The view from the top of most any mountain is exquisite. As you look at surrounding mountains, valleys, and cities below you get a perspective that is found only in the heights. Even the wind creates a sense of awe, peace, and exhilaration. To be on the top of a mountain is a wonderful thing.
Climbing a mountain may or may not be a wonderful thing. Much depends on the mountain, the trail, and the physical condition of the climber. Still, it is an adventure. Most everybody who climbs mountains says, “It is worth it.”
Climbing God’s Mountain in Isaiah
Today’s first reading from Isaiah talks about climbing the “mountain of the Lord.” This mountain is God’s house, the temple in Jerusalem in Isaiah’s time, the Church in Christian times, our times. It is where you find God at home.
Readings from Isaiah are a core part of Advent. More than any other prophet, Isaiah spoke during trying times for Israel of the coming Messiah. Isaiah paints clearly the vision of the Suffering Servant who will come to both show God’s favor to the Jewish people and spread what is good in them to the corners of the earth.
Today’s reading comes from what scholars call “First Isaiah,” the first 39 chapters, written in the 8th century BC. Isaiah here is giving a mountain top view of what is true for Jerusalem and of what is to come.
In days to come,
The mountain of the LORD’s house
shall be established as the highest mountain
and raised above the hills.
All nations shall stream toward it;
many peoples shall come and say:
“Come, let us climb the LORD’s mountain,
to the house of the God of Jacob,
That he may instruct us in his ways,
and we may walk in his paths.”
Meeting God on His Mountain
As we read this scripture today it is good to remember that the mountain of the Lord is more than a physical place. The mountain of the Lord is where “the God of Jacob…may teach us his ways, that we may walk in his paths.” It is where the Lord will lead the people to “beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks.” It is where we can “walk in the light of the Lord.”
In other words, the mountain of the Lord is a place where we come close enough to him that he can teach us, change us, and then keep on giving us his light, his love.
The mountain of the Lord can be in a kitchen, a quiet church, a walk in the woods, or a doorway on a busy street. It can be a morning prayer time or a weekend retreat. It can be a conversation or a book. It can even be in the middle of crazy, December family life.
Wherever it is, it is where we go to meet the Lord.
You Have to Plan to Climb a Mountain
Out for a Sunday stroll, you might climb a hill on a whim, for the fun of it. But you make a plan to climb a mountain. You learn about the trails. You learn about water, rules for camping, and ways to get help if needed. You decide when to go and who to go with. You plan what you will carry, what you will eat, what you will drink, what you will wear. Climbing a physical mountain takes some planning.
Climbing the mountain of the Lord takes some planning, too. Perhaps at mass this weekend you thought, “I want this Advent to be different. I want to take time to pray, to rest, to breathe…to truly prepare for Christmas.”
Perhaps there was a real yearning in your soul when you sang, “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” or “Maranatha.” Yes, come Lord Jesus!
But then what? Well, I’ve been thinking about how I’m going to climb the mountain of the Lord this Advent…but it’s an idea—and several other aspects of December are more than ideas—they are already “To Do” lists: cards to send, gifts to make or buy, people to visit, baking and cleaning to do….
To Do’s and the Trail to the Top
Even thinking of this meditation today along with “to do” items—well, if I look at the time I’ve spent on celebration tasks compared to climb the mountain of the Lord tasks—those December “To Dos” take more than their share. I may mean to climb the mountain, but I stray on trails that don’t take me to the top.
Planning is important for climbing mountains and for sanity in December…but what is the planning I need to climb the mountain of the Lord?
The mountain of the Lord can be in a kitchen, a quiet church, a walk in the woods, or a doorway on a busy street. It can be a morning prayer time or a weekend retreat. It can be a conversation or a book. It can even be in the middle of crazy, December family life.
IF we meet the Lord there.
It can also be missing from Advent reading, mass, Giving Trees, penance services, or visiting the carebound—if the focus is on what we do, rather than meeting the Lord.
When God Comes–Metanoia
When I meet the Lord, there is always metanoia—a wisp or a whack or a wow of conversion. I am changed for the good. That metanoia comes from God. He is waiting for us on his mountain. He wants to meet.
We cannot create a spiritual mountaintop experience. I know. I tried for years. I went to the mountain, but I did not find God.
Only in retrospect can I see that I went up that mountain carrying backpacks of unrecognized, unconfessed, unrepented sin. God left alone on the mountain in those days.
At other times, God must have been testing me. That’s what the spiritual writers say. Maybe to let me know I am NOT in control of God’s mountain. It is God’s domain.
But we can prepare to climb the mountain and hope. Here are some strategies that often help:
- Set aside time
- Review in catechism or examination of conscience: What does God expect of his followers?
- Do something to let God encounter you (find some quiet alone time; read Scripture as a conversation with God; pray before the Blessed Sacrament; really examine your conscience; go beyond your comfort zone to reach out to show caring; make a retreat)
- Ask God, “Come, Lord Jesus. Come to me. Here I am.”
- Listen and watch for what is different, new, changed in your mind, your heart, or your will.
That’s when God comes. That’s the top of the mountain.
Prayer:
Lord, thank you for coming to meet us on your holy mountain. Help me to climb this Advent to meet you there—at least once. Then, with a wisp of an insight, a whack of realization, or the wow of your Presence, give me a metanoia—a conversion. Lead me, Guide me, Lord. Amen.
Note:
As Advent begins, Dan McFeely and I have traded days to write for A Catholic Moment. Dan will write for Thursday’s readings.
