The following excerpt goes to the problem of motivation for good works, or the relationship between intent and activity. Fr. Allen starts by talking about the parable of the two sons, where one son tells his father he will go work in the field, and doesn’t, and the other son tells his father he will not work in the field, and does.

In a recent article which I read, I discovered that there was a kind of fish in the Western Atlantic Ocean. This particular genus of fish are odd looking, to be sure. They are called “anableps”, and they received this name because of their eyes. You see, they have eyes which have two tiers, with an upper half and a lower half. With their upper eyes they see above the surface of the water; with their lower eyes they remain focused within the water, like any other fish. They are called “anableps” because that term literally means “those that look upward”. This genus of fish, while totally functioning in their world of water, enjoy a remarkable capacity to participate in a “higher” world, the one above their primary environment. They have a vision - a sight - which is inclusive of both worlds.

But this talk is not about fish. I raise this story, however, because when I stopped for a moment and took careful note of that term, “anablep”, I knew that word. At first I could not recall from where I knew that word, but I knew I knew it! Actually anybody who has done only a little work in New Testament Greek would have the same response as I did.

If you turn to the encounter which Jesus has with the blind man, as he was going on the way through Jericho up to Jerusalem, you will see why I responded in this way. The blind man, Bartimaeus, is a rather belligerent and bellowing beggar who cries out, “Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on me!” As you may remember, they tried to shut him up, but he persisted in his petition. Finally, Jesus himself asks him, “what do you want me to do for you?” Bartimaeus quickly shoots back, “I want to see!” But literally, when Bartimaeus says this, the word he uses, is that same word from which those fish are named. He says: “Anablepso”. When he says this, “anablepso,” he means not only to see again, but it conveys this additional meaning: “to have spiritual sight”, or “to look above.” He was saying, “Yes, I want 20/20 vision”, but realizing who Christ is, he uses this particular term -which he did not have to - but which means, “I also want a spiritual discernment”. His “new eyes”, then, are eyes to see the world around him, but also to perceive the work and will of God in that world. He wants “spiritual sight”. This is true, for how could he see what was made without seeing the Maker?

I say this: like the fish that are called “anableps”; like Bartimaeus who cries out “Anablepso”; the Church, both its individual members and in the corporate sense, needs this fullness of sight to see what is in this world, in this environment, and to sense rightly God’s purpose and priority for the world. To see this way is to love and serve both God and our fellows in true obedience.

Without this double-vision, we will not be able to hold together our intent and our service.

~ from an article at the Orthodox Research Institute by Fr. Joseph Allen, “Intent and Activity”

I love this analogy of the double-visioned fish. Here is a perfect, zoological metaphor for the Christian life — for life lived in the Inbetween.

At first, I thought such an upper-level vision might not be real. A lot of people (including my former self) don’t believe any “upper level” even exists (like Plato’s comrades in the Cave, who are content to see only shadows projected on the wall). Or, if we admit we do “see” something, how do we know it’s not a delusion? The Church warns constantly of prelest. Or, maybe it’s a dream, a construction of the mind based on and made up out of sensory impressions, imaginings, indigestion, and a generally desperate attempt make sense of experiential overload!

No… the Vision of spiritual realities is real, not in every instance, of course, but as a category of real perception, esp. for the saints. In fact, what this Vision perceives is more real, the Really Real. It is that in terms of which everything “below water” ought to be understood and lived through.

But how to maintain this double vision? How to put the sight of the upper level into practice in the lower level? This task I find extremely difficult. The Church talks about approaching the “heavenly and ideal altar” in the Divine Liturgy, quite literally of ascending to heaven. After Liturgy, we descend again back out into the world, and we’re supposed to take our experience of the heavenly realities with us. In the old Roman Catholic parlance, the dismissal of the Mass is: “Now go in peace to love and serve the Lord.”

But there’s a way in which this “descent” is misleading. We ought not to leave anything behind when we go out the doors of the Church. There’s not a transition from one place to another, from heaven to earth. We don’t just “bring our Christian values” out into the world. No! We are called to have constant double vision, always seeing on two levels, never forgetting God, praying ceaselessly. All our existence in the world has to be folded into our primary existence in heaven, in the constant, ever-present Reality of the Above. The anablep fish lives constantly in both worlds. He has eyes for both worlds. He does not rise to the surface, take a look, then descend back into watery depths, merely remembering (trying desperately not to forget!) what he has seen. No! He lives and moves and has his being both above and below, all at once.

Don’t ask me how to accomplish this! I don’t have double vision! But I see now that the reason I find it so hard to “take it with me” is because I’m trying to “leave” heaven. Nope. That’s not how it works. The upper level Vision, the Vision of and Existence (Life) in heaven has to be constant. All our swimming about has to participate simultaneously in both realms.