Growing up in Colorado, the presence of mountains was an everyday experience for me. We didn’t spend a lot time in the mountains, they were actually pretty far away; but the mountains stood there, peak after peak as something strong and reliable and essential. I have a hard time, even after over 25 years living in Minnesota, giving directions because I don’t have those mountains to orient me to the west and then the north, east, and south. My childhood was lived in relationship to all those great Rocky Mountain peaks. Every once in a while, I did get the chance to drive over passes and make simple climbs. One thing that I learned is that you can’t always see the top of the mountain while you are climbing it. What may seem like the highest point is simply a resting place along the way. One of my favorite climbs was one that I did as a camper and then as a counselor at a Camp Kotami. It wasn’t a hard climb over and around rocky outcroppings. We’d gather a few essential supplies for breakfast and head out in hopes of reaching the top of Cathedral Mountain by sunrise. Fruit cocktail poured over dry cereal in those individual boxes never tasted as good as when we ate it watching the spread of oranges and reds across the distant horizon. Then we’d scramble back down to and get to the work of the day. I don’t remember that much about these trips to the mountain tops involved holy encounters of biblical proportions. But there were moments of awe at the beauty of creation and bodies that could climb so certainly. There were important conversations. Because it mattered enough to regularly make this climb, I am open to the possibility all these years later that holy encounters did take place as we waited on the mountaintop for the sun to rise.
Mountains and mountain tops are significant in biblical stories. God speaks on the mountain tops. Ancient peoples believed that God physically dwelled in the heavens, in the sky above the earth and if one wanted to get close to God, one found a way to get closer to that seemingly distant sky. Climb a mountain.
Here in Minnesota, we don’t have much in the way of high mountains. The highest point in the state, Eagle Mountain, is only 2300 feet or so above sea level. I haven’t been there, but I’m sure that there is a good view from the top. Yet there are other great views, high places around. I love coming over a rise as I’m driving and seeing the plains rolling out in front of me or a shimmering lake. Just as importantly, whether we live here in Minnesota or in one of the mountain states, we have opportunities for holy encounters – for mountain top experiences – even if we are sitting by a river, floating on a lake, mowing a lawn, eating a meal with friends, or gathering in a board room. God doesn’t necessarily require that we “come up the mountain” for an encounter, only that we be willing and ready to listen for and to God wherever we are.
The lives of congregations are marked by high points. These can are the “a-ha” moments when things suddenly appear clear. People are inspired in a new way or clarity about a mission or commitment comes. It can be that moment when a stated high goal is finally attained. Emotions tend to be strong in these moments…joy and awe, even fear about what might happen next even while know that something decided is absolutely right. Like Peter, James, and John who saw Jesus transfigured before them and had a glimpse of the full divinity of Christ, our a-ha moments, our holy encounters can knock us off our feet. And, like Peter, we may want to capture that moment and stay in it. In the life of the United Church of Christ in New Brighton, high moments have been moving into this building and then making the additions necessary for the growing and changing life of the congregation. They have been the arrival and installation of new pastors. And they have been in the study, worship, and votes leading to significant statements of being a Just Peace and an Open and Affirming congregation. I haven’t been present for any of these moments here so I am relying on others who witnessed these events who named them as the mountain top times. At times holy encounters occur within the work of the congregation and are experienced by only a few. Like James, Peter, and John they must bear witness to God’s presence.
One congregation that I served engaged in a process of clarifying its own core values on its way to describing its mission. One step in this process is to allow a small group to create definitions for the values that the congregation names. The group named to write the definitions was a combination of people that I would never have brought together on my own. The Holy Spirit was working her way. We struggled over wording that would give a clear sense of what the four core values meant in that setting. The most difficult to define, I remember, was “family.” But as we finished, as the words went up on the paper, I shivered. I can still remember my own sense of awe, our collective sense of awe, at the working of God’s Spirit in that office. Shivering was the closest I could come to falling down on my face. “Wow” and “Amen” were the only words that were appropriate and they were inadequate.
After God called Moses up the mountain, Moses asked Joshua to climb with him. The scriptures don’t tell us how much Joshua witnessed, but Joshua went with, a witness to what was happening. The larger body of Israelites stayed at the base of the mountain where they could see that something was happening but couldn’t be sure what. Jesus invited just three of his disciples to come with him and witness what would happen on the mountain. The others waited. We don’t always all get to be close to the action. Sometimes our role is waiting.
Waiting is hard for us. We live in a sped-up and driven culture that clamors for decisions and actions. There seems to be little time for reflective waiting. God told Moses to come to the mountain and “wait on me.” Serving God means that we have the capacity to stand back and sit back until it is God’s time. The reading this morning tells us that Moses waited for six days. On the seventh God arrives. I hear echoes of the creation story. What new thing is God creating now? Then, Moses enters the cloud that represents the presence of God and stays for forty days…the echo of another time of re-creation and covenant. And the people watched from afar wondering if Moses would ever come back. It is hard to be the people at the base of the mountain who are left wondering and waiting when really we’d like to be moving and acting. Will we be ready for the new thing God is creating? How can we wait?
Anthony Robinson in Transforming Congregational Culture describes a difference between democracy and discernment and acknowledges that they often look quite a bit alike. A process of discernment, however, not democracy, is part of the roots of our religious tradition. He quotes Martin Copenhaver’s writings about the Congregationalists: “The early Congregationalists believed that the workings of the Holy Spirit can be discerned in community by receptive hearts that are informed by scripture and molded in prayer. They put into practice the understanding that the gathered community is the true vessel of the Spirit of Christ – a term they used often. They met often, and their meetings were seen as opportunities to encounter God in their midst. That is, they were more like worship than legislative sessions. The community did not gather for decision-making as much as discernment. They listened to one another, not out of a humanist notion that people of opposing views are worthy of respect, but because one can never know whom the Spirit will choose to speak through on any given occasion.”
He continues, “A ‘majority rules’ way of thinking is what happens when we take God out of the congregational process.” (end quote) Discernment is about waiting and listening, listening and waiting. Discernment means setting aside our own wants and wishes – our desire to create and find the will of a majority -- in favor of discovering the mind of Christ and the will of God.
You might wonder how you will know when that moment of discernment happens. Frankly, it is hard to describe but I am certain that there are people in this congregation who already carry with them those moments of clarity when the Spirit spoke. You may find your selves speechless in the presence of the Holy. You may find that your discernment takes an unexpected and creative twist and you follow that new path. You may want to stand up and cheer from the sheer joy of knowing God in the midst. You may shiver with awe at the movement of the Spirit. You will know “a-ha” in your hearts and minds. For a moment, and perhaps for just a moment, you will have complete clarity about what it is God wants you to do and just how to begin. It will be time to hurry down off the mountain carrying freshly inscribed tablets or a rich memory of a holy encounter demanding to be revealed and shared. At last it will be time to move, time to act on the vision that God has entrusted to you.
I’ll confess that I didn’t really consciously notice the mountains every day. They were a fixture in my life. Sometimes the base was obscured by smog and sometimes the tops were hidden in clouds. But when I wanted or needed to look, there they rose in all their majestic splendor orienting me to my place and my self.
As this congregation continues to serve God you will continue to make decisions, sometimes difficult decisions, about your mission, ministries, and ministers. There is a lot of discernment ahead. Your mountaintop experiences, your high times, and your clearly holy encounters serve to orient you and give you direction. Retell your stories and let your memories of those experiences once again clarify your essence. Return again to the mountaintop. Wait on God.
Amen.
