The Light of His Eyes

We are grateful to share an excerpt from Mother Iliana’s book “The Light of His Eyes” published by Sophia Institute Press.

Receiving the Kingdom

During Matins one morning, I remembered a scene from the movie Jesus of Nazareth. I grew up watching it frequently, and the scene was vivid in my mind: Salome dancing before King Herod. “What a strange distraction,” I thought, as we were not singing about John the Baptist, or Herod, or Salome, or anything else that might remind me of this scene. Then I came to my cell to pray. I began to read where I had left off in my daily New Testament reading, and halfway through the chapter in Mark, I came across the scene of Salome dancing before King Herod. I was so astonished that this was the very thing I had been thinking about—and was even distracted by—just a few moments earlier, so I made sure to pay close attention to this passage. I was sure God was trying to show me something about Himself. 

The words that struck me were the rash words of King Herod to Salome after her dance: “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom” (Mark 6:23). Immediately this thought came to my mind: “Whereas the children of darkness receive only half of a fleeting kingdom, the children of God receive a whole and eternal Kingdom.”

All the riches of this world are passing away. All kingdoms of this earth will wither away like grass. All the most powerful people—the ones with the greatest wealth or control or learning—will fade like a passing wind. To receive half of their power, you would have to earn your way, even dance your way to the top, so to speak. But, for the children of God, it is so different. He paid the price of our inheritance Himself, with His own blood on the Cross. We do not have to earn our inheritance—we are His children and heirs. St. Paul clearly describes what it means to be a child of God, saying,

For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the spirit of sonship. When we cry “Abba! Father!” it is the Spirit himself bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ. (Rom. 8:15–17) 

This reminds me of a homily I once heard about the rich young man (see Mark 10:17–22). He asks Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. The priest pointed out that this was a strange question, indeed, saying, “You don’t have to do anything to inherit. You inherit because of who you are.” Even the children of this world receive inheritances from their parents, yet even these are entirely fleeting.

This thought, in turn, reminds me of the statue in King Nebuchadnezzar’s dream (see Dan. 2:17–45). All the kingdoms of the earth, represented as gold, silver, bronze, iron, and clay, are utterly destroyed by the stone “cut out by no human hand” (Dan. 2:34). This stone is Christ, and His Kingdom “shall never be destroyed” (Dan. 2:44). I am also reminded of Moses’ exhortation to the Chosen People: “I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse; therefore choose life, that you and your descendants may live” (Deut. 30:19). And again, Joshua exhorts, “Choose this day whom you will serve” (Josh. 24:15). The question is, which kingdom will we choose? Which kingdom will we receive as our inheritance? Will we embrace half of a fleeting kingdom, which looks so comfortable and appealing now, or will we live as people who hope and await the whole and eternal Kingdom of God?

Our Identity under Attack

The answers to these questions should be “no-brainers,” but the problem is that we don’t actually know who we are. Even if some part of our brain knows it, we struggle tremendously to really believe it and to live out that belief. Do we live as children of God, with all that entails? Do we live as beloved, cherished, precious heirs to an eternal Kingdom? 

It’s a problem of a universal identity crisis. Once, when I was on a retreat, I simply sat on the floor and cried out to Jesus, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” He turned and said, “What do you want me to do for you?” (see Luke 18:35–43). I responded spontaneously, “I am covered with wounds. People have mocked me, and I don’t know who I am anymore. I want to be healed. I want to be wholly who you made me to be!” He lifted His hands to me and said, “I have wounds too. Look at what people did to Me. But I know who I am to the Father. I know I am His beloved Son.” Each one of us needs to hear the Father say to us, “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased,” for when the Father sees each one of us, He sees Jesus—He sees His beloved Son. And this, our true identity, is attacked more than anything else. Satan even tries to tempt Jesus Himself to doubt who He is: “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread,” and “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down” from the pinnacle (see Matt. 4:1–11). If Satan does that to Jesus, whom he cannot possibly succeed in fooling, how much more is he doing that to each of us, whom he knows to be so weak, vulnerable, and fearful? 

Author Bio – Mother Iliana

Mother Iliana is a nun of Christ the Bridegroom Monastery, a Byzantine Catholic women’s monastery in the Eparchy of Parma, Ohio. She received her bachelor of science in nursing from the Catholic University of America and her master of science in nursing from the University of Pennsylvania. Ten years into her nursing career, as she was working in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia as a neonatal nurse practitioner, she felt God call her to enter the monastery to become a nurse for souls. She is an iconographer and a spiritual mother, and she often delights her sisters in the monastery with her sense of humor and storytelling abilities.