Climb a few hundred feet up a nearby hill. Gaze across the plains at the mountains one hundred miles away. Your own hill looks bigger than the mountains! It’s a matter of perspective: the closer an object is to us, the larger it appears. Even the streetlight above you looks bigger than the moon.
Fly over that great mountain range at a height of 30,000 feet and it looks interesting, spread out, far below. Stand in the valley and look up, and the view is awe-inspiring. Walk along the valley, among the towering peaks. They are so vast, so majestic, that we become overwhelmed by their powerful magnificence. We are so insignificant. We take refuge among the trees, amid the delicate flowers, beside the creek, with the water bubbling over the rocks, the mountains blocked from our view. This is more comfortable. We can relate more easily to this scale. It’s a matter of perspective.
The point so evident in nature is seen in other areas of life. Pick up the newspaper and read of thousands of people killed in a natural disaster far away. We are distressed, but detached. Perhaps we pray for the return of our Lord. But we soon turn the page, moving to the sections where we feel more comfortable reading about sports or entertainment. If, however, we later learn that a friend was visiting that far country and is among the fatalities, our perspective changes dramatically. This is now much closer to home. If a neighbor’s child is killed in an accident, we weep with the parents and provide emotional support and practical assistance. To such a tragedy we can personally relate.
We also view matters differently in relation to time. Today’s flu virus bothers us far more than does a nasty burn or broken arm of fifteen years ago. This year’s burden presses on us more heavily than last year’s problem, now resolved.
Consider the changing perspective of Asaph, revealed in Psalm 77. “I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, that he may hear me. In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord; in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying; my soul refuses to be comforted” (vs. 1,2 RSV, as are all quotes). Count the occurrences of “I,” “me” and “my” in the first six verses. Something very close to Asaph was looming large. In verses 7 and 10, he expresses his despair: “Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable?” Things were looking bleak indeed.
Then his perspective changes. “I will call to mind the deeds of the LORD; yea, I will remember thy wonders of old. I will meditate on all thy work, and muse on thy mighty deeds.” Having raised his eyes above, he remembers the exodus. “Thy way was through the sea, thy path through the great waters; yet thy footprints were unseen” (v.19). Here is the perspective we need. This is the insight that puts all our experiences into proper relationship to the eternal and to the divine. “For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, because we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen; for the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal” (2 Cor. 4:17,18).
Ponder the divine perspective. God is not confined as we are by the boundaries of time and space. “For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past…” (Psa. 90:4). “The pillars of heaven tremble, and are astounded at his rebuke” (Job. 26:11). The infinite Creator is inherently immortal and boundless in power. To us, such concepts are overpowering, far beyond our feeble comprehension. Yet we are exhorted, “Cast your burden on the LORD, and he will sustain you…” (Psa. 55:22). “Cast all your anxieties on him, for he cares about you” (1 Peter 5:7). What an amazing revelation regarding the divine perspective. This should help us adjust our own, with profound gratitude for His wondrous grace.
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One