Perspective

History has never been my subject.  Yes, I learned all the important dates and the kings and queens of England in their proper order, but only for the test after which all was promptly forgotten.  I did enjoy the aspects that dealt with individuals and their cultures and their reasonings, and also perhaps, the grand overview, the broad sweep, but the drudgery of this fact and that fact, and oh, don’t forget this fact, bored me to tears.  What I really wanted was a chance to look at all sides of events and issues.  I remember checking a historical fiction book out of my high school library which dealt with the American Revolution from the British point of view. Thoroughly enjoyable, and as I learned about the events of that time from a different perspective, I was motivated to learn and retain more about what had happened.

As human beings, shaped by the fall into sin of Adam, we are fallible.  We are limited in our perceptions.  Our perspective can be very narrow.  However, there are the other sides, other perspectives, which do not change the truth, but give insight into the thoughts, emotions and reactions of other people ranging from the differences of male and female thought processes, of the rural/city divide, the range of politics from liberal to conservative, the vast differences between the nations and cultures of the world.  It can be outside our comfort zone to try to step into another’s shoes in any of these situations and we can never fully understand all the factors that may have shaped another’s point of view, but it can be invaluable to gain even a small insight into them.

The overarching comfort is that God’s perspective is infallible, omniscient, eternal.  And because he is omniscient and omnipotent, we can rest fully on him for wisdom and strength.

The end of one of my eras

When today’s younger generations think of the 1960’s, the youth of their parents or grandparents, the images of “sex, drugs and rock’n’ roll” are pretty pervasive.  For some, those were the reality, but for a large portion of the young people growing up during that era, their lives were fairly prosaic.  Yes, the times they were a changin’, but the greater impact had not been felt.

I graduated from Apple Valley High School in Southern California in 1970.  But while San Francisco (and surrounding areas) was a hotbed of hippies coming of age, our small corner of the high desert was quite behind the times.  Drugs were mostly consumed at rich kids parties, the ones left unsupervised for weekends at a time.  Rock music was played on the school buses, but bands often still wore suit coats and ties.  Girls still wore skirts and dresses to school, though hemlines were shorter, to be sure.  Jeans were still working gear and not fashion statements.  Rioting was occurring elsewhere, but respect for teachers and authority still pervaded our school atmosphere.

Our high school was new my tenth grade year.  It had been built as a grouping of separate buildings around an open quadrangle.  The overhangs were deep to accommodate outdoor lockers – not much rain in the desert.  Ninth grade was included with seventh and eighth grades at the local junior high and the twelfth graders chose to stay at with their classmates at the previous high school for their senior year, so for that first year, there were only tenth and eleventh grades.  Our class was just over 200 students, not too large, not too small.  We had the usual assortment of teachers, ranging from the history teacher who had pretty much already checked out to the English teacher who expected and got great things from his students.  The students were also predictably varied--the jocks, the nerds, the in crowd, the outsiders, the average ones.  I played the bassoon in concert, marching and jazz bands (great fun), took part in speech tournaments (results meh), played on the tennis team (I was terrible), got good grades, had friends of all sorts, and generally made it through unscathed.

But all good things must come to an end.  Graduation was held on the football field with a podium facing rows of chairs and the chairs facing the bleachers where family and friends would sit on  a very sunny June afternoon.  Speeches were made, diplomas were handed out and congratulations given.  Our days at public school were over.

However, that wasn’t quite the end.  The highlight for most of us came that evening when we boarded big yellow school buses with our dates, or our friends, and headed 2 hours over the Cajon Pass on Route 66 to Disneyland.  After closing, the whole park became a playground for the graduating seniors from several schools for the entire night, chaperoned of course – and with a dress code.  The Matterhorn, the Pirates of the Caribbean, the Haunted House, all the rides were open without the usual long lines.  Different artists and bands were playing the various venues, Jackie DeShannon being the only one I can remember.  Restaurants were open; we ate at the one inside the Pirates of the Caribbean ride.  The hundreds of lights illuminated the park throughout the night and  made it magical.  Good memories.

