By Kris Baker
•
January 13, 2026
READING Mute Potato by Billy Collins Before introducing it to a pot of boiling water I caught a medium-size Idaho potato staring up at me with several of its many eyes. WORDS OF HOPE I bet you are wondering why we are talking about a potato. It’s not so much the potato that is important here; rather it is the eyes of that potato. The “eyes” of a potato are growing points. As long as they are dormant, they cause no harm when ingested. However, once these buds become green and and begin to grow, they produce the toxic compound solanine. Though toxic, preliminary research has found solanine also to be an anti-inflammatory, antibacterial, and anti-cancer agent. Darkness and light. The eyes of potatoes are so-called because of their resemblance to the structure of human eye. Have you ever looked up at the clouds and seen a face? Or seen a face in vegetables? On the moon? In paint swirls or textures on a wall? This phenomenon is called pareidolia, meaning that the brain is perceiving a recognizable shape, often a face, in abstract visual stimuli. Think about the toast on which people see the face of Jesus. This phenomenon of finding eyes and seeing faces on random objects is part of our human defense system. It helps us with social cues and in detecting the threat of predators, the theory being better to perceive eyes that prove to be safe rather than miss those that are dangerous to us. In his poem Mute Potato , Billy Collins simply acknowledges that he saw the eyes of the potato. It is up to the reader to decide what he saw in those eyes. Matthew 6:22-23 from The Message reads, “Your eyes are windows into your body. If you open your eyes wide in wonder and belief, your body fills up with light. If you live squinty-eyed in greed and distrust, your body is a musty cellar. If you pull the blinds on your windows, what a dark life you will have!” During the holidays, I received Holy Communion several times from a relatively new Episcopal priest. After the first time, something didn’t feel right, but I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what was wrong. The second time I received communion from this person, it felt like the communion wafers were being dealt like playing cards at a black jack table in Vegas, quickly and with a subtext of keep your hands moving. It was after my third encounter with this priest that I finally figured out what was causing my discomfort. They did not make eye contact with me or anyone else that they were communing. “If you open up your eyes wide in wonder and belief, your body fills up with light…”. I was surprised at how much such a seemingly small thing affected my spirit as I partook of the sacraments. Reflecting on my experience, I think at some level I felt like I was holding my hands up to the darkness rather than reaching toward the light. As I walked away from the altar rail, my initial feelings were that I had been gypped, that somehow this experience was less than what it could have or should or what I wanted it to be. Then, from that darkness, loudly came a message. If we are to be the hands and feet of Jesus on earth, we also need to have the eyes of Jesus, eyes wide open to truly see the people on earth as Jesus sees us. As Christ-followers, we don’t have the luxury of closing our eyes to avoid seeing those in front of us or the pain, the destruction, the injustice, the inequality, the corruption, the hatred…the muted potatoes…all around us. We must keep our eyes wide open to be an effective conduit for God’s love. We can’t serve others as did that close-eyed priest. “Keep my commands and you will live; guard my teachings as the apple of your eye.” Proverbs 7:2. Did Collin’s see open or closed eyes when looking at that Idaho potato? Maybe the better question is what did the potato see when looking up at Collins?” And what do we see when we look at the “pot of potatoes” in front of us each day? It’s better to see a pareidolia than overlook the face of a single child of God. PRAYER God of light, open my eyes so that I will see and acknowledge all that you have created. Help me to be Your light in this dark world. Amen. DEVOTION AUTHOR Kris Baker Order of St. Francis and St. Clare