The sermon urges us to focus our attention on God, allowing His light to clear our vision and transform our hearts, actions, and perspective.
Friends, have you ever tried to read with smudged glasses or looked through a windshield streaked with grime? You can see, but you can’t see well. Colors dull. Edges blur. You miss what’s right in front of you. Life can feel that way, can’t it? The calendar fills up, the news churns, the phone pings, and our souls pick up a film on the lens. We move, but we don’t notice. We look, but we don’t truly see. And then Jesus steps in with a tender word about our eyes—about the way we take in the world, the way our attention crafts our affection, the way our gaze shapes our days.
He isn’t scolding. He’s shepherding. He knows that what we stare at begins to steer us. If our eyes are clear, we see God’s gifts with gratitude, people with compassion, and the future with hope. If our eyes are clouded, we trudge through the day with a dimness that drains our joy. What we watch, what we want, what we fix our focus upon—these things quietly compose the soundtrack of the soul.
Martin Luther King Jr. once wrote, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that.” Light changes everything. A nightlight in a nursery. A headlamp on a mountain trail. A sunrise after a long, anxious night. When light arrives, shadows scatter, fear loosens, and we can finally see what was always there. No wonder Jesus talks about our eyes. He wants to bring light where fog has settled. He wants to steady our steps, sweeten our thoughts, and warm our worship.
So let’s slow down together. Let’s ask simple questions: What am I looking at most? What am I letting into my heart through my eyes? What if my attention became an altar where God’s light could rest? Jesus offers a kind, clear path—the kind that doesn’t shame us but shows us a better way to see.
Before we begin, let’s hear his words and let them wash over us.
Matthew 6:22–23 (ESV) “The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, but if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!”
Opening Prayer: Father of lights, we come with eyes that tire easily and hearts that are quick to wander. Clear our sight. Clean the lenses of our souls. Where our attention has chased lesser things, lead us back to you. Let your light flood our minds with truth, our affections with purity, and our wills with courage. Holy Spirit, focus us—help us see Jesus as more beautiful than anything else. Make our eyes honest, our hearts humble, and our steps hopeful. As we listen to your Word, let light rise within us until shadows have no place to hide. In the name of Jesus, the Light of the world, Amen.
Jesus says the eye is the lamp of the body. He is talking about how we take things in. He is talking about the inner light we live by. He is showing us that what we look at shapes who we become. When our sight is sound, gladness follows. Our lives grow plain, steady, and whole.
In his day, the word healthy also meant single and generous. Single means focused, steady, without a split inside. Generous means open, large-hearted, ready to give. That kind of eye brings light in. It does not squint or hide. It is simple in the best way. It looks at God and says yes. It looks at people and sees persons, not tools or threats. It looks at things and keeps them as things, not masters. When the look is single, the self becomes single. What you think, what you feel, and what you choose start to line up. That brings relief. You are not pulled apart inside. You do not have to play a part. The smile on your face matches the tone of your heart. The laugh is real. The tears are real. You do not clutch, scheme, or pretend. This is why joy grows. Joy likes clean air. Joy likes rooms without hidden walls. Joy likes an honest gaze. A healthy eye lets that kind of air in. It turns your inner house into a bright place. You can walk without guessing where the chair is. You can speak without checking ten times what mask to wear. You can worship without noise in the head. You can love without keeping score. A single eye makes a single life. A generous eye makes a generous life. Where there is sincerity, joy has room to sing.
