The word “perspective” describes having a mental view about something. It may also describe a visible scene, the interrelation between subjects and their parts, a point of view, the appearance of objects with respect to their relative distance and position with other things, or the effort to view the spatial relation of objects on a plane or curved surface as they might appear to the eye. Artists use the latter. They depend on that ability when they paint an idyllic pastoral scene.
But the particular definition that is my focus here is the capacity to view something in true relationship to other aspects of life while evaluating its relative importance in living well.
I wonder if we often enough assess our own lives, families, friends, pursuits, possessions, indeed our strengths and frailties against the real place in this life which we occupy. After all, as individuals on the timeline of humanity our time here is infinitesimally small. Nonetheless, we should use the time we have to live thoughtfully with perspective in mind. Yet I don’t think we do the perspective business well. I don’t think I do.
Seeing oneself in perspective is sometimes unpleasant. It takes humility. News flash: Scott, you’re not going to be President of the United States. Nor are you likely to be the richest person in the world. And no, you will not be on the New York Times best-seller list. I’d like that. But I’d like a lot of things that won’t be. Yet if you engage in a genuine effort to see yourself and the people and things around you in perspective, you can benefit from the self-inspection. And in America, we would all benefit from engaging in a bit of perspective. It would put the troubles we face and the challenges we experience in some context, allowing us to clearly discern both the true relationship and relative importance of people and possessions in our lives.
In the US today, the vast majority of us live better than the most privileged Roman aristocrat did two millennia ago. Consider this.
How did you get your water today? Did you go down to a river with a clay jar, maybe a good mile from where you live, fill it with fresh water, and then carry it, maybe balanced on your head, back to your home, just to repeat the procedure several times to ensure you have enough water to wash yourself, cook your food, clean your house, rinse out your clothes, and have several drinks throughout the day?
Will you spend most of your waking hours gathering food by starting early in the morning so that you can feed yourself and your family?
When you ventured out to the market, did you worry if you would get there on time before the foodstuffs were scarfed up by other buyers, leaving you without enough to feed your children?
When you went to bed last night, did you worry that someone might break into your home and rob you and terrorize your family?
Did you plow a field, tend a flock, fashion a clay pot, hammer a horseshoe, mill flour, or watch helplessly as your husband, wife, children, or siblings were sold to another person with the certain cold reality that you would never see them again? It really happened.
Yes, life 2,000 years ago had its pleasures, glory, property, danger, and depravity. But compared to Rome, we in America live like Caesar. Our lives are blessed by convenience, sanitation, opportunity, safety, indeed luxury. To be frank, not all of us are equally privileged. And despite the desire of some utopians, most of us understand that we are not guaranteed success in life. Indeed, in America most of us are satisfied to have the opportunity to succeed rather than the guarantee that government will protect us from failure and the lessons that result. We live with the possibility of attaining the American dream that’s inseparable from hard work, risk-taking, and playing by the rules. Can events disrupt one’s efforts? Yes. Can we forge through them? Yep, when we summon an indefatigable spirit.
And that should help us have some perspective on who we are and the opportunity that’s before us. But is that enough? Will all the opportunities we have do the trick? Is that sufficient for us to live a life well-lived? Or do we need more to understand perspective?
A Jewish carpenter actually showed us how. He gave us perspective that is timeless, indeed endless. He showed us what was important with these commandments. “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself.”
Yep, that’s the perspective of a life well-lived.
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