From the Rector

Dear friends in Christ, 

I realized last week looking through my telescope that it's time to see my optometrist. My vision is slipping again.

I'm nearsighted. I find it particularly disappointing not being able to see things at a distance – it's more annoying than if I needed glasses for close work. Without glasses, and sadly even with them, I can't see the stars clearly at night. I can't see the tiny specks of satellites crossing the sky. 

Sometimes I prefer to leave my glasses off in public, sitting with friends or in moments outdoors. The world beyond my immediate vicinity becomes a more indistinct landscape; anything beyond arm's reach is a blur, distant objects blur into vague abstractions. The world continues its turning whether I can see it clearly or not.

There's something here for me about faith and spiritual sight. As my physical vision needs correction, so too our spiritual perception often requires divine adjustment.

The season of Epiphany speaks to this – this stretch before Ash Wednesday invites us to contemplate how we behold God's glory in the face of Christ. Sometimes what we believe is clarity – our certainty about what we see and know – can itself become a barrier to a deeper vision.

I'm brought back to St. Paul's prayer for the Ephesians: "I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you" (Eph. 1:16-17). 

Like the Magi following the star at its rising in the East to Bethlehem, we're called to trust in a vision beyond our natural sight and follow as it leads us to Christ.

Last Sunday's reading from Isaiah stayed with me, where God declares to Judah, "... you are precious in my sight" (Isa. 43:4).

True vision begins not with our ability to see clearly, but with allowing ourselves to be seen – fully and lovingly and unconditionally – by God. We let ourselves be told by God who we are as he sees us.

In this Epiphany season, we are given eyes to see the world as God sees it: transfigured by love, alight with the presence of God's Son, even when our own vision fails us. True vision – the kind that reveals God's "immeasurable greatness" and ourselves as beloved children of God – comes not from our own careful corrections but as a gift of grace, helping us to see through the glass less dimly, one revelation of divine love at a time.

Yours in Christ,

Fr. Peter