7-mile trek) are joined by Jesus, “but their eyes were prevented from recognizing him.” Later in the story, Jesus rehearses all the scripture passages for them to show that indeed this paschal mystery had always been a part of their story, though they were not able to see it as such.  The truth for them was in the facts that they had – Jesus was crucified, had died, and was now gone.  After arriving at Emmaus, at the request of these disciples, Jesus does stay with them, but it is only in the breaking of the bread “that their eyes were opened and they recognized him.”

Why could they not see or recognize Jesus before?  Why was it only the broken bread that finally gave them the eyesight to see the New Life before them?  As a symbol of the Eucharist, this is a powerful story, but we may be tempted to literalize our interpretation of the story without taking into consideration the extreme importance hidden in the broken bread.  Could this bread broken and given as food signify  how our interaction in brokenness with each other can be a new way to see the truth of our stories, of our lives, and of our God?  When we can face our brokenness as it is reflected in the eyes of those we meet, the Christ story – the Easter story – takes on a dimension that can move us from despair and confusion toward hope and encouragement.  This is the possibility for a deeper relationship that can move us beyond the judgment of facts and into the realm of surprising truths that can radicalize our ideas and actions about love and life!

Peter’s command to the crippled man to “Look at us!” is itself an echoing cry from the crippled man himself to Peter and John.  Life is in the eyes and if we can catch that life glimmering in the lives of each other we can begin to see that the engaging sight – really SEEING – of each other is that which grants us the dignity of God’s Love!  Nothing short of this can empower the seeing of Life to become the living of New Life for everyone!  Like the disciples on the way to Emmaus, we can fret and remain discouraged about our own ‘stories,’ our own predicaments of ‘truths’ or we can allow the brokenness of our lives, the brokenness of others’ lives, the brokenness of the world to give us Eyes to see the Hope and Promise of New Life that can be shared in the Truth of Freedom in the Risen!

Isn’t that what we are being faced with right now – the possibility of holding on to stories and supposed truths about our world and lives, trying to get back to a normal?  Aren’t we feeling that same discouragement, confusion, fearfulness, anger and loneliness that the disciples felt?  At the same time, we also know that those moments of healing and interaction are going on with those caring for the sick and dying on account of the pandemic.  And, it’s not just those who are sick with the virus, who are in need of healing.  The disruptive brokenness is also pandemic and the opportunity to mutually heal and support  each other is offered to us on a daily basis, if we can only see it.  Like Peter contends, there is nothing too small to share and give in the name of love, compassion and healing…”what I do have, I give you.”

This engagement of seeking, seeing, and living the Risen Christ is a daily, indeed a moment-by-moment task.  And it is not an easy task; however, it is a shared task and there is strength in solidarity.

Life is relational and all of the truths about our lives intersect the truths of all other lives.  Although this intersection does involve brokenness, it behooves us to embrace and so heal the brokenness by allowing the Risen Life of Christ to reflect and radiate and so embody all of us!

Peace,

Thomas

( originally published April 4, 2018)