Mount Mansfield

Mount Mansfield sports a summit of between 4393-4395 ft (depending on your source) and is the highest peak in Vermont. Ok, so it's not as high as San Gorgonio in my home town, but I'd hate to get stuck up there overnight in February, and it does look prettier more days out of the year. Lately it's been colder here than Vancouver, BC where the Olympics are going on right now.

If you look at one of the peaks in this picture, one of the far peaks on the right is actually the 11,500 ft. peak. Taken in January.


But today we're going to shed light on familiarity. And how our perception of reality actually depends on this. A single case in point is Mt. Mansfield vs. San G. Nothing profound, but we all know that our ideas of contentment, happiness, even kindness and thoughtfulness are relative to what we are familiar with; in a sense these are aspects of light that are given to us. This means: we can choose what we familiarize ourselves with. We can choose what we behold, and consequently what we are changed in to. But does that mean that light is relative? Yes and no. It would be quite a conundrum that we could easily conclude that light (or Truth, or love, or any other linguistic metaphor God mercifully gave us to learn of Him) if we were not, say, a Bible believing Christian. Because the Bible actually sheds, umm, light on this subject.

The path of the just ... you can finish the proverb. If the light given to us, was simply static, then we can be content to conclude that it is relative, and we can smugly palliate our own convictions and say, that we are judged by the light we receive. Well, we actually aren't, we're judged by how we respond to the light ... all the time, not just once, not just today, as we live and breath and have our being, one day after another, will we turn to the light, or will we simply refuse to look as the light is revealed to us? To put it differently, do we love, enjoy, coddle, care for, or otherwise nurture the light we've been given? Think I'm making this up? John 3:19 and it's context.

So if your excuse is that you're no familiar with, let's say, medicine, or good habits of hygiene, or good study habits, or integrity, or familiar with tall mountain peaks. That's not the problem. The problem comes when, though you're familiar with a 4k peak, and someone shows you an 11k peak, and you respond with: well, I still think my mountain is better (taller, whiter, bigger, name your adjective). If it doesn't grab you, and make you want more, then that's where the problem lies. What's so beautiful is the solution: if you're not familiar with how to turn to the light, you can ask for it. All you have to do is realize that you don't have it.

Which brings us to another topic for later: Acknowledgment.