O, Say, Can You See?

In one of his cartoon strips, Charles Schultz, the creator of Peanuts, has Lucy, Linus and Charlie Brown all lying on a hill looking up into the sky. Lucy says, “If you use your imagination, you can see a lot of things in the cloud formations. What do you think you see, Linus?”

Linus, ever the egghead and intellect, answers, “Well, those clouds up there look to me like a map of the British Honduras in the Caribbean. And that nexus of clouds over there reminds me of the profile of Thomas Eakins, the famous painter and sculptor. Oh, and that collocation of clouds over there gives me the impression of the stoning of Stephen. I can even see Saul of Tarsus standing to one side.”

“Very good!” answers Lucy, so impressed with such an erudite reply. Then, turning to her other compatriot on the hill, she asks, “And what do you think you see, Charlie Brown?” Quite intimidated by all this, Charley answers, “Well, I was going to say that I saw a ducky and a horsy, but I changed my mind.”

Poor, Charley Brown, not able to see! And there are others just like him. After the Russian cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin went hurtling through space, he declared what had been true for him before the launching of his spacecraft—he couldn’t see God! This now-famous cosmonaut had just been to outer space—seeing a dozen sunrises and sunsets in a single day—but, by his own admission, he hadn’t seen God.

And yet when the American astronaut John Glenn orbited the earth, he declared upon landing, “Everywhere I could see God.”

Isn’t that interesting? Two men. Both had been to outer space. But one saw God and the other didn’t.

Not everyone is like Gagarin, the Russian cosmonaut, because down through the years men have journeyed across land and sea, have climbed to the tops of mountains, have followed yonder star, and have even attempted to build a tower to Heaven—all for one reason, to see God!

“Sirs, we would see Jesus,” implored certain Greek scholars of long ago. “Oh, that I knew where I might find him,” the psalmist cried out. “Lord, show us the Father,” was Philip’s one request. Indeed, even the great Moses asked this, as the highest of all favors.

In response to this centuries-old desire, Jesus issued an invitation to two men walking a dusty road one day, saying, “Come and see” (John 1:39). Later, these same words, “Come and see,” constituted Philip’s invitation to Nathaniel (John 1:46) and the woman of Samaria’s plea to the villagers (John 4:29). In fact, these words, “come and see,” came to be the basis of the entire apostolic message. “That which we have seen with our own eyes declare we unto you,” the Apostle John said (I John 1:3).

Seeing God—this is the purpose of every prayer, the motive for every meditation, the will behind all worship, and the force behind all faithfulness. Seeing God—the highest and greatest of all human desires! To those who do see the Lord, remarkable rewards will result.

Moses saw him, and that theophany enabled him to endure what seemed impossible (Hebrews 11:27).

Isaiah saw him, too, and instantly it brought this prophet to the most radical of confessions (Isaiah 6:1, 5).

Elisha also saw him and was suddenly and supernaturally comforted (II Kings 7:15-18).

Stephen saw him just when he most needed to see him, and by this supernatural viewing was empowered to exhibit death-defying courage (Acts 7:55-60).

And, yes, we, too, can see God, and in so doing have our once bogged-down life transported from “glory to glory” (II Corinthians 3:18).

Yet, John Milton had it right when he said, “There are none so blind as those who will not see.” Illustrating this point, David Watson tells this true-life story that took place in his native country, England. In a locale where public debates were common and where fiery rhetoric was often unleashed, the following scene played out between a scorner and a believer.

A man once stood on a soapbox at Hyde Park Corner, pouring scorn on Christianity. “People tell me that God exists; but I can’t see him. People tell me that there is life after death; but I can’t see it. People tell me that there is a judgment to come; but I can’t see it. People tell me that there is a heaven and hell; but I can’t see them ….” He won cheap applause and climbed down from his “pulpit.”

Another struggled on to the soapbox. “People tell me there is green grass all around; but I can’t see it. People tell me there is a blue sky above; but I can’t see it. People tell me there are green trees all around; but I can’t see them. You see, I’m blind!”

Spiritual blindness certainly accounts for many who can’t see. This caused the poet Whittier to write:

A Tender light than moon or sun,

Than song of earth a sweeter hymn

May shine and sound forever on,

And thou be deaf and dim.

Forever round the Mercy-seat

The guiding lights of love shall burn:

But what if, habit-bound, thy feet

Shall lack the will to turn?

What if thy eye refuse to see,

Thine ear of Heaven’s free welcome fail,

And thou a willing captive be, 

Thyself thy own dark jail? 

What then?