Last Sunday of Epiphany (C), Monroe

When I was growing up Colorado

An early lesson I remember from school was a piece of geographical trivia that if one flattened out the mountains of Colorado our state would have been larger than Texas. I was born in the Superstition Mountains of Arizona. I’ve always thought of mountains as a part of my inner makeup, a part of what makes me who I am. I learned to drive when my father took me up into the mountains and let me drive the car on some of the deserted roads.

Later some neighborhood friends agreed to teach me how to ski on the little hills by the little park between our houses. These hills must have been all of about 10--15 feet high, but I felt an exhilaration when I could finally stand up on my skis all the way down.

Then we headed for a real ski area! I remember my first real run after practicing on the little “bunny” slope at the bottom. I felt like I was going to fall off a cliff when I got to the beginning of the run. Later, when I became a more polished and experienced skier, I would remember my fear that day with embarrassment. It was such an easy run and I was by then familiar with skiing avalanche chutes.

Later, with the same friends, I would spend a lot of time trying to learn and explore rock climbing and mountaineering techniques. I was never quite as accomplished with those as I was with skiing, but I gained a taste for what the mountains had to offer:

• fresh water in streams that we could drink from
• a couple of times seeing the aurora borealis
• quiet, stillness
• stars filling the sky which was uninterrupted by city lights
• fresh smells of all kinds
• fresh caught fish, cooking on a fire, as the sunrise burned the fog off a lake

And so much more. There is something very attractive, alluring, about the mountains. There is a reason, I guess, that they have been the focus for millenia of spiritual seekers, those seeking a closer relationship with God -- or “the gods.” Moses received God’s name in a cave on a mountain. Moses received the covenant in the form of stone tablets on a mountain. Abraham climbed a mountain with his son, following the command of God. That mountain is said to be the Holy Mount at the site of the temple in Jerusalem. Over it sits the Dome of the Rock. Moses went up the mountain to be with God. Jesus took his companions up the mountain as he turned his face from ministry to his passion in Jerusalem. Later, a community of monks would find their way to Mt. Athos in Greece -- there better to seek to live holy lives and to mold them into persons acceptable to God.

Mountains have been both literally and figuratively a place of holiness and of being molded into holiness and the way of love.

Meeting God at the mountain tops

Many are the holy mountains throughout the earth:

• Mt. Zion, Mt. Everest, Mauna Kea, Mt. Olympos, Mt. Ararat, Machu Picchu, Mt. of Olives. ... the list could go on and on.
• Mountains are places of revelation
• They are places of pilgrimage. They are places of worship. They are places with a powerful draw for many.
• Perhaps it is that the mountain tops are closer to the home of the gods or God.
• It is not as important to try to explain why as to observe their reality.

This last Sunday of Epiphany we in the Episcopal Church observe a mountain day in preparation for a day of ashes -- coming up this Wednesday.

I once heard a man speak who seemed as if he had walked out of the Old Testament.

His name was William McNamara. He lived most of his life as a monk living in a small religious community or living by himself as a hermit. He wrote a number of books about mysticism, contemplation, and how we can and ought to experience those things in the every day life that each of us lives. One of his books begins,

the Mystic is not a special kind of person; every person is a special kind of mystic. The Mystic is one who consciously and thoroughly immerses himself in the mystery of life and enjoys his communion with Ultimate Being.

McNamara thought that every one of us was capable of walking up the mountain of transfiguration alongside Jesus. He was convinced that all of us are capable and equipped by the living God to know the glory of the holy. Thomas Merton said much the same thing as I noted a week or two ago.

Annie Dillard famously described the liturgy that many of us so value in the church as being somehow devised over many years to be actions that keep the glory of God at bay. To go up the mountain with Jesus, alongside Peter, James, and John, we must let go of our expectations for the familiar. If we project our own expectations on the glory of God, we will get it wrong.

Glory in the small things

I have seen and experienced glory in the mountains, but mountain-top experiences can be found in all kinds of places and times, not just in literal mountains.

I have also experienced glory in the small tiny pieces of creation. I used to enjoy going out into the front lawn of our house where we would get down on our hands and knees and look and observe and marvel at the little creatures crawling about the blades of grass. I experienced "glory" when I was 12 or 13 playing baseball. Someone in center field lost a contact lens. In those days contacts were very expensive. Something took hold of me and I walked out of the dugout in a straight line to the outfield. I stopped. Bent down and picked up the lost contact. It was serendipitous. I felt as if I was in someone else's control. I felt mystery that I could not explain. It was one more piece of confirmation that I lived in the presence of something far greater than myself.

Coming down from the mountain

As we heard in the opening reading today, Moses came down from the mountain and had to hide from the people. Only slowly, over centuries would Israel begin to understand what the glory of this God was all about. It did not reside in political structures. It did not reside in grand buildings. It resided in the hearts of men and women. It resided in the Torah.

Peter, James, & John came down from the mountain. It’s not clear they understood at all what they had seen or experienced. They were unable to share it and kept silent in those days.

To go to the mountain is to tremble in humility. A veil over your face. Silent before your friends who want to know what it was like.

I know that some of you have known the mountain top experience I have tried to evoke and scripture portrays.

Yes, one comes down. One returns home after pilgrimage. We are given a glimpse of glory -- why? -- but to help others to glory. Not for our own purpose, but for our fellow companions on the Way. Christians were known as “followers of the way” before they were known as Christians.

Jesus led his friends down the mountain, telling them to keep quiet and learn what the glory meant. It is a lesson in humility. It is the Way of the Cross.

The Transfiguration in the synoptic gospels plays a pivotal role. Literally. It is the point in the narrative where Jesus draws to a close the first part of his life and begins to live into the second half which culminates in the cross and the empty tomb.

Mountain top experiences are times for silence and awe. The time for talking, explaining, will come later. My own experience is that mountain top experiences are associated with profound times of loss as well as joyous times of celebration.

When we catch a glimpse of glory we know that life is worth living. Glory. Found on the Cross. Found in the empty tomb. On Wednesday the church literally will invite us to the keeping of a holy Lent. Today the church figuratively invites us to the same.

Come follow the way of the cross. Come with Mary as she discovers the Risen Lord.

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Themes

lectionary Lesson 1: Exodus 34:29--35 Psalm: 99 Lesson 2: 2 Corinthians 3:12--4:2 Gospel: Luke 9:28--36,(37--43a)

Collect: O God, who before the passion of your only ­begotten Son revealed his glory upon the holy mountain

• Moses come down from the mountain -- skin of his face shining -- had to wear a veil when before the people.
• 3 disciples trudging up the mountain