Climbing Mt. Quandary
The Rev. Bonnie Malone
February 18, 2007
The Last Sunday after the Epiphany
This sermon is also available in audio
Have y’all ever had a mountain top experience? In our gospel today, Jesus and his closest disciples have one. For Jesus, it is a moment of clarity; it is the turning point of his life. From the summit he heads steadfastly and resolutely to Jerusalem, where he will take on the powers that be and make the sacrifice of his life. For his disciples it is a sleepy and confusing experience, one that will take years to understand; one that will give them courage in the face of the hardships to come. Either way, for Jesus and his disciples, their time on the mountain will interpret what their lives are about; their ultimate purpose, their calling.
In the ancient Middle East, and in many ancient and modern religions, mountain climbing is a religious experience. In the Hebrew Scriptures, God speaks from mountain tops and marks the beginning of new things, new covenants, new callings. In Greek mythology, one comes closer to the gods within the ethereal clouds which obscure the peaks from the base. In modern day Japan, several religions make a practice of climbing Mount Fuji, expecting enlightenment along the way. In all of these religions, the believer understands the summit to be a place on commune with the Divine, with God.
In Colorado, where I grew up, everyone has access to a mountain top experience. The easiest route to the top of a mountain is a ski gondola in the long winter months. Simply put on your skis, glide into line and wait until the chair comes around. Take a seat and enjoy the ride to the top, breathing in fresh cold air and dangling your heavy legs. Many skiers pause for a minute or two at the top, to survey the view. Some are so moved at the site of the amazing world God created (you see so much of it from up there) that they gasp, moved to prayerful silence. It’s enough to make people want to come back. But little by little, if they are like me and as they get consumed in the sport of skiing, they pause less and less when the gondola slides them effortlessly onto the slippery summit until, finally, they forget to pray.
One doesn’t think of the Colorado outdoors quite as much in the summer, and summit toppers are rare during those months. But some folks still long for the experience at the top of the mountain. Less common than skiers and more ambitious are the people who call themselves the 14ers. These are climbers who make it their goal to climb the Colorado peaks that are 14,000 feet above sea level or higher. For these serious climbers, the ease of a gondola won’t do.
14ers know that there are many ways to climb a mountain; there are the steep rocky climbs that require all sorts of tools and protective equipment; there are meandering walks which require only hiking boots and a supply of trail mix. Sometimes you travel with others, other times you travel alone. Sometimes your path will converge with other climbers for a period of time, until you part ways to find different path; but all ways lead to the top.
When my brother and sister and I were teenagers, Dad helped us climb the 13th highest mountain in Colorado, the 14,000 ft. plus Quandary Peak, aptly named, in the ten-mile mosquito range, near Breckenridge and Leadville. I never made it all the way to the top; thanks to a hail storm that arrived suddenly (the weather is completely unpredictable up there). But I learned a few things about climbing nonetheless, and as a way of bridging the gap between Epiphany and Lent, I’d like to share with you some spiritual wisdom drawn from the practicality of Mountain climbing: (Call it A Rookie’s Guide to Climbing; I’ll let you make the spiritual connections.)
The first thing you need to know about climbing mountain: you absolutely have to travel light. Too much in your backpack or belly will weigh you down. Your whole body (and mind and spirit) needs to focus on the climb. There just isn’t room for a lot of extras. Alas, no diet sodas or chocolate for a mountain climb. Climbing takes a little sacrifice.
Second, and perhaps the next one goes without saying, but my sister and I didn’t anticipate this one and it’s why we never got to the top: it’s easier to climb if you are in shape. If you want to make a smoother ascent, better make a habit of regular physical (spiritual) exercise.
Another thing about mountain climbing: there are lots of false peaks. You think that once you get to the top of this incline, over the other side will be the final ascent to the summit. A climber has to weather some disappointment along the way if they intend to make it to the top; have a little faith and keep climbing. If you’re paying attention and really into the climb, the false peaks may not affect you. Really it hardly matters. At the top of each incline is a successively more incredible view.
But another thing you need to know: it often gets tougher as you go. The air is thinner higher on the mountain. This means you have to pace yourself; you must take rest breaks. As the air forces you to discipline yourself, it also forces you to enjoy the view. Take a little time to enjoy the people you are climbing with when you rest, and as you travel. It makes the work easier and takes your mind off of the pain in your calves.
As you near the top you may encounter rocky terrain, because no vegetation can grow in the thin air. No matter how flat the incline, the slippery and dislodged rocks are a trick to navigate. It takes a while to learn to spot a rock that’s too unstable. You have to keep at it. Take advice from a climber in front of you when you are unsure. Between the tricky topography, the thin air and the false peaks there are lots of temptations to quit. Ultimately, climbing takes commitment.
Finally, take what you learn from your climb with you when you return to the base of your mountain. Mountain top experiences are a point on a journey, not the final destination. If you were to ask a 14er why they climb, you would get a lot of different answers. First climbers do it out of a mixture of curiosity and challenge. Can I do it? What will it be like? Veterans may continue to climb simply for the challenge of it. Some climb with an inner photo journalist; others for the excellent physical exercise; some go only in groups ostensibly for the cooperative exercise. When we went, a man who took on Quandary every day, climbed to the top and down in two hours. He did it out of habit. Many committed climbers do it for the moments of clarity they experience along the way and at the summit; they frequently find metaphors and wisdom for their lives. They do it for something the simply can’t find sliding off the ski gondola or watching TV.
Whatever reasons a 14er verbalizes for their quest, one reason is universal. It is a longing. They climb because an aching and consuming longing draws them back over, and over, and over again, to the base of mountain, and slowly into the trees, and up and up…steadily ascending…until there are no trees…only air, and clouds, and other climbers…and the irresistible feeling that there is something out there, something larger than them, something mysterious, simultaneously unattainable and yet palpably present. Indescribably nourishing, yet creating even more intense hunger. Something that makes them realize their smallness, yet connects them to a loving oneness that is unfathomably large. Something that calls them out into the world and yet, ultimately, always, home.
May we long for you Lord, like these. Amen.
Copyright ©2007 Calvary Episcopal Church
Gospel Reading:
Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter
and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while
he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes
became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah,
talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure,
which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and his companions
were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they
saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. Just as they were
leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, "Master, it is good for us
to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses,
and one for Elijah"—not knowing what he said. While he
was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were
terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice
that said, "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!" When
the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent
and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen. NRSV
(New Revised Standard Version)