Recently, Tom’s son sent me some photographs because we were looking for some “different” types of things to sell in our storefront at Merino’s Mill. Truthfully, I expected great photos, what I did not expect were sacred moments.
There was something in them that caught my breath—not just beautiful images, but glimpses into the sacred ordinary.
One photograph in particular—of a spiderweb—made me stop scrolling through the album.
Typically I hate spiderwebs. I REALLY hate them when I’m walking onto the dock and before I see them, they are engulfing my face, my hair, in my mouth – you get the point.
But through Zach’s lens, that spiderweb transformed into something breathtaking. The morning dew clung to each silken strand, catching light like strings of tiny diamonds.
Who knew Charlotte had such talent?
In those moments I was struck by Zach’s gift. It’s rare.
Eyes that truly see beneath the surface of things to their essence, their holy reality.
Theaomai involves the whole person—it is contemplative seeing, wonder-filled beholding, perception that penetrates beyond surface appearances to the sacred reality beneath. It is seeing infused with reverence, attention, and receptivity to mystery.
I wonder how our spiritual journeys might transform if we approached each day with the intention to practice theaomai rather than merely seeing.
What might we discover in the faces of those we love if we truly saw them?
What might be revealed in the scripture passages we’ve read a hundred times if we gazed with wonder rather than familiarity?
What aspects of God’s character might become visible if we cultivated this sacred art of seeing?
The contemplative traditions have long understood that transformation happens through attention.
As the psychologist Carl Jung observed,
“Your vision will become clear only when you can look into your own heart.
Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.”
Theaomai invites both—a penetrating gaze inward and a wonder-filled gaze outward.
Jesus often invited His listeners into theaomai—a way of seeing that transcends information gathering and initiates transformation. He knew that until we truly see, we cannot truly change.
For when we practice theaomai, we begin to understand what the mystic Meister Eckhart meant when he wrote, “The eye through which I see God is the same eye through which God sees me.”
For Reflection:
How might the practice of theaomai transform your relationship with creation? With other people? With scripture?
Consider a person you see regularly but perhaps don’t truly “see.” How might you practice sacred beholding with them this week?
In what ways has your perspective been transformed by truly seeing something you previously overlooked or dismissed (like the spiderweb in the photograph)?
Prayer: Creator of spider artists and starry skies, of dew drops and dimples, help me see anew! In this world that has me constantly scrolling but rarely seeing, teach me to stop, blink, and really SEE what You’ve placed before me. Show me the extraordinary hiding in my ordinary. And as I practice this sacred seeing, let me catch glimpses of You in unexpected places. Amen