The Journey From Atop a Mountain

I am not a fan of heights. I don’t like the thought of falling. No, I was not dropped as a child. But I can admit I did enjoy roller coasters once. Call it youthful exuberance, thrill-seeking, or just plain madness. But those days are behind me. I have decided some time ago I can raise my heart rate in less stressful ways, without having migraines, stomach upset, whiplash, or the inevitable loss of composure resulting in any sort of undignified behavior. Things happen really fast when you’re falling. Plus there’s that unavoidable sudden stop at the end. But just focusing on the journey down, even on a roller coaster, I do not like that my feet are dangling in empty space. I prefer solid ground. I prefer a firm footing. And the farther my feet are from that firm footing, the more stress I feel. Often the illusion of a firm footing works just fine. So I can get on an airplane and travel across the ocean. The firm footing that is the airplane’s cabin floor is adequate assurance for me. But when I lose that firm footing, even if I am able to grab hold of something to stop my quick descent, I do not always get that assurance that my arms will do as good a job as my feet in establishing stability. Now if we had all spent more time hanging out in trees as we did standing on solid ground, it might be a different story. But as it is, I do prefer my feet firmly planted on a stable surface, despite the thought in the back of my head that the earth’s crust is really just a thin film of loose rocks and dirt floating on the surface of a bottomless cauldron of molten lava. But that’s beside the point.

I can still very much appreciate that awesome sensation of the vastness of the view from a great height. If the ascent involved stairs of any kind, it feels good to know I can finally rest my weary legs, that the air up there is cooler and fresher, and that a fantastic view awaits that I will always remember. I have stood on the observation deck of the Empire State building and the World Trade Center in New York City, the Space Needle in Seattle, the John Hancock Center in Chicago, the northern bluff overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, Sydney Tower in downtown Sydney, the London Eye and the bell tower of Westminster Cathedral in London, and the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. I have looked out an airplane window upon the Rockies out west, the mountains of Eastern Canada, the Apennines in Italy, the Alps in France, the Remarkables in New Zealand, and the Great Dividing Range in Eastern Australia. All I can say is “Wow!” A view like any of those will take your breath away.

The awesome sensation atop a great height always makes me pause and reflect a little deeper. At that height I often get a stronger sense of closeness to God. Now I don’t believe heaven is physically up there. Heaven isn’t even necessarily a physical place. Heaven is being with God. But if I experience a greater closeness to God while up on a great height, then I imagine there is something about it that is like heaven. The bible tells us that many people encountered God on mountaintops. I know the feeling. I am drawn to prayer and to thoughts of my own insignificance before God when I stand on a great height. I find I am more still so to hear what God has to tell me. I feel God’s presence more tangibly in ways I cannot describe. My fingertips feel tingly. I take deeper and longer breaths, probably because the air is thinner. My vision and hearing seem more acute. And if allowed, I will try to stay up there as long as I can.

Jesus took Peter, John, and James up a mountain one fine day, and “while he was praying, his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white.” Now this large hill, Tabor, which Christians identify as the mountain of Transfiguration, sits alone in the lower plains of Galilee, 11 miles west of the Sea of Galilee, at about 1800+ feet, and no other comparable hills nearby. I’m sure the view alone is quite impressive. Then Moses and Elijah appeared to converse with Jesus about what he was to face in Jerusalem. Now picture Peter, John, and James just completely beside themselves. Peter even began babbling about setting up three tents, they were so shaken. But Jesus was accustomed to praying on mountaintops, and conversing with his Father about his day, his concerns, and the mission entrusted to him. This time he is seen talking to two of Israel’s most important historical figures. Jesus could see the road ahead on his journey to Jerusalem. Perhaps he needed someone else’s perspective to guide him forward. If Jesus was overwhelmed with the thought of his approaching passion and death in Jerusalem, perhaps Moses and Elijah would help put it all in context. He wasn’t doing it for himself. He was doing it for Peter, John, and James. And he was convinced they had to see him pause on the journey, and reflect on the gravity of his mission. Jesus knew exactly what he had to do. He just needed to show his friends he was embracing God’s plan with full knowledge and free will. He was setting an example for us to follow.

Abram was also overwhelmed with God’s promise of descendants too many to count. At the moment, he had none. So while he fell into a trance, God appeared in fire and smoke to establish a covenant with him. The experience must have been terrifying and comforting at the same time, something only God could pull off. But it helped Abram stay the course. In fulfilling his great plan of salvation, God would much prefer willing participants. God isn’t into twisting arms. But he does make a compelling case.

St. Paul often writes with great passion about what he believes. When he pleads with the Christian community to the point of tears, we know he is not concerned about what anyone thinks. He instructs us to imitate his example, to live like himself in the knowledge and conviction that “our citizenship is in heaven.” There are those who “conduct themselves as enemies of the cross of Christ.” You know better, that our “savior, the Lord Jesus Christ … [will] change our lowly body to conform to his glorified body by the power that enables him also to bring all things into subjection to himself. … Therefore, [you] whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, … stand firm in the Lord.” He must have also seen the road ahead, that the church would face trial and persecution, and he imprisonment and martyrdom. But his communion with God in prayer gave him strength to enable him to embrace willingly his role in God’s plan. It may not have happened on a mountaintop, but he saw it all clearly and distinctly. And he did not turn away.

When we pause on our journey to stand with Jesus on a mountaintop, we might see how things may unfold up ahead. We know God is with us there, and we won’t be walking the journey alone. God is walking with us and alongside us. So every so often, stand atop a mountain. Breathe in the cool, fresh air. Know God’s presence with you. He gives us strength to stay the course and embrace both the journey and where it takes us.