Seeing God with New Eyes
Today is Holy Trinity Sunday—a day we set aside every year to reflect on the mystery of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It’s one of those doctrines we profess often, but let’s be honest… it can be hard to understand. Three Persons, one God? How does that work? And even more importantly—what does it mean for us?
Most of us, without realizing it, carry around a kind of distorted picture of God. We might picture Him like a boss we have to please or a judge keeping a list of everything we’ve done wrong. Maybe we even think of Him as a demanding ruler—someone distant, watching from above, waiting for us to mess up.
That’s not the Father, Jesus came to show us.
We’ve heard the phrase: “God is love.” And we agree, in theory. But deep down, we sometimes think, “Well sure—God loves me… as long as I behave.” We imagine His love turning off like a switch the moment we make a mistake. Why? Because that’s how we often treat each other. We’ve experienced love that’s conditional. Relationships where if we mess up, we’re pushed away. And we project that onto God.
But the Trinity tells a different story.
The Trinity reflects that at the very core of God’s being is relationship. God isn’t a solitary force floating in the clouds. He is communion—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, in perfect love and unity. That’s who God has always been, before creation ever existed. Love didn’t start when God created us. Love is who God is.
And here’s the incredible part: that same God invites you into that relationship. That’s why He sent His Son to fetch us home. That’s why Jesus came—not just to teach us a few moral lessons or hand down another set of rules—but to bring us home. To draw us into the very life of God.
But even that can get twisted in our minds.
We hear Jesus say, “Love God with all your heart and love your neighbor as yourself,” and we think, “Okay, here come more rules again. How can I love my neighbors like myself? Have you seen the political party sign in their yard?”
pause
We hear His commandments like warnings instead of what they are—invitations.
Following Jesus isn’t about earning love. It’s about living in the freedom that love makes possible. The commandments aren’t prison bars. They’re more like road signs, words of Wisdom, showing us the way to real joy. When Jesus says, “Come, follow me,” He’s not recruiting rule-followers. He’s inviting friends into a new kind of life.
I had cataract surgery not too long ago. You don’t realize how clouded your vision has gotten until one eye is fixed and the other isn’t. They fix one eye first and then you come back two weeks later for the other to be replaced. I remember looking at the world with my new lens—colors were brighter, whites were really white, everything had a crispness I didn’t know I was missing. I didn’t expect it. I didn’t know how dull my vision had become. How yellow things had been tinted.
That’s kind of what it’s like when we begin to see God clearly. When we finally understand, in our heart, that God’s love is not something we earn, it’s something we receive. When we begin to trust that Jesus didn’t come to burden us, but to lift the burden from us. That shift changes everything. Suddenly, we see ourselves differently. We see others differently. We see the whole world in a new light. A brighter light. Not because it changed but because we are now seeing the world with the Holy Spirit sharing the wisdom of God.
Jesus didn’t come to tighten the chains. He came to break them. He came with the keys to our freedom—not freedom to do whatever reckless thing we want, but the freedom to become who we were always meant to be. Children of the Father. Brothers and sisters in the Son. Vessels of the Holy Spirit.
You and I—we’re travelers on a journey. We’ve packed some good things along the way. But we’ve also packed a lot of junk—fear, pride, resentment, wounds we’ve never let go of. And it weighs us down. It dulls everything and shuts out God’s wisdom.
But Jesus shows up, and like a brother sent by the Father, He says, “Let’s go home.” And not only that, He helps us unpack. He says, “You don’t need this fear anymore. You can let go of this anger. I’ll carry the pain with you.”
And when we finally stop clinging to our baggage, stop listening to the lies of this world, and let Him lead, something amazing happens. The Holy Spirit begins to clear away the fog. We find ourselves loving people we never thought we could love. We begin to forgive what we thought we’d never forget. We see beauty in places we used to overlook. That’s not just willpower. Or positive thinking. That’s the Spirit of God at work.
It’s not always dramatic. Sometimes it’s quiet—like a gentle breeze where there used to be a storm. But it’s real.
And we begin to see what the Trinity has to do with our lives:
We were made in the image of a God who is love.
We were made for relationship—with God and with one another.
No one was created to walk alone. No one is meant to live without love.
And no one is beyond the reach of God’s mercy.
So, if today we’re feeling tired, or burdened, or unsure where we stand with God—know this: He hasn’t moved. He hasn’t withdrawn. He’s still reaching out. He’s still inviting us into His love.
The truth is, our world desperately needs that love. Look around. People are hurting, afraid and so divided it is tearing us a part. I have had two different parents tell me their children have verbally attacked them over politics. Siblings and family are estranged.
So, we are called—not just to receive God’s love—but to share it. To reflect it. To be like clean lenses helping others see more clearly what they’ve been missing.
So today, on this Holy Trinity Sunday, let’s ask God to give us new hearts filled with his wisdom, and new eyes. Eyes to see His goodness. Eyes to see the world with compassion. Eyes to recognize that every person we meet is someone God is calling into relationship too, just like He called us.
That’s our mission. That’s the Good News.
Deacon Tony Pynes 