There’s just a moment when she hesitates to get onto the escalator, even though I think I’m in a hurry. A tinge of anger forms in my heart, and I know that, if this moment were to be suspended forever, I wound be a murderer.

There’s just a moment when I wish for silence and I want to silence the man playing music on the side of the street. A tinge of anger forms in my heart, and I know that, if this moment were to be suspended forever, I wound be a murderer.

There’s just a moment when the ticket collector on the bus doesn’t understand my Anglophone accent speaking Thai. I think she should have, though I am in no clear position to judge, and a tinge of annoyance forms in my heart. I know that, if this moment were to be suspended forever, I wound be a murderer.

Hatred, the Gospel tells us, is like murder. The devil, the Gospel tells us, was a murderer from the beginning. It’s horrifying to discover, in experience, what these words means. It’s horrifying to go deeper and deeper into these mysteries and uncover just how out of order our own house has become!

Horrifying, but not devastating.

Discovering this within oneself would be utterly terrible, utterly devastating and debilitating, if it were not for the fact that it is only by seeing with Jesus’ eyes that we ever uncover just how much we all are or could be murderers. When we see with Jesus’ eyes just how deep evil and sin run in the rivers of our hearts, we may be – indeed, we should be – horrified and repentant – but we are not afraid. We are in God’s hands. We are seeing with God’s eyes. Why should we fear? We just let the Spirit cry, “Abba! Deliver us from evil. I’ve seen it, and I turn to you.”