I love to go to the mountains of Tennessee to find my refreshing as I climb away from the cares of the day and move into a higher perspective. And this same type of truth can be seen in the history of religion, the high places have always been the holy places. At the same time, it’s far too easy to get hung up on the big things, whether it’s the majesty of the mountains or the size of the sanctuary or the emotion and the experience and fail then to tap into the greater resources that lie beyond those high places.
We have worshipped on the cloud covered heights of one or another form of institutionalized religion and the mists have blurred our vision and the sounds filled our ears; but sadly along the way we can lose sight of the other climbers on the slopes. We have climbed on the treacherous crags of prosperity and told ourselves that since we “made it”, it must be because we have found favor with God. God has blessed us. And yet, we are weary and understandably so. When we do that we soon find ourselves exhausted and running from one high place to the next. This isn’t to say that life doesn’t need its high places. But it is to say that the high places must be seen in the perspective in which they point beyond themselves.
The only consolation lies in the fact that we may finally grow tired enough that in our time of recuperation we might hear the wisdom of another climber. Like what we read in Psalm 121:1-2, “I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth.” The Psalmist wrote this as a song for the journey of life, up the mountains that lie before us in life, filled with ups and downs, highs and lows, deep valleys and high peaks that allow us to look around. We may still climb. The mountains have their place, but only when we remember that our strength for the day, for the climb, for the journey comes from beyond the hills to their maker, “My help comes from the Lord…who made heaven and earth…He will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.”
Rev. David Price