Heading east the next morning as the sky was brightening, we were indeed leaving our years of public education behind and looking ahead to the dawn of our future.

The Spectacular and the Memorable

One of the most spectacular (if not the most spectacular) events in time and space had to have been when God created light.  Imagine total darkness.  TOTAL darkness.  No sun, no moon, no stars, no firelight, no electric lights.   ^“And God said, ‘Let there be light’, and there was light.” (Gen 1:3)  How amazing that moment must have been.  We can’t even begin to imagine even one moment in darkness as black as that must have been.  One might say that perhaps someone who is blind would know that type of darkness, yet they have felt the warmth of the sun on their skin and heard descriptions of light in its many forms.  Even a windowless room without artificial light would still not equal the darkness that was before God created light.

There is another darkness upon which a great light has dawned—the darkness of sin. “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone.”  (Isaiah 9:2)  Though not as outwardly spectacular, the coming of the light of the gospel into the heart of a sinner more than equals the wondrous creation of physical light.  So many Bible phrases emphasize the darkness, the lostness which has characterized men and women since the fall of Adam—“The heart is deceitful above all things” (Jer 17:9), “None is righteous, no, not one” (Rom 3:10), “For out of the heart come evil thoughts” (Matt 15:19) and many others.  But God sent Jesus, the Light of the world to cast out sin and darkness and give faith, repentance and the glorious light of the gospel, to change the hearts of sinners.  How spectacular. How personal.

Now to the memorable.  There have been two memorable instances in which physical, created light was captured in a special moment for me.  The first was driving over the mountain from our house outside of Landisburg to Carlisle (PA).  The day was sunny and beautiful.  As I crested the mountain, the Cumberland Valley was socked in with clouds and I was above them.  It felt as though my car had become a small plane and I was soaring in sun and blue sky while the earth remained below shrouded by clouds.  As I descended the mountain and entered the cloud bank, I could only repeat over and over—“Oh, wow!”  What an experience.

The second memorable “light” moment occurred on an early summer evening.  Usually evenings are spent at home, but on that occasion, I had been out shopping.  As I left the store and turned to go to my car, the view at the end of the strip mall was nothing short of amazing.  The sun had just set, leaving the sky overhead a deep navy blue while across the horizon was a strip of lighter blue which gradually faded into the dark sky above.  Silhouetted against that was on large tree with a crescent moon just to the left and the evening star above its tip.  Again, I found myself saying, “Oh, wow!” and marveling that the others hurrying around me did not even seem to notice.

One generation shall commend your works to another,
    and shall declare your mighty acts.
 On the glorious splendor of your majesty,
    and on your wondrous works, I will meditate.
They shall speak of the might of your awesome deeds,
    and I will declare your greatness.

 They shall pour forth the fame of your abundant goodness
    and shall sing aloud of your righteousness.

Psalm 145: 3-7  ESV

Desert Impressions

My first impression of the high desert?  Somewhat vague. I'd just turned 9 and we were moving from Long Beach, CA to Hesperia about 100 miles inland via Cajon Pass between the San Gabriel Mountains and the San Bernardino Mountains on Route 66.  So many changes--new house, new school, new surroundings, probably more than my 9 year old brain could really comprehend at the time.  I remember brown instead of green, cold instead of warm.  Long Beach at sea level was warm and green all year around while Hesperia at 3000+ feet altitude was brown and very cold that December.

When we, my mother, younger sister, younger brother and I, arrived there was no heat in the house and the furnace would not start.  My dad was detained in Long Beach by work, so it was up to us.  Providentially there was a working fireplace and wood to burn, whether left there intentionally or scavenged from surrounding scrub and downed Joshua trees is a fact lost in the shrouded past.  We all slept in the living room that night.  The following day all complications were solved by the adult while we children explored.  Our new lives had begun.

Looking back 5 and 1/2 decades, what impressions remain?  Light from a brilliant sun on cloudless days making deep shadows where mountains and houses stood.  Endless vistas.  Playing in the desert sand.  Joshua trees, cactus, tumbleweeds.  Jack rabbits, roadrunners, horned toads...

Election Day 2008. I did vote and am curious to see what happens.