Eyes to See: Glimpses of Heaven

Windows to Heaven

A few days ago, I was leaving early for a breakfast meeting. Stars dotted the clear night sky and I could hear the local rooster crowing his anticipation of dawn. Moving slowly through my neighborhood, I passed the house where my daughter and son-in-law live with their five children and noticed dim lighting with two silhouettes in their front room. Turning around at the end of the street, I returned and stopped in front of their house. On queue, One Republic’s anthemic Heaven, popped-up on the radio:

When the room don’t like us
I’ll be at your table
Yeah I’ll be sitting next to you
And when the world ain’t righteous
It’s raining Cain and Abels
I’ll be trying to dance with you
Oh everybody feels alive
So just one more time before the morning comes
Oh everybody feels alive

Through the big window, I could see my daughter and her daughter sitting in the living room, candles flickering along the wall and a soft light from the room beyond, outlining their forms. Reagan appeared to be reading (or was she singing?) and her mommy sat near her, likely holding her baby sister, now a few weeks old. The little girl was gently swaying and she occasionally glanced toward her mom.

Everyone they say that we don’t work
But I could swear this is heaven, yeah
Everyday I know that this might hurt but I don’t care
This is heaven, yeah

Everything about the scene was quiet, calm, magical. The exchange between mother and daughter was subtle and warm…without effort. They were caught in a moment of their own beautiful ordinary and the world had completely stopped, or more likely, had not yet started. I watched for a minute, wondering if they might notice the car’s lights but they were perfectly content to live, oblivious to my interruption, in each other’s company.

I drove off to meet my youngest son and his two boys for breakfast thinking to myself, This is heaven, yeah.

Of course, it’s not. There are plenty of Cain and Abels running around. But we occasionally get a glimpse of heaven in the beauty of the world around us. Sometimes the clouds clear and the night sky opens up to the moon and stars perfectly aligned. We get to encounter those special people who grace our days with their unique presence, and in that moment, we get to peer through the glass, past the veil, and into the deeper more of perfect joy.

Seeds of the Word

Later that evening, we settled-in to finish the last episode of the 2020 series, Ted Lasso. Late to the game, we were unmoved by the hype around the show when it was first released, but we started watching about 60 days ago and found ourselves quite taken with it.

American college football coach, Ted Lasso, is hired by England’s AFC Richmond soccer team as head coach…though he has no experience with European football. We come to find out that his hiring is actually part of a scheme of revenge upon her ex-husband by team owner Rebecca Welton. The surprises continue from there and for three season, we watch as this goofily sincere optimist named Ted Lasso provides a persistent and entertaining counter-cultural example that draws all into his unique version of what it means to be a good human being.

I’ll offer no spoilers here as the magic of this series deserves to be observed directly. In short, I found the show to be incredibly touching and, despite its creators’ efforts to remove any hint of religiousness, I see elements of my own Christianity writ large across its characters, situations, and ultimate message. Despite plenty of cringeworthy moments, the seeds of the Word appear repeatedly. We get glimpses of the truth even if if it isn’t always revealed directly or reverently. At the center is a man who is imperfect but true; he stays true through the entire series. Even when he is broken.

From start to finish, Ted Lasso exhibits forgiveness, humility, honesty, and willing the good of the other – even his enemies. This hokey coach from Kansas is frustratingly humble, often to the point of what looks like letting people walk all over him. In the face of name-calling, laughter, and scorn from fans, players, and the press, he takes it all, consistently responding with a smile, a witty, self-effacing riposte, or a word of encouragement. It takes all three seasons, but in the end, Lasso’s mercy, goodwill, and unflappable optimism, have conquered the doubt and cynicism of even his biggest haters.

Eyes to See

Ours is a world of tension. We frequently find ourselves pulled by what the world around us tells us is right or true or necessary and what our heart and conscience pull us toward. Many of us live in the conflicted paradox of the “all” of life: having it all, doing it all, giving it all, juggling it all. Notions of success hound us with the things we should desire, the way we should look to others, our titles, our resumes, our headlines,…even the accomplishments of our children. We have a cultural fixation on what it is to be accomplished and that internal conflict we feel reflects our sense that we are blind to something more important.

But it is all there if we will but look. The glimpses are all around us. Windows into beauty abound when we open our eyes. There is truth and goodness, even holiness, when we pause for a moment to let it come into focus. Suddenly, we find ourselves peering through a window into a candlelit room where purity and innocence gathers to start its day, inviting us to feel it acutely and remember what truly matters.

One of Ted Lasso’s final gifts to his audience is a note on the cover of the draft version of being written by Trent Crimm entitled The Lasso Way. “One small suggestion. I’d change the title. It’s not about me. It never was. Ted” I think that is truly a glimpse of heaven.