One of the themes running through Shakespeare’s work is the conflict of appearance and reality. He was the first to tell us that “All that glitters is not gold,” and he again reminded us that “Every cloud engenders not a storm.” In trying to tell us that things are not always as they seem, the bard said, “Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.”

It is sometimes good for us to reflect on the themes of great literature because their truth isn’t always limited to a certain time or people. And we, much more than the people of Shakespeare’s day, are living in a world of false images where reality is hard to sort out from appearance. It’s a world where a political candidate’s hairstyle may prove more important to his campaign than his stand on the issues. It is a world where we know one another so superficially that for some our best friends are those flickers of a colour on a television set. It is a world where our dream homes are the slim facades of a Hollywood movie set. A world where we put on fronts because we are uncertain people will like us without our veneer.

The great danger in all this is that we may become so confused between appearance and reality that we put our faith and time in the temporary, rather than the eternal, spending a lifetime chasing cotton candy realities. It is too easy to equate the importance of a person with his visibility, the meaning of a job with its notoriety. We may let those things which seem the most pressing pull us away from the things which are most important. We may begin to think that power is wealth and influence, rather than personal integrity.

It was Rudyard Kipling who said, “Lo, all our pomp of yesterday, Is one with Ninevah and Tyre,” two cities which have utterly vanished from the map.

Appearance and reality, if only they would label themselves so we could clearly recognise them and act accordingly. But appearance has a way of seeming immediate, important, demanding. And reality dressed in simple clothes fades quietly into the background. We rarely have time to stop in our running and ask, “What really matters in the eternal scheme of things?”

Thus, there is the father who misses his child’s first piano recital, but not his business meeting. There is plenty of time for a mindless magazine, but not the scriptures. We learn to envy those who are served, not those who do the serving.

But one day when our eyes are clear, appearance with all of its false gaiety and self-seeking will take a final curtain bow and reality will take its rightful place centre stage.  Then we will know if we have put our faith and time in their proper place.

Long ago, the prophet Samuel was taught: “. . . the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.” This passage of scripture is familiar to many.  But, like Samuel, we may find it difficult at times not to be distracted, or even misled by appearances.

Samuel was struggling to find a replacement for King Saul when the Lord gave him this counsel: “Look not on the countenance, or on the height of his stature,” but rather look on the heart. He was still mourning the downfall of this great leader when, as prophet, he was commanded to anoint a new king.  At that point in time, looking on the heart of any other man even a future king required the opening of his own heart.

And so, it goes for each of us.  Think how our lives are enriched when we choose to look on the heart, and when others look on ours.  How we value the friend who at first seemed so different from us, but who we took the time to get to know.  How we cherish the family member who sees past our shortcomings and never fails to find goodness in us.  For who we are on the inside how we think and feel, matters so much more than what we appear to be.

Appearances can be deceptive, to be sure.  The clothing we wear, the company we keep, the car we drive, the house we occupy are all outward measurements that can keep us from each other’s hearts.  They allow for quick and easy classifications.  But the stature of a person’s soul is so much more difficult to qualify, let alone discern.

Henry David Thoreau had much to say about looking deeper: “We know but few men,” he wrote, and “a great many coats and breeches.”  So often, our evaluations of each other don’t extend far past coats and breeches.  But, as Thoreau decides, “. . . if my jacket and trousers, my hat and shoes, are fit to worship God in, they will do, will they not?”

Certainly, the Lord is less concerned about outward appearances.  His all-seeing eye penetrates the very heart and discovers there the greatest treasure.  He sees goodness, because He is good.  He knows truth, because He is truth.  He discerns real love, because He is love.

The more our own hearts are full of His goodness, truth, and love, the more we will be able to see as the Lord sees and really look on the heart.

By Samuel Enos Eghan