Sabbath Devotional: We See Through a Glass Darkly

Moroni teaches that “charity is the pure love of Christ” and invites us to “pray with all the energy of heart” that we might be filled with it. He then offers a remarkable promise: that when Christ appears, “we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is.” (Moroni 7:47-48)

Paul makes a similar claim. We may possess knowledge, wisdom, faith, power, and good works, but “if [we] have not charity, [we are] nothing.” He concludes his writings on charity with these words: “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” (1 Corinthians 13)

For a long time, I read these passages as unrelated ideas — charity in one category and spiritual sight in another. But my experiences with conflict and peacemaking have given me insight into how they are directly connected.

Perhaps charity is not only the ability to love another person. Perhaps charity is what allows us to truly see them.

This realization has transformed the way I think about conflict.

The word conflict comes from the Latin confligere, “to strike together.” The image feels fitting. Conflict occurs when our experiences, perspectives, values, and desires strike together. Yet conflict is not merely a collision with another person, it is also a collision with our own incomplete perspective.

When we are “struck together,” hidden things are revealed. The glass Paul describes can become a mirror, reflecting back what I cling to, what I fear, what I protect, what I love, and where I still need healing. At the same time, that same glass can become a window, allowing me to glimpse a reality beyond my own experience.

The challenge, of course, is that we all “see through a glass, darkly.” We view one another through layers of assumptions, past wounds, fear, defensiveness, and certainty. Whether justified or not, these stories often prevent us from seeing the person in front of us. We encounter our interpretation of them rather than the person themselves.

This is one reason I find hope in the many accounts of Christ healing the blind. Again and again throughout the scriptures, He restores sight. These miracles are more than demonstrations of power; they are invitations. Christ can heal not only physical blindness but spiritual blindness. He can teach us to see others with greater clarity — to recognize their dignity, their divinity, and their infinite worth before God.

The story of the rich young ruler comes to mind. Here was a sincere man who desired eternal life but could not bring himself to relinquish what Christ asked of him. It was a moment of tension, competing loyalties, and conflicting desires. Jesus knew the young man's answer before he gave it. Yet Mark records something remarkable: “Jesus beholding him loved him.”

To behold is more than to look. It is to regard with attention, care, and contemplation. Christ saw the young man fully — his faith, his fears, his attachments, his potential, and loved him.

Perhaps this is what charity does. It allows us to behold.

When conflict strikes us together and our differences become impossible to ignore, we are presented with an opportunity. We can remain trapped behind the darkened glass of assumption, fear, and woundedness, or we can ask Christ to heal our vision. This sight does not fix, correct, or right wrongs, but it enables a path that leads to repair, forgiveness, and right relationship.

Victor Hugo famously wrote, “To love another person is to see the face of God.” Again, there is this link between loving and sight. Learning to see others as God sees them may be one of the first steps toward loving them as He does.

Conflict will come into all of our lives. The question is not whether we will experience it, but whether we will invite Christ to open our eyes. Will we let Him transform conflict into a holy encounter?

If we do, perhaps Paul's promise becomes possible: “Then shall I know even as also I am known.” Not only will we begin to see others more clearly, but we ourselves will be more clearly seen in the process. Little by little, through the gift of charity, we learn to see ourselves and others as God sees us.

. . . . . . . .

White steel window by Alberto Lucas Pérez on Unsplash

---

Julie Spilsbury is the faithful root director at Mormon Women for Ethical Government.