There is a bit of Narcissus in all of us. We are all lost within ourselves.
When I was younger, I desperately wanted to wear glasses. Everyone in my family wore them: my parents, older sister, and even my younger brother. I felt like I didn't fit in. I was the oddball. I used to try to blur my vision in hopes that one day it would stick and I could wear glasses. Perhaps it worked, or maybe time caught up with me, but it wasn't until I was in my twenties that I started wearing glasses.
Vision is important. It helps us make sense of the world. Some take it for granted, and some have learned to live without it. But at times, vision gets us into trouble. It starts innocently enough. A mirror in the bathroom meant to assist can begin to hinder. The time spent in front of the mirror can lengthen. Primping and preening, we start fretting over our appearance. How do we look? What will others see? And more damaging, what will others think of what they see?
I am not suggesting we smash all mirrors and cry out with the writer of the book of Ecclesiastes, "Vanity of Vanities!" (Eccl. 1:2, KJV) But I think our society has become preoccupied with appearances. We want to make a good impression on others. We change our behavior to impress. Spend a little time watching adolescents, and you can't help but see the effects. Our perceptions of how others view us often dictate our actions.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus takes his audience to task for keeping up appearances: "Be careful not to do your 'acts of righteousness' before others, to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven" (Matt. 6:1). Harsh words from a righteous judge. Now, the acts that Jesus is talking about are indeed righteous––they are things that should be done––but at times, there is something sinister lying just underneath the surface of our actions. What was the motivation for doing the righteous acts? What are our ulterior motives? The gray spaces of life are easy to live in, and one can always find time to rationalize actions, couch them in positive language, and feign sincerity.
But strip away the veil, and you have to admit that most of the time, we live for an audience of one. We desire to be seen in a positive light, and we will do anything to protect our reputation. Even if we don't like to live in the limelight, we desperately desire to be respected and valued by others. We relish a positive appearance and would melt with embarrassment if anybody found out the truth about us.
The Greeks had a character like this that we know all too well: Narcissus.
Narcissus possessed eternal beauty. Those who saw his face fell instantly in love. Yet Narcissus rejected them all until finally, justice was brought upon him. At the river, his reflection brought his downfall. Narcissus could not turn away, and he fell deeply in love with himself. This is where he remains, to this very day, lost within himself. Narcissus not only puts himself at the center of the universe but, more importantly, expects the rest of the universe to follow suit. There is a bit of Narcissus in all of us. We are all lost within ourselves.
What has taken your gaze? What are you staring at that has your attention? Where are your eyes fixed? What thoughts and actions have you enraptured? Where are you engaged in behavior that is not true to who you are? Perhaps it's at work. Maybe it's who you transform into on a Friday night or even the person you try to be when you come to God's house. You know God's expectations, you have heard Jesus' words, and you make a feeble attempt to appear to have it all together. You put on your Sunday best and shake hands with a smile, but inside, you are dying. Or perhaps you feel that you have it all together. You are a pretty good person, and God knows it. You show up every week to church, sit in the same pew, and talk to the same people, and you're delighted that there aren't any pesky sinners in this place.
Jesus desires not that you are seen by others, but that you are seen by him.
But Jesus knows the truth. He knows that you are filled with anger, lust, jealousy, bitterness, and unclean thoughts. He knows you are content in your sin and bold in your judgment of others. No matter how good you think you are, the truth is that you are spiritually blind and hope nobody finds out that you can't see. You try to keep up appearances in hopes that everything will be okay. But it's not okay.
Jesus spoke to those in his day who had this issue, "Woe to you…You blind guides! You, hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside, they are full of greed and self-indulgence. First, clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean…Woe to you… You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men's bones and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside, you appear to people as righteous, but on the inside, you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness." (Matt. 23:24-28)
Narcissus the Pharisee is alive and well.
Jesus desires not that you are seen by others, but that you are seen by him. In your blindness, you have a Savior who comes to you to remove the scales of sin from your eyes, to give you sight, to correct your vision. This is pure gift, all grace. You have been given a divine set of spectacles so you can see exactly what Jesus is up to. It was John the Baptist's disciples who were wondering about Jesus, and when they asked Jesus if he was the Messiah, he replied, "The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor" (Matt. 11:5).
Jesus has taken your gaze to the cross and fixed your eyes on what he has done. So, we can confess with Psalmist, "My eyes are fixed on you, O Sovereign LORD; in you I take refuge" (Psalm 141:8). We find hope in the words of Paul, "We fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." (2 Cor. 4:18). And we can with confidence cry out with the writer of Hebrews, "We fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith" (Heb. 12:2). For Jesus has given you his sight, and his appearance on earth was for a purpose: to bring you into the light.
In Christ, you are no longer transfixed on the sights of this world and no longer captivated and enraptured with physical appearance. Because of Jesus, you can gaze at the appearance of a Savior who corrects your vision, who gives his sight, who sees you as a dearly loved child of God and brings peace, forgiveness, and freedom.
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