The image of a lamp helps. A lamp does not create the sun. A lamp receives and places light where it is needed. Your eye does that for your whole self. It lets light in and spreads it. Light touches your thoughts. Light steadies your feelings. Light warms your will. When you fix your gaze on what is true, your step learns the way. When you set your attention on what is noble, your speech gains weight. When you watch what is pure, your desires quiet down and find rest. Think about a normal day. You open your phone in the morning. You can rush to noise, or you can read a few lines of Scripture and lift a simple prayer. You drive to work. You can stew over old hurts, or you can name three gifts you see with your own eyes. You sit in a meeting. You can scan for how to win, or you can look for how to serve. You eat dinner. You can watch faces at the table, ask one real question, and listen. Each small choice is a turn of the lamp. Each look sets the brightness of the room inside you. Over time, you stop stumbling over the same fears. You stop hiding from the same truths. You stop saying yes with your mouth and no with your eyes. People around you notice. Trust grows. Peace settles in your chest. You begin to expect good, not because life is easy, but because light is near. The path does not need to be perfect to be clear. A lamp does its work even in a storm.
Jesus also warns about a sick eye. In the Scriptures, a sick or evil eye is a phrase for a tight spirit. It is stingy. It envies. It looks sideways at others and feels small. It stares at what is forbidden and grows restless. It sees only what is wrong and grows harsh. That kind of eye closes the shutters. The room dims. Thoughts get tangled. Motives turn blurry. Words grow sharp or fake. Even smiles feel heavy. Jesus says, “If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!” That line is sobering. It tells us that sight can lie. It tells us that we can call something bright that is actually dim. It tells us that the heart can learn to love what drains it. When that happens, joy fades. The laughter is loud, yet empty. The day is full, yet thin. We move fast, yet feel lost. Sincerity slips because we have trained our eyes to want the wrong things. We begin to look past people, not at them. We begin to treat God as a tool, not a treasure. We begin to clutch stuff as if it will save us. This does not mean we are beyond help. It means we need help that begins with sight. We need God to open our eyes again. We need him to show us what we have been staring at. We need him to make us honest about it. He can do that. He loves to do that.
So how do we keep a clear eye? We ask for it, and we make room for it. Start with a simple prayer each morning. Lord, give me a single eye today. Make my look clean and kind. Then choose one small habit that turns your gaze in the right way. Read a psalm aloud before you touch your inbox. Step outside at lunch and thank God for three things you can see. Put your phone face down at the table and look at the person in front of you. When envy rises as you scroll, bless the person you envy. Say it with your mouth. God, give them more. That blessing loosens the grip of a sick eye. Give money in a quiet way to someone who cannot pay you back. The Scriptures tie a healthy eye to generosity. A good eye shares. A good eye notices needs. A good eye leaves margin to meet them. This will clear your sight faster than you think. Confess quickly when your eyes wander in ways that harm you or others. Ask a trusted friend to check in about what you watch and how it shapes you. Curate what comes before your face. You do not have to take in every image that knocks. You can shut a screen. You can pick a book. You can choose to gaze at creation, at faces, at words that give life. At night, review your day with God. Where did I look with faith? Where did I look with fear? Where did I see you, Lord? Thank him for light. Ask him to clean what is cloudy. Go to sleep with that ask on your lips. Over weeks, your inner room brightens. You find yourself telling the truth faster. You find yourself enjoying small things more. You find yourself free to weep and free to laugh. That is joy. That is sincerity. It grows where light is welcomed.
A clear eye also shapes how we handle pressure. Deadlines will still come. Bills will still need to be paid. People will still be people. A sound look does not remove hard things. It helps you meet them with an honest heart. You can name what is hard and still see what is good. You can take the next right step without acting like you are fine. You can ask for help without shame. You can give help without pride. Your yes means yes. Your no means no. You stop using words as a veil. You let your face match your words. Others feel safe with you. They know what they are getting. That stability is a gift to your home, your church, and your work. It is also a gift to your own soul. Integrity is not a show. It is a daily walk with the light on. You see where you are. You see who is with you. You see where God’s hand has been kind. That sight feeds gladness. Even small wins taste sweet. Even slow progress feels worth it. Even quiet faithfulness looks beautiful. The eye is the lamp of the body. When the lamp is clear, the whole house glows. When the house glows, life inside it starts to sing.
Listen to the warning in his words ... View this full PRO sermon free with PRO
Sermon Central
