In part, the installation was to counter act the residue of Satan’s mirror left over from the fall. Satan majors in distorting reality. I will come back to the mirror and window analogy in a moment.
As a kid, my parents introduced me to my dairy farmer cousins, Joe and Mary Young. True story—they live just outside of the village of Hope, New Mexico. I still remember Cousin Joe’s lesson on cows and milking. Each of his tit-laden mooing friends came in the black and white color.
To my utter astonishment, he knew each of his 250 black and white coated critters by name. Through the eyes of a young city boy, all “Holstein Milkers” looked identical. For me it was a set of 250 twin cows.
Quickly, I learned how little I knew. He identified his milk producers by unique designs in the hide pattern and by individual personality traits.
God’s creation is unique. No two creatures are identical.
Like all of God’s handiwork, I am unique. I am not an exact pattern of anyone in history. God designed my life to be uniquely me a subject serving under the sovereign Trinity.
When living at my God-given best I function as a window.
God designed holy windows to illuminate dark places. There is one catch. For my window to serve its purpose I must live in face-to-face relationship with God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. Only then can I be a participant in allowing glimpses of God to shine through my life to others.
By a change in posture, I can be a murky mirror instead of a light enhancing window. It only takes allowing my face to turn in a direction—even for a moment—away from the Holy to miss the chance of being an instrument in the hand of the living God.
In contrast to my window, my mirror tends to reflect warts and untruths that cling to me from walking earth’s streets. Along the way, I pick up beliefs and actions from my earth culture and street culture. Funny, how I can mistake so much of my acquired thought for truth.
Not always is Jesus easily apparent in the reflection looking back from my mirror.
Far too often, I am afraid I reflect religion and tradition rather than a window to the cross.
The glare from my warped mirror can produce two tragedies.
The first is fatal. Lost people can miss Jesus because they are looking at my image rather than that of the savior God. I project religion instead of Jesus.
Likewise, the second tragedy is regrettable. A foggy mirror causes division in the Lord’s church.
My highest desire must be to keep face-to-face communication with the Holy. By so doing I can serve as a window to heaven for those like me who struggle to see and know the only God who loves them.
Don’t you think our world could benefit more from light than blur?
Gary J. Sorrells – Reflecting on Cross Church