We begin, again, with the beautiful prayer of a 16th Century Spanish nun, St. Teresa of Ávila:

Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours. 

             — St. Teresa of Ávila

Having Jesus’ feet implies a willingness to go—to be moved by God. Our Savior was willing to go anywhere to teach, preach, heal, and make disciples. We, too, should be willing to go to where lost and hurting people are, even if that involves risk. But going isn’t enough. What happens when we get there?

Friends, we also need the eyes of Jesus. But what does that entail?

I’ll begin with Brandon Heath’s “Give Me Your Eyes”—a 2008 song that has inspired and challenged me since the first time I heard it. In the video, he’s returning from a trip and is about to land. 

Look down from a broken sky

Traced out by the city lights

My world from a mile high

Best seat in the house tonight

Have you been there? Flying home. Feeling good. Window seat. The man looks down on his beautiful home city all lit up.

Touch down on the cold black top

Hold on for the sudden stop

Breath in the familiar shock

Of confusion and chaos

All those people going somewhere

Why have I never cared

In an instant, the peace and serenity turn to chaos and confusion. He’s surrounded by humanity. People are scrambling to make a connecting flight or retrieve luggage. Troubled expressions in every direction. Something inspires the man to look at them, to really see them, perhaps for the first time. 

Give me your eyes for just one second

Give me your eyes so I can see

Everything that I keep missing

Give me your love for humanity

Give me your arms for the broken hearted

The ones that are far beyond my reach

Give me your heart for the ones forgotten

Give me your eyes so I can see

Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah

The man appeals to God to open his eyes to hurting people—the broken-hearted, the ones forgotten; to see them and love them like Jesus did. He exits the airport with a new set of eyes.

Step out on a busy street

See a girl and our eyes meet

Does her best to smile at me

To hide what’s underneath

There’s a man just to her right

Black suit and a bright red tie

Too ashamed to tell his wife

He’s out of work, He’s buying time

All those people going somewhere

Why have I never cared

The man notices a hurting girl on the street who is hiding something underneath. Who are the people around us who are “hiding what’s underneath”? He doesn’t just notice the distraught man in a suit. He goes deeper, imagining what could have brought the man to such despair. Christians, do we care about these forgotten people? Do we even notice them?

Give me your eyes for just one second

Give me your eyes so I can see

Everything that I keep missing

Give me your love for humanity

Give me your arms for the broken hearted

The ones that are far beyond my reach

Give me you heart for the ones forgotten

Give me your eyes so I can see

Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah

The man is asking God for a second chance and a new perspective—to be able to see people the way Jesus did… to notice them at grocery stores, while waiting for the bus, on the back pew, or just people we pass on the street. He’s asking for Jesus’ eyes.

I’ve been here a million times

A couple of million eyes

Just move and pass me by

I swear I never thought that I was wrong

Well I want a second glance

So give me a second chance

To see you the way you’ve seen the people all along

Jesus’ eyes noticed things. He picked up on big things—the lame, the demon-possessed—but also on the subtleties. When Jesus looked at the people he met, he didn’t judge them by the standards of the day. He looked beyond the outward circumstances of their lives—circumstances that invited condemnation from the religious leaders and the community—and showed them love. 

Consider Jesus’ compassionate exchange with the woman caught in adultery or his interactions with Zacchaeus, the tax collector reviled in his community. Or how about when He went to a well at noon and had what for many would be an awkward, difficult conversation with an outcast Samaritan woman who had had five husbands and was living with a man not her husband.

One commentator mentions that Jesus brought “sandpaper” to each situation, but it always had just the right amount of grit. He could love, challenge, encourage, and motivate… all in the same interaction.

We need to not only be willing go to go to challenging places (the feet of Jesus), but notice things once when we get there (His eyes). I’ve got work to do here. I’m not nearly as perceptive as my wife, Janet. While driving home after worship services, she’ll ask, “Did you notice David wasn’t himself today?” I’ll reply, “David was at church today?” While I’m focused on the impressive way the preacher has organized his sermon, my wife is noticing people. I need to do a better job at noticing who’s here, who’s missing, and how the people who are here are doing.

That’s having the eyes of Jesus. Your head is on a swivel. You’re paying attention.

At a recent men’s retreat, I asked the attendees to close their eyes. I then asked them what was red in the room. Only one of them knew. He pointed in the direction of his friend who was wearing a red shirt. I then asked them to open their eyes and look for red. It was all around them! They pointed at a red cup, an American flag, various items of clothing, and other things. You see it’s easy to notice red when you’re looking for it. And it’s easy to notice the needs of those around us—the ones forgotten—when we wake up every morning with the eyes of Jesus.

What if we each took the chorus to “Give Me Your Eyes” and made it our life’s motto?

Give me your eyes for just one second

Give me your eyes so I can see

Everything that I keep missing

Give me your love for humanity

Give me your arms for the broken hearted

The ones that are far beyond my reach

Give me you heart for the ones forgotten

Give me your eyes so I can see