Blast Shields, Cups, and Trees
By Anthony Casperson
1-24-26
In the 1977 film, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, audiences witness Luke’s early training with the Force.
One such scene occurs just after the Millennium Falcon had escaped the port of Mos Eisley. Here, Obi-Wan has Luke practicing with his lightsaber in order to block blaster shots from a little floating droid. Practicing, and failing.
Handing Luke a helmet with a blast shield covering the area that his eyes would be, Obi-Wan tells the younger man to put it on and try again. Luke scoffs, saying that with the blast shield down, he’d never be able to see the incoming shots. But here, the Jedi mentor explains a certain aspect of the Force.
“Your eyes can deceive you. Don’t trust them.”
The point Obi-Wan intends to give is that Luke should let go of his perception of the world around him, and trust in the external truth of the Force. He should let the Force guide, rather than his own faulty senses.
While I’m not advocating for all of us to be guided by the Force, I do believe there is some truth to Obi-Wan’s words. Our view of the world around us has the possibility of deceiving us to the reality of it all.
Perception can obscure truth.
In western culture, where the idea of truth being bound up with one’s perception—the philosophy that advocates “my truth” and “your truth” existing simultaneously—my previous statement might seem inaccurate. However, I believe an exercise might help us understand.
And you can perform this exercise yourself, if you want to. All you need are two cups of the same kind and some water.
Let’s say that you take two cups that are of the same size and shape. Then, you take some water and pour it into one cup, enough to occupy half of that cup’s available volume. With the two cups in front of you, tell me which cup is more full than the other.
You’re probably looking at me funny right now. But if you’ve played along, you’ve likely said that the half-full/half-empty cup is more full than the one without water in it. (No, I’m not working toward the test of optimism/pessimism.) Our perception of reality tells us that the cup with water is more full than the other.
However, that answer is wrong.
In truth, both cups are just as full as the other. Completely to the brim. One has its volume taken up by half water and half air, while the other is completely full of air. As a matter of fact, the cup that our culture would colloquially refer to as “empty” is more full of air than the one which only has half of its volume containing air.
And this is where our understanding of perception comes in. We’ve been taught by our culture to refer to the second cup as “empty” because the container doesn’t hold something we perceive to be worth carrying. Yet, in reality, it does hold something valuable—especially to someone running out of breath.
We’re taught by others to refer to this state of reality by a sort of local shorthand—a cultural colloquialism—despite the fact that it doesn’t speak to the reality of the situation. We say that it’s empty, when it is really full of air.
Another example of this shorthand is found in the description of how the sun “rises” and “sets” despite the fact that it’s the rotation of the earth bringing our part of the planet into/out of the direct line of the sun. It makes sense from our perception, from our limited place on earth.
But these statements obscure the reality of the situation.
And this obscuring effect builds all the more when we try to place value in our perception rather than reality beyond us.
If you don’t believe me, think about this. When I explained that the cup which our cultural colloquialism would call “empty” was actually full of air, a change occurred. But where did that change happen? Did a once-empty cup suddenly have an influx of nitrogen, hydrogen, oxygen, and other similar elements? Or, did your perception change in order to understand the state of reality beyond you?
Honestly, the change happened in our perception. For the entire time that the one cup sat in front of us, its state of being full of air remained the same. Yet, in our minds, it transferred from being considered as empty into being full.
It was our perception that obscured the reality of fullness that the cup was from the beginning of this example. Our senses deceived us from reality. We were blind to the truth of the situation because our worldview denied it.
This means that our perceptions, our worldview, cannot create truth. Rather, all it does is give us a framework to understand the reality around us—a framework that often blinds us to that very reality itself.
But then, because of this understanding, we have to admit that there is a reality—objective and external—that exists as truth. Something beyond us and our culturally-driven perceptions.
We seek understanding of the world around us, yet the desires of our hearts attempt to protect us from being found in the wrong. We blind ourselves to our failings by selfishly applying faulty perceptions of truth.
Philosophies, worldviews, and religions have long attempted to define who/what this external truth is, where it comes from. And while it’s not my purpose in this blog to convince you of which way is the right one, I will say that a biblical worldview does explain the core idea driving this blog that our perceptions can blind us to reality.
The bible speaks of this obscuring of truth in Jeremiah 17:9. The Creator of the universe says that the human heart is deceitful. It’s incurably sick. None can know it.
When God says that the heart is “deceitful,” he means that it is intentionally deceptive. The word carries with it the idea of attacking an opponent at the heels. Ambushing them with cunning craftiness.
But more than that, since it’s connected with the Hebrew word for “heel,” this deceit has the idea of fighting dirty. It’s like a person grinding their heel into the skull of another laying on the ground.
Human hearts—fallen humanity, that is—are bound to seek for anything that grants the self a higher standing. A better position. We deceive, even ourselves, so that we can look good when compared to others. We can say, “At least I’m half full, unlike that empty person,” despite the fact that truth speaks to something very different.
And this deceptive heart is something that we can’t fix by ourselves. Jeremiah 17:9 says that the heart is “desperately sick.” Incurable by standard human means. It’s like a terminal illness that we’re just waiting to kill us.
But again, it’s incurable by human means.
This is where the context of the verse comes in, the place where we get to witness reality from the perspective of external truth. Jeremiah 17:5-8 speaks of two kinds of people who are represented by two different plants. One led by their heart, and the other by something external to them.
The first is the person who places their trust in human-derived perspectives and worldviews. This is the one who sees nothing but emptiness in the cup. Their heart deceives them to reject Yahweh. They turn away from what they perceive as emptiness, and toward the ambush of their own heart.
Verse 6 speaks of them as a shrub in the desert. The specific shrub here is a particular desert shrub that has leaves so small that they look like scales. As a matter of fact, this shrub gets its name from the word for “naked” because even when it is in full bloom, the plant looks like it’s leafless and naked.
The plant might consider itself a mighty tree in full bloom, but to anyone on the outside, it looks like a tiny little dying plant that is about to match its deadly surroundings.
Opposed to that shrub-like person, verses 7-8 speak of one who puts their full confidence in Yahweh, instead of their own heart’s perception. They are called blessed. And compared to a tree planted beside water. Their roots reach under the surface for the source of life. And that life is proven in their lush green leaves.
Even in the midst of drought surrounding the land, because of that reliance on something outside of them, they have no need to fear or worry. The anxieties of desert life need not affect them because the truth flows to them. And the fruit of their works prove their fullness.
They are, in reality, a tree in full bloom. All because they don’t rely on the deceptive perceptions of themselves. Rather they allow the truth of God flow through them.
You see, Obi-Wan had it mostly right. Our eyes can deceive us. But it is the Lord—not the Force—that guides us to truth.
And the application can be easily transferred. Don’t listen to our heart’s deceptive perception. Allow the Lord’s ways to flow through us.
So, let’s quit listening to our culture’s colloquial statements that deny reality. Instead, let’s put on the blast shield. Realize the fullness of the second cup. And be the tree planted beside water, full of life.
When we shift to God’s perspective, we can find the reality of a full life. The problem is letting go of our deceptive hearts, and then holding onto the reality of God’s ways.