Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus

When you are hearing of wars and rumors of wars and you do not know what to do about it, turn your eyes upon Jesus. When you are confronted with the pain of a prodigal in your family, turn your eyes upon Jesus. When you are feeling the deep ache of yet another grief, another loss in your life, turn your eyes upon Jesus. When you are looking at your finances and wondering how you will make it through the week, turn your eyes upon Jesus.

When you are reeling from the word the doctor has given you, turn your eyes upon Jesus. When you are so lonely you can barely stand it, turn your eyes upon Jesus. And when you have come into this space, into this online moment, and it has taken everything in you just to show up because you feel beaten down, turn your eyes upon Jesus.

These words are not sentimentalism. They are not a naïve invitation to reach for a metaphorical comfort in the sky. They are rooted. They are a call of faith.

A direct call to transfer trust away from chaos and trauma, away from what is fleeting and unstable, and place it in the One who can truly help us in every need. And his name is Jesus.

This call is not new. It is ancient.

In Numbers 21, God’s people are in the wilderness, impatient and complaining. They speak against God, longing for Egypt, forgetting the slavery they were rescued from. In response, serpents enter the camp, and many are bitten.

The people cry out: “We have sinned.” Moses prays, and God responds with surprising mercy. A bronze serpent is lifted up on a pole. And whoever is bitten, when they look upon it, lives.

No elaborate ritual. No achievement. Just a turning of the eyes.

Jesus later draws this image into himself: “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up.” The cross becomes the place where this ancient sign finds its fulfillment.

The lifted Christ is the substitute. The One who bears what we could not heal ourselves. And the invitation remains simple: look to him. Turn your eyes upon Jesus.