The Gift of Seeing with the Heart

Simone Riva - The Gift of Seeing with the Heart

We risk thinking that urgency is always outside of us. But in this way, we forget the promise made to Abraham and the transfiguration of Christ.Every day, we are bombarded with words and opinions about what happens around us. There are experts on every topic: war, peace, climate, politics, environment, sports, history, love, work—and many of the reflections they offer are truly interesting. Then you happen to read passages like this: “In those days, God brought Abram outside and said, ‘Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can count them,’ and he added, ‘So shall your offspring be’” (Genesis 15:5). And you begin to suspect that the true issues are different from what everyone keeps discussing.

God provokes Abram regarding the potential fruitfulness of his life, about what could come from his assent, and He does so with an exaggeration: the number of stars in the sky. In none of the analyses we encounter about what happens around us do we find such esteem for what lies within us. God doesn’t seem concerned with the circumstances, but rather that man may flourish, because only our growth can offer a decisive contribution to what surrounds us as well.

This is what Saint Paul, with dramatic tones, writes to the Christians of Ephesus: “Brothers, join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us. For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things” (Philippians 3:17-19). [Note: The original text cites Ephesians 3:17-19, but the correct reference is Philippians 3:17-19.]

The danger, indeed, is to think that urgency lies always outside ourselves. We plunge into solving the world’s problems, discussing the big picture, attempting to fit everything into neat and tidy categories that give us the illusion of controlling reality—and then, immediately after, we dismiss those who disagree with us.

This is the “belly” of our time, which Paul speaks of, always ready to become the most appealing idol. It provides the sensation of being full, satisfied, content, because we have said or done the right thing. This is characteristic of “earthly things,” when they manage to make us forget to look up at the stars in the sky. Sometimes, it feels as though we are caught up in a great race to forget ourselves.

This is why we need the provocation that the Church offers during Lent. The transfiguration event, which we hear on this second Sunday, shows us how to stand before reality: through a silence filled with a Presence. The cloud that envelops Peter, James, and John frightens them. Even Christ’s presence isn’t enough to dispel their fear, perhaps a sign that familiarity with the Mystery is yet to be achieved.

Then a voice came from the cloud, saying, “This is my Son, my Chosen One; listen to him!” And when the voice had ceased, Jesus was found alone. They kept silent and told no one in those days anything of what they had seen (Luke 9:35-36). They had never experienced such a profound silence. There were no appropriate words, no fitting thoughts, no effective analyses—only silence could preserve what they had witnessed, with all the capacities man possesses: those of reason and those of affection.

For the first time, they realized they could see with the heart. They had already lived it, but now they finally understood it. One can only imagine what they pondered in that silence—likely the same question Abram asked after God’s promise of a land: “O Lord God, how am I to know that I shall possess it?”

They probably desired to hold onto forever the truth of God’s closeness, revealed before their eyes. And they will have it, but not before the cross. This is what happens when a person decides no longer to put themselves aside. It will be worthwhile to accept the challenge, to truly contribute to the world.

The author has not revised the text and its translations.

Simone Riva

Don Simone Riva, born in 1982, is an Italian Catholic priest ordained in 2008. He serves as parochial vicar in Monza and teaches religion. Influenced by experiences in Peru, Riva authors books, maintains an active social media presence, and participates in religious discussions. He's known for engaging youth and connecting faith with contemporary

Previous
Previous

From Peak to Path

Next
Next

Our Humanity and Work