Going Up?

BRUCE  LICHT

The entrance to an elevator on the ground floor of a building only has one button, and it will only take you in one direction—up.  Likewise, the entrance to an elevator on the top floor has just one button and you can only go down. But when you are in-between, on a middle floor, the entrance has two buttons and you can choose to go up or down depending on which button you decide to press. (1)

When it comes to the constellation of choices we make in life—the behaviors we wish to exhibit and activities we engage in—it is similar to taking elevator rides; will they take us up (make us more God-like) or in the opposite direction? The goal should be to always try to elevate ourselves.

But that is not always so easy, and we often make bad decisions, because we are enticed by things we shouldn’t touch, aroused by what we shouldn’t view, drawn to places we shouldn’t go, and opinionated aboutwhat we shouldn’t say. (2)

In a way, we are like fish.  We are repeatedly attracted to shiny lures and fall for the same old tricks. Can’t fish learn that when there is an appealing worm dangling in front of them, that it is going to land them on someone’s dinner table? Unfortunately, we likewise make the same mistakes over and over again. (3)

We need to learn from our missteps. We need to strive to be BIG people—not little, lazy, dishonest, gossipy, petty people. Our objective should be to take all that we learn and use it to become the best possible version of ourselves. You are a once-in-history phenomenon and therefore, something unique is expected of you. There already was an Abraham, Lincoln, Einstein, and many more. Those roles have already been fulfilled. When God ushers us all into judgment, He will not ask, “Why were you not Abraham?” He will ask, “Why were you not the best possible you?” (4)

This analogy of an elevator and fish serves as a metaphor for the human condition, illuminating our constant struggle between elevation and degradation. Our own “moral elevator of life” presents us with choices, much like the middle-floor elevator buttons. Our decisions dictate whether we will strive "up" towards a more God-like existence or descend into undesirable, destructive, short-sighted behaviors. The essential message here emphasizes self-growth, urging us to learn from our mistakes, resist bright and shiny lures, become the best version of ourselves, and fulfill our distinct, highest potential.

This innate moral compass—the universal drive to strive for a higher self despite our frequent failings—can be interpreted as a subtle, yet powerful pointer to the divine. The very existence of this internal battle, the distinction we perceive between "up" and "down" paths, suggests an objective moral standard or design, hinting that we are created with an in-born capacity to recognize and reach for something transcendent. This intrinsic blueprint for unique greatness is, for many, indirect proof of a Creator.