By Jim Nichols

There are eight items on the fireplace mantle. In the center is the ticking clock that is approximately accurate. The other seven items are photographs of grandchildren. One of those photos sits on top of the clock and will be there for the current week. The other six are to the left and right of the clock. On Sunday, the grandfather will replace the photo on the clock by another of the six for the subsequent week. The grandchildren photos are in rotation with someone different working their way to the top each Sunday.

Other photos are scattered throughout the house, as you probably have also. Some are even in bedrooms. 

The rooms of hospital patients often contain family photos. They are rich sources of conversation-starters for chaplains. “Tell me about this photo.” That generally elicits extensive explanation.

Photographs are magical to me. They contain information and stimulate memories. Even the material aspects of the photograph fascinate me.

In our world of computer-based electronic digital cameras, we forget that photography has a physics and chemistry background. Two historical developments led to the world of photography. Those are (1) the ability to focus images through lenses and (2) the discovery of chemicals that are visibly altered by exposure to light. 

Uncle Max, like many in his generation, pieced together a family income. He drove a newspaper route with an old pickup truck. Mounted in the truck was a machine that unwound a short section of white string, wrapped it tightly around a rolled paper, and tied it in a knot. He then threw it out the window into the subscribers’ yards. It was a fascinating machine to a visiting adolescent boy.

He was also a professional photographer (weddings, portraits, posed families). He added a business in which other customers would use special mailing envelopes and send rolls of their own film to him to develop, print, and return to them.

Best of all, he had a darkroom in his basement. With red lights that allowed only low visibility and a nearly suffocating concentration of developing chemicals, he performed magic by a multi-step process of developing the film.

Photography may be one of the best of human inventions. Think what it has added to the world in personal, national, and international history as well as story-telling—all through images initiated not just by professionals, but by you and me.

There are parallels between photography and spiritual life worth considering.

Accurate photography depends on accurate lenses. In a general physics class students learn about concave and convex lenses and begin to understand how light waves can be bent, blocked, or re-directed. Translating that information, lens grinders of the past perfected methods to finish glass in such a way as to be able to minimize distortions, and images could be magnified and focused. The eyeglasses many of us are using right now are the result of this craft, as are telescopes and microscopes.

Spiritual focusing is also necessary. We are surrounded by multiple distortions. When I was a child at a local fair, I entered a room with mirrors that made my body look thin or fat, short or tall. In real life, the distortions are more subtle, but potentially tempting and damaging. Many of our options seem not only reasonable, but attractive and positive. Experience has taught us to sift and focus through life options and make sure our choices are accurate for us as God’s people. This is no small task.

Not only is correct spiritual focusing necessary, but also discernment. Just as the darkroom chemicals, as aromatic as they are, slowly begin to reveal the images on the paper, so our spiritual lives process and evaluate aspects of life that are initially invisible but become apparent only with experiences and understanding discernment. We practice recognizing what is real in life and what is false. We learn to tell the difference between truths and lies. When we make mistakes, we use what we have learned to do better next time.

You and I know this is an imperfect journey, but it is what we as God’s people have been called to. The abilities to focus and discern are keys to our spiritual growth.

Jim Nichols is a retired Abilene Christian University biology professor and current hospital chaplain