I have a wonderful moment almost every morning when I drive to Pilgrim Church. As I come up Missionary Ridge on Shallowford Road with the morning sun behind me and arrive at the top of the Ridge, suddenly Chattanooga is spread out before me like a beautiful panorama stretching to Lookout and Signal Mountains. Chattanooga, a city with an historic past, a vibrant present, and a hopeful future; Chattanooga, a city with many promises waiting to be fulfilled for all its diverse people. I often find myself asking, how soon will this happen?

Jesus had a similar moment of reflection on the first Palm Sunday when he reached the crest of the Mount of Olives. Suddenly Jerusalem was spread out before him, Jerusalem the Golden, bathed in the light of the eastern sun. But there is a profound difference between my moment on Missionary Ridge and Jesus’ moment on the brow of the Mount of Olives. What I see brings me a hopeful joy. What Jesus saw brought him to tears. As Luke tells it…

“… when Jesus saw the city he wept over it and said, “O Jerusalem, if only today you could recognize what makes for peace and justice, but you’re blind, your eyes cannot recognize the deeper truth behind what you see.” (My paraphrase of Luke 19:41-42)

What on earth did Jesus mean? I would not presume to put words in the mouth of my Master, but after a lifetime of struggling to understand the Christian faith, I believe I know the sort of seeing faith that Jesus wants from us. Such a seeing faith has three vital characteristics: a profound conviction that God is good, a reverence for all of life, and an ability to see with the eyes of love.

“Live as though you believe in the goodness of God,” wrote medieval mystic Julian of Norwich. Some call this a foolish faith and those who embrace it deluded dreamers. Many people today wrap themselves within the protective cover of a cynicism that has no hope for a better future and certainly no place in this world for a loving God. In our modern world full of holocausts and genocides, violence and tragedy, it is easy to disparage Julian’s faith as a mere platitude of impractical piety. How can such a gentle faith in the goodness of God cope with the suffering, oppression, violence and despair that are so evident in our world?

“Human life is not accidental, wrote wise Rabbi Abraham Heschel:

“… It is a gift from a mysterious and loving source. First, it is an end in itself – loving, enjoying, creating and reflecting the nature of the source. Second, it is directed loving, bearing and creating aimed at unfolding the essential lovingness that is in all of life.”

God already and forever loves us. In Alice Walker’s memorable words, “Any fool can see (God) is always trying to please us back.” God is with us and for us now and always. Nothing we can do will make God love us more or less. We are relentlessly embraced by God’s infinite and seeking love.

But do not mistake this faith for a shallow optimism. In her best-selling book, “Dakota: A Spiritual Geography”, Kathleen Norris, a Presbyterian elder, brought the spirituality of the Plains to the world’s attention. In the vast, windswept empty spaces of the Dakotas she wrote, “We learn to live with a hard reality: nothing lasts. Dakota wisdom teaches us to love anyway, to love what is dying, to love in the face of death, and not to pretend that things are other than they are.” A faith that trusts in a loving God does not deny pain’s reality or unjust suffering as seen in the One who suffers on the cross.

We believe that even in the midst of life’s greatest tragedies, God tirelessly works with us. God presents us with new possibilities we never dreamed of. When we walk through valleys of deep darkness, God walks with us preparing new and brighter days. Never mind that sometimes you cannot see the God who walks beside you. God is still with you and is helping you bear the worst so that you can be a channel of the loving best. That is not a shallow optimism but a profound faith that has been tried and tested and proved in millions of lives. When we believe it we know beyond the world’s knowing that all life has meaning and purpose and dignity and worth. The challenge for us is not in the reality of love, but in our ability to recognize it.

Loving faith begins with seeing. One of the world’s most famous “seers” was Mother Teresa of Calcutta. She saw countless people at the margins of our world, people who had incredible need but whom no one saw, and because they did not see, they did not care. Mother Teresa committed her life to be a caregiver to these, the least of the human family. She saw these desperate people with clear eyes of love. But she saw something else. In one of her spiritual diaries, she wrote:

“Lord, may I see you… in the person of your sick and, while nursing them, minister unto you. Though you hide yourself behind the unattractive disguise of the irritable, the exacting and the unreasonable, may I still recognize you… O Lord, give me a seeing faith…"

Jesus wept over Jerusalem because many of its people could not, would not see. I wonder: when Jesus travels with me every day and sees the city of Chattanooga, does he weep over us because too many of us cannot see?

For me, one of the most challenging passages in the Bible comes when Jesus describes the final judgment on all our lives. The Risen Christ tells the blessed men and women in glory: “You are here because when I was hungry, you gave me food. When I was thirsty, you gave me a drink. When I was lonely and felt no one cared, you made me welcome. When I was naked, you clothed me. When I was ill, you nursed me back to health. When I was in prison, you visited me.”

The blessed men and women in glory are astonished and say to the Risen Christ: “Lord, when did we see you hungry and give you food? When did we see you thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you lonely and welcome you, or see you naked and clothed you, or see you ill or in prison and visited and cared for you?”

The Risen Christ will answer them: “Whenever you showed compassionate love to someone in need, you were serving me.” (Matthew 25: 34-40 paraphrased by David Brown.)