"We hunger to see" is our specific Lenten theme this Holy Week. Actually, that was my mantra last month as I made my way to the optometrist for my yearly check-up. "Doc, I'm ready for new glasses," I announced up front. 

 
"No," he said when the exam was completed, "you're ready for cataract surgery!" 

 
"Really?" I tried not to sound shocked. "Which eye?" 

"Both," he said. "It makes no sense for me to prescribe new glasses until your cloudy lenses and cataract are removed." 

 
I've heard from so many who have had this procedure--their vision goes from cloudy to clear. By the time you read this devotion, I'm counting on that welcome transition to be a description of my experience.

At a deeper level, this certainly describes the journey of Mary Magdalene and the other disciples--a journey from the clouds of Good Friday to the clarity achieved on Easter.

The verb "saw," the past tense of the verb "to see" appears six times in this Gospel reading. In each appearance, sight is clouded. For the most part, the eyes of Mary and the others focus on objects. Their initial field of vision reports these objects: "I see...the stone removed; I see...the linen wrappings lying there; I see... the head-cloth rolled up; I see... two angels in white; I see...a gardener." When our focus ends with the objects in view, our mind turns them into evidence that feeds our suspicions of things gone wrong--a stone removed, a burial shroud discarded, strange men where He was placed, a gardener who must have witnessed the grave robbers in their act. Cloudy vision and short-sightedness can describe how we view the trajectory of daily life.

St. Paul wrote of something that cannot be viewed as an object-God's love. We can be blind to this love because we peer through a "glass darkly." When a windshield is fogged, we see only fog. When the defroster removes the fog, and we see clearly, a whole world comes into view before us. Listen to St. Paul: "We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly, just as he knows us!" (I Cor. 13:12, The Message)

When Epiphany members Marvin and Mary Alice Billow's son, Doug, died at a young age, it was hard for them to see past the mist of their tears. A Good Friday type of cloud hovered. They turned to music and wondered if a poet and a composer could tap into a clarity they were sure God had in store. I engaged Herb Brokering for them. Craig Courtney set his poem to music. The published result, "I See, I Hear, I Know," continues to be sung by choirs to questioning audiences appreciative of the clarity the text delivers. Mary Magdalene could have authored the first line: "I see the light inside eternity." She still leads the procession from Good Friday to Easter, from cloudy vision to clarity of viewpoint, with her simple: "I have seen the Lord!"