The Curious Pilgrim

When God Opens Our Eyes

This morning I read a social media post from a woman who had walked through PrideFest in downtown Springfield, Missouri. She described the experience as though she had walked into Sodom and Gomorrah. She seemed fearful, convinced that danger surrounded her. She was troubled that families and children were present. Her words stirred something inside me.

At first, I was angry.

Then I remembered something uncomfortable: I once stood where she stands.

There was a time when I believed I had the right—even the responsibility—to judge others according to the religious teachings I had received. I grew up in a world where certain people were considered outsiders. Some races were viewed as less than equal. Certain nationalities were distrusted. Certain groups were labeled as sinners before anyone bothered to learn their names or hear their stories.

Looking back, I realize how easy it is to fear what we do not understand.

My thoughts turned to the story of Elisha and his servant in 2 Kings 6. The servant awoke one morning to find enemy armies surrounding the city. Terrified, he cried out to the prophet. Elisha calmly responded, “Do not be afraid, for there are more with us than there are with them.”

Then Elisha prayed:

“O Lord, please open his eyes that he may see.”

God opened the servant’s eyes, and he saw the mountains filled with horses and chariots of fire—the armies of heaven surrounding and protecting them.

Sometimes what needs opening is not the eyes in our heads but the eyes of our hearts.

I also remembered Peter’s vision in Acts 10. Peter had spent his life believing there were people who were clean and people who were unclean, people who belonged and people who did not. Yet God showed him a vision and said:

“What God has made clean, you must not call profane.”

That vision was not really about food. It was about people.

Peter learned that God’s grace is always bigger than our categories.

The church has spent centuries drawing lines. God seems continually intent on crossing them.

Then my mind traveled to Golgotha.

As Jesus hung upon the cross, suffering at the hands of those who rejected him, mocked him, and crucified him, he prayed:

“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34)

Jesus did not respond with condemnation. He responded with mercy.

That prayer challenges me every time I hear it.

I have encountered God in places that some Christians would avoid. I have met God in people whom others called sinners, outsiders, or unworthy. I have seen compassion among those judged as immoral. I have experienced kindness from those some considered enemies. I have found the image of God shining through people whose lives did not fit neatly into someone else’s religious framework.

That does not mean every choice is wise or every action is holy. It means that God refuses to be confined by our prejudices.

The older I become, the more convinced I am that Jesus spent far more time building tables than building fences.

The Gospel repeatedly shows us a Savior who ate with tax collectors, spoke with Samaritans, touched lepers, welcomed children, forgave sinners, and challenged religious people who were certain they knew exactly whom God loved.

The question is not whether God is present among people who are different from us.

The question is whether we have eyes to see Him there.

The Curious Pilgrim has learned that fear narrows our vision, but love expands it.

Perhaps the greatest miracle is not that God opens heaven to us, but that God opens our eyes to one another.

Prayer

Gracious and Merciful God,

Open our eyes to see Your presence in places we least expect. Remove from us the fear that blinds us and the prejudice that separates us from our neighbors. Teach us to see others as You see them—not as labels, categories, or enemies, but as beloved children created in Your image.

Forgive us for the times we have judged before listening, condemned before understanding, and excluded those whom You have welcomed.

Give us the compassion of Jesus, who prayed for His enemies, the vision of Peter, who learned that Your grace knows no boundaries, and the faith of Elisha, who trusted that Your presence was greater than every fear.

Help us to walk humbly, love mercy, seek justice, and welcome others as Christ has welcomed us.

May our hearts become larger, our vision clearer, and our love deeper.

In the name of the One who came not to condemn the world but to save it,

Amen.