First light
1 Sm 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a; Ps 23: 1-3a, 3b-4, 5, 6; Eph 5:8-14; Jn 9:1-41
First light. That’s a term coined by astronomers to describe the very first image that is captured by a new telescope. Given the complexity of research telescopes in the modern era of astrophysics, these instruments can cost hundreds of millions of dollars. Decades in the making, they represent the peak of many scientists’ and engineers’ entire professional careers.
The importance of first light cannot be overstated. As the first image is being downloaded, the observation team anxiously gathers to see the outcome. Almost always, that first image is … a fuzzy blur. Complete disaster? Hardly!
Far from being a disappointment, that blur is cause for great joy, for at least it proves that the telescope is collecting light — it “works,” in the broadest sense of the word. Once first light is achieved, then the more mundane, though absolutely critical, work of calibrating and focusing the instrument can begin.
This might sound very logical, but it requires the wisdom of experience to appreciate the process. Whenever there is a large initial investment of time and resources, there can be an overwhelming tendency to expect instant gratification and to make rash judgments due to fear of failure or disappointment.
Seasoned scientists know to temper their first reactions, be they positive or negative, by the sober, sometimes monotonous follow-up work of collecting further data, making corrections and measuring outcomes.
I’ve often thought that the methodology of first light — i.e., the expectation that an initial impression will necessarily be incomplete and perhaps misleading, requiring careful subsequent assessment and correction — is a fitting metaphor for proper discernment in the Christian spiritual life.
We set our goals, devise our plans and follow our timelines as if we were in control of our own destinies. We might pay lip service to the truth that we need to be open to the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
We have certainly been told that our perception of reality can often be clouded by attitudes of selfishness, shame, jealousy or bitterness. But to actually possess the spiritual restraint and discipline to seek out and wait for God’s input is much easier said than done.
In our first reading this Sunday, Samuel is presented with a kind of first light as he is asked by the Lord to identify which of Jesse’s sons will become the new king of Israel. One can only imagine the impact of being assigned such a monumental task: The future of Israel lies in Samuel’s hands.
At least, that’s the subtle seduction, and we see the dangerous potential being realized as the reading progresses. As Samuel sizes up Jesse’s son Eliab, he draws the conclusion that “surely the Lord’s anointed is here.”
What Samuel hears from the Lord in reply is the spiritual equivalent of what a master astronomer might say to a graduate student apprentice: “Not as man sees does God see, because man sees the appearance but the Lord looks into the heart” (1 Sam 16:7).
In the Gospel we find another first light. Like a new telescope, the healed blind man registers images for the first time in his life. The Pharisees, whose retinas work just fine, are also presented with a first-time image as they are confronted with the words and action of Jesus.
Ironically, it is not the healed blind man but the sighted Pharisees who fail to appreciate and properly assess what is before them. Guided by their own worldview, which is blurred by jealousy and hypocrisy, they refuse to recognize the truth unfolding before them. To do so would require a compete recalibration of their moral and spiritual lenses.
As a spiritual exercise during this fourth week of Lent, try identifying your own version of first light in your life. It might refer to a recent incident or it could be a relationship or memory that you have been living with for years.
If the situation doesn’t seem right to you, if it feels “blurry” and unfocused, then maybe you’re the one whose heart needs to be recalibrated. Pray for patience and humility to accept a new clarity of vision.
God wants you to see reality even more clearly than NASA does.