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The Roman philosopher Cicero (106–43 BC) once said, “The face is a picture of the mind as the eyes are its interpreter.” Sixteen hundred years later, Shakespeare said something similar when he wrote, “The eyes are the window to the soul.” For centuries, then, people have believed that the inner life of a man is disclosed in his eyes. People’s eyes might “give them away” even when their words do not. The idea is that the eye lets information out.
The eye, however, is a two-way window. The light that the window lets out depends on the light that it lets in. This is what Jesus is getting at in the Sermon on the Mount: “The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness” (Matt. 6:22–23, KJV). The eye beholds what the heart loves, and in turn, what the eye beholds the heart steadily treasures. In other words, we behold what we love and we love what we behold. It is for this reason that the Lord Jesus urges a “single eye,” an eye that is disciplined and undivided.
An alarming number of stories in the Bible demonstrate the dangers of assigning too much weight to what the eye can see. Consider the sad story of Lot, which began with a misguided confidence in his fleshly evaluation of reality. When Abram let Lot choose which land to take, we read that “Lot lifted up his eyes and saw that the Jordan Valley was well watered” (Gen. 13:10). The territory that appealed most to Lot’s eyes was replete with wickedness. Sadly, as we see later in Lot’s life, his time beholding the wickedness in Sodom infected his own affections and moral compass (19:8, 33–38).
So it is with all of us. Our affections govern the eye, and the eye sways our affections. King David understood this when he resolved, “I will not set before my eyes anything that is worthless” (Ps. 101:3). Job vowed likewise: “I have made a covenant with my eyes” (Job 31:1). Unfortunately, David fell grievously when he “saw from the roof a woman bathing” (2 Sam. 11:2), and Job erred when he judged things based on all that his eyes had seen (Job 13:1).
The Israelites’ eyes produced unimaginable evil. In Exodus 32, “the people saw that Moses delayed to come down from the mountain” (v. 1), so Aaron fashioned them a golden calf that they could see. Their eyes lusted, and their lust birthed heinous sin.
We would be remiss if we didn’t mention the first sin of the eyes, when Eve
saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, [and] she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate. (Gen. 3:6)
Adam and Eve’s eyes were then opened to realities hitherto unknown (v. 7), and sadly every lust of the eyes ever since finds its origin in that garden. But when the eyes of the heart are enlightened (Eph. 1:18), a new affection is planted in the heart of man. He now loves Him whom he cannot see (1 Peter 1:8), seeks a city that he’s never before seen (Heb. 13:14), and eagerly awaits an inheritance that he has never laid eyes on (1 Cor. 2:9–10; 1 Peter 1:4–5). And yet our eyes are still deceitful. We can all confess with the Apostle Paul that when we want to do right, evil lies close at hand (Rom. 7:21).
Since our hearts are susceptible to going after our eyes (Job 31:7), we must diligently monitor what we set before them. This will include forbidding our eyes from contemplating unwholesome images and directing our eyes to contemplate “whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable” (Phil. 4:8). But how do we do this?
Just after the golden calf incident, Moses came down again from Mount Sinai, this time not knowing that his face was shining with a frightening luster. Moses’ face shone, we surmise, because he had been enjoying fellowship with the Lord. When Moses spoke to the people, his face would shine. But once he finished speaking, he would veil his face (Ex. 34:29–35). Paul refers the Corinthians to this incident to teach them something about the importance of beholding. He writes, “And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another” (2 Cor. 3:18).
This means that as we behold the glory of Christ by faith, we are being made like Him. We are transfigured by our beholding the Lord not visually and immediately—at least not yet—but by faith. We will not enjoy a full, uninterrupted beholding of the glory of Christ until the beatific vision—when we see Him as He is and therefore will be made like Him (1 John 3:2). It will be a blessed day when we will finally become like Him whom we have beheld by faith.
Dear Christian, be careful what you behold, for you will be transformed into its image. This world has innumerable images by which it is seeking to disciple you. But one glance at Christ will be more lovely than all those images combined. Until that day, we behold the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ by faith and through His appointed means of grace, and thereby, slowly but surely, we are being transformed into His image from glory to glory.
For your steadfast love is before my eyes,
and I walk in your faithfulness. (Ps. 26:3)