Where The Eye Leads

Passage: Isaiah 26:3

I hate rubbernecking. With absolutely no data to support it, I am certain that more accidents are caused by rubbernecking than tailgating.

Not long ago, I was walking through my neighborhood. One of my neighbors was out with his son, who was showing off his brand new skills at riding a bicycle without the training wheels. The little boy was very serious about his business, riding his bike. And then, he saw me. I must have been fascinating, because he stared at me. He was entranced. Fixated. He was totally focused on me, until I had to dive out of the way because he was going to run me over.

He went where his eye led.

In today's passage, we are plunged in the middle of a song of praise to God. The song is in response to an enthusiastically graphic description of the end of the world. The bad guys come to justice, the good guys are restored, all is finally right and good.

They sing of perfect peace those who trust, those who fix their thoughts on God.

It's so easy to sing of...so hard to do. Like rubbernecking. Here is a once in a lifetime opportunity to see real drama from a safe distance that doesn't actually involve me. Of course we want to look. The twisted cars, people in distress, telling black marks on the pavement, shattered glass fragments scattered like diamonds. I find myself trying to imagine how it happened. And I want to look.

But if I do, I won't be looking at the road in front of me anymore. Which is where I want to go. And which, presumably, contains any number of cars I am also not watching, but am heading toward. That split second of inattention and suddenly, the drama very much involves me.

So I don't look. At least, when I'm remembering where my eyes are supposed to be.