I have looked into your eyes with my eyes. I have put my heart

“I have looked into your eyes with my eyes. I have put my heart near your heart.”
So spoke Pope John XXIII, the “Good Pope,” whose brief but luminous papacy opened the windows of the Church to the world. These words, tender and timeless, were uttered not from a throne of power, but from the throne of compassion. In them we hear no command, no doctrine, but a whisper of divine intimacy — the recognition that to truly understand another, one must not stand above them, but stand beside them, heart to heart, soul to soul. It is a sentence simple in form, yet infinite in meaning: an image of empathy, of human closeness, of the love that bridges all separation.

Pope John XXIII lived in a century darkened by wars and divisions. Yet he saw beyond the fear and ruin of his time to a deeper unity — the oneness of all mankind before God. When he said, “I have looked into your eyes with my eyes,” he was speaking as one who understood that true leadership is not dominance but presence. To look into another’s eyes is to see their suffering and their dignity; to “put one’s heart near their heart” is to share in that suffering, to love without judgment or distance. In those few words, the Pope defined the very essence of compassionate leadership — that power must be tender if it is to heal.

The origin of this phrase lies in his pastoral encounters — in the way he lived among people, not apart from them. Pope John was known to visit hospitals at night, blessing the sick and speaking softly to those who lay dying. Once, when meeting prisoners in Rome, he told them, “You could not come to me, so I came to you.” His presence brought tears to men hardened by years behind walls. That was the living embodiment of his words — his eyes meeting theirs, his heart touching their hearts. To him, every person, whether pope or prisoner, bore the divine image; to honor that image was to draw near with humility and love.

The ancients, too, spoke of this sacred nearness. The Stoics said that to live rightly is to act in harmony with the soul of others, for we are all sparks of one great fire. The mystics taught that to see God, one must first see the divine in man. Pope John’s words echo this eternal truth: that compassion is not pity but communion. It is to behold another being not as an object of charity, but as a mirror of the same light that burns within oneself. To look into another’s eyes with one’s own is to dissolve the illusion of separateness — to know that their joy and pain are also your own.

We see this truth reflected in lives of great love. Mother Teresa, for instance, would lift the dying from the streets of Calcutta and gaze into their eyes as though seeing Christ Himself. She did not turn away from filth or despair; she drew closer. When asked how she could bear such suffering, she said, “Each one, each one, is Jesus in disguise.” Her work was the echo of Pope John’s sentiment — eyes meeting eyes, heart touching heart, until compassion transformed both giver and receiver. For in the end, to love deeply is to recognize oneself in another, and thus to bridge the distance between heaven and earth.

To live by these words is to choose closeness over indifference, understanding over fear. Each day offers us countless chances to look — truly look — into another’s eyes. The child seeking comfort, the friend bearing grief, the stranger forgotten by the world — each one waits for a glance that says, “I see you. You are not alone.” And to place one’s heart near another’s is not grand or mystical — it may be as simple as listening, forgiving, or holding silence when words are not enough. In such moments, we become instruments of peace, vessels of the love that Pope John saw as the true power of humanity.

So remember, O child of spirit, that the greatest miracles are wrought not in cathedrals or councils, but in the quiet encounter between hearts. Look into the eyes of others as if they were sacred mirrors, and you will find the face of the divine looking back. Put your heart near their heart, and you will learn that love is not a feeling but a presence — the breath of God passing from one soul to another. For as Pope John XXIII knew, when eyes meet and hearts draw near, heaven itself bends down to listen, and the world, for a moment, becomes whole.