The Eyes Have It

Three years before we met as freshmen in college, my wife and I had a similar experience. At the age of fifteen we both sat for gifted artists who used pieces of pastel chalk to create images of who they saw sitting before them.

Wendy’s portrait was done in Mexico City by Gordon Wetmore, who would later paint Richard Nixon. My portrait was done at Lohr’s Pharmacy in Wenatchee by Srae Stronach who had painted Harry Truman. Both portraits hang in our bedroom six decades later. Although they are not what the world would consider fine art, they are treasured masterpieces.

I’ve been thinking about portraits a lot lately after having read Theo of Golden by Allen Levi. This fascinating work of fiction, originally self-published by a first-time author, has become a bestseller taking social media by storm. It’s the most meaningful book I have read in a long time.

Without giving away unexpected twists and turns in the story, I can say that Theo, the protagonist, is a man a dozen years my senior whose life has inspired me to be more like him. And the reason is because of the way this fictional character epitomizes the life of Jesus in a contemporary setting.

The story begins with Theo arriving in a university town in Georgia by the name of Golden. He soon discovers a coffee shop where a local artist has hung ninety-two pencil portraits of townsfolk. As Theo contemplates the art all the while sipping his coffee, he looks into the eyes of each person portrayed. He observes the accuracy with which the artist has captured his subject’s context. What Theo sees motivates him to buy each of the portraits and personally present them to the ones whose image is represented inside the frame.

The interactions and friendships that develop in these individual bestowals are more than heartwarming. They are life-changing. What began when Theo gazed into the eyes of the one-dimensional drawings on a coffee shop wall, results in his looking deeply into the hearts of people. People not unlike those who populate our spheres of influence. And based on what Theo sees, he tangibly responds with acts of kindness in the spirit of love.

Recently while on a river cruise through Germany, I saw a fellow passenger who reminded me of my dad’s dad. There was a similarity in the eyes. The next day this man randomly sat next to me in the ship’s lounge. After a few minutes of casual conversation and introducing ourselves, I told him that he looked like my Greek immigrant grandfather. “Looking at your eyes, I see my papou,” I said. “Even though I was only five when he died, I’ve seen countless photos of him in family albums. And you have his eyes.”

To my amazement, Mike told me that his father’s father was a Greek immigrant just like mine. In the moments that followed we began sharing family history. My papou landed in Idaho. His ended up in Utah. The similarities of his grandfather’s story and mine proved remarkable. For the remainder of the cruise, Mike and I spent time together building a foundation of friendship that will likely continue. And it all began by looking at his eyes.

What is observable in a person’s eyes is more than a clue to their ethnic identity. Eyes can convey fear. They can transmit shame. They can reveal hope. Eyes can also suggest loneliness, longing or contentment.

William Shakespeare has been credited with coining the expression “the eyes are the windows into the soul.”  But long before the British Bard put pen to paper, Jesus made the claim that ”the eye is the lamp of the body” in which he meant that a person’s eyes reflect what’s going on inside them.

Be they windows or lamps, the eyes of people we encounter on a daily basis provide us the opportunity to become pupils as we look into their pupils. We have much to learn as students of humanity and Theo of Golden has much to teach us as well. And when it comes to where we can begin, the eyes definitely have it.