Tag: Faith

No Mountain High Enough: Why Christmas is all About Descending

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You know those moments when you’re keenly aware that you are experiencing something profound, something that will become a treasured memory in a matter of hours?  I had one of those last week.  A very strange and hectic turn of events took me to Peru on the first week of December when I expected to be hanging decorations, head-down in Christmas events and helping my kids wrap up their final school projects and assignments before Winter break.  Instead, I left my family in North Carolina and flew to Cusco, where I joined my parents and my sister and her family on a whirlwind tour of ancient Incan civilization, culminating in a full day hike with a Peruvian trail guide, my mom and my sister along a portion of the Inca trail to Machu Picchu.

The first glimpse of the famous Incan mountain-top city was spine tingling.  We stood atop the Sun Gate on the adjacent hill, gazing down at what we knew was Machu Picchu surrounded by ethereal, wispy clouds, waiting for the moment that they would rise and we would see it–this beautiful, intricate, mysterious and awe-inspiring place, built so high on a mountaintop that it seems sacred and frozen in time.  As the clouds dispersed and Machu Picchu was drenched in sunlight, we walked down into the ruins, speechless with gratitude as we learned more about the people that constructed and occupied its walls so long ago.  And learning more about them, I recognized both a similarity in my own past and this ancient people who tried to work their way to salvation, and a sympathy for their striving to know the true God–the one they could not quite name, who cannot be found on a mountain peak, but who descended to Earth to reign in and fill our hearts. (Ephesians 4:10)

The Incans lived their lives on mountains–traversing, building, farming, storing, worshipping, an endless cycle of work.  Gazing at the structures and terraces they built on the steep faces of the Andean mountains, the question comes unbidden to everyone’s mind: How did they DO this?

They were only in power for a little over 100 years, but they accomplished so much in that time that you get the distinct impression that their entire existence was defined by work.  

Mountains themselves are a symbol of work and challenge.  Perhaps for that reason, countless ancient cultures have linked mountains to religious worship.  Mountain peaks have historically been the preferred location for temples or considered off limits to humans because they were inhabited by gods.

Some other mountains that are either historically sacred or still considered as such today include:

Mount Everest (Tibet)–the holy mountain of the Sherpa

Mauna Kea (Hawaii)–the holy mountain of the Kanaka Maoli

Uluru (Australia)–sacred mountain of the Anagu

Mount Shasta (California)–sacred mountain to the NAtive American Winnemem Wintu

Ahkka (Sweden)–sacred to the Swedish Sami tribe

Mount Olympus (Greece)–the home of the gods according to Greek mythology

Mount Ararat (Turkey)–the landing place of the Ark according to Biblical history

Mount Fuji (Japan)–Buddhist pilgrimage site

Arunachala (India)–holy mountain of Hinduism.

For centuries, mountains have inspired inward reflection.  We see their immense stature and contemplate how small we are, appreciative of our weakness.  People climb them to experience a rush, to gain a perspective few have seen, to see a vision for their future.  We use the word figuratively in our conversations to convey personal trials and triumphs.  Some see their beauty and height and recognize that they could only have been formed by bigger and more beautiful Creator.  A tour of the Cusco Cathedral in the city center revealed that, as the Incans were converted by the Spanish, they even drew Mary in the shape of a mountain, combining her characteristics with those of their own Mother-Earth-Mountain goddess.

It’s for all these reasons, the work, the mystery, the unattainable nature of the mountain, that reflecting on its symbolism was so powerful for me as I gazed at Machu Picchu, this epicenter of Incan worship during the Christmas season, a time of remembrance and celebration of the day God came down to the humble earth to dwell among man.  No mountain has ever been high enough for man to enter into the presence of a Holy God.  Even Moses, who climbed Mount Sinai to receive God’s commandments, was never permitted to see His face, to remain in His presence. (Exodus 33 & 34)

 Every other religion still clings to its mountains, to its belief that getting close to its god requires a pilgrimage, a journey, sacrifice or struggle.  These other religions still preach a separation from God, a breach that can only be bridged by an endless and often futile striving on the part of humanity, and an uncertainty that man can ever truly be assured he has reached the apex of holiness.

That’s why Christmas is not about scaling mountains, but getting them out of the way–removing their symbolism, the weight and burden they signify.  Being a Christ follower is about God’s glorious descension, not our ascension, but our recognition of His sacrifice and acceptance of His authority .  The beauty, the mystery, the wonder of Christmas is that God abandoned his mountain and came to us to make his home in the dusty, common valleys. Becoming Emmanuel, God With Us, he destroyed the dividing wall (Ephesians 2:14) and the hostility of rugged, rocky walls and stony hearts and began to sow seeds into hearts of flesh (Ezekiel 36:26).

When I walked through the long abandoned temples of impersonal gods at Machu Picchu, at the imposing Winaywiyna, and Pisaq, all I sensed was cold stone, no living presence.  But there was still the yearning in their stories recounted to me by our tour guides, to know this diving Creator, to offer worship and sacrifice and praise to One who made the things they could touch with their hands, the things that they depended on for their livelihood.  I’m so thankful that yearning is still alive today in the hearts of man, and that He has satisfied it in the form of the baby who became a Savior, who was born as a gift to us all, not in a citadel or a castle on a mountaintop, but in a stable in a small town on flat earth (Isaiah 9:6, Philippians 2:7).

When I see a mountain, I’m not compelled to strive, but to give thanks, that my Savior came down from His for me.  And that one day, I can ascend to Mount Zion on His back because of what He already did, not because I broke my own back trying to build enough temples to get there.

Whose You Are: Why Good Things Happen to Bad People?

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Whose You Are: Why Good Things Happen to Bad People

“Why do bad things happen to good people?  That only happened once, and He volunteered.” R.C. Sproul

A Tale of Two Pavements

In both scenarios, tears were streaming down my cheeks and I felt utterly alone.  In both scenarios I’d watched a man drive away and leave me stranded.  One held a gun to my head and forced me to comply with his fantasies, then left me lying facedown, crumpled on the ground, literally naked in the middle of the night in a dark cul-de-sac.

“Get out.  Face down on the ground.  Don’t move.”  

I watched my own car leave without me with a stranger in the driver’s seat, it’s taillights fading, and with them went my dignity and security.

The other had bewitching blue eyes, said toxic things I already believed about myself, but they seemed like poison coming from someone who months earlier had claimed to love me and had seduced me with promises of forever.  He left me standing upright, emotionally crumpled, feeling naked in the middle of the day in a mall parking lot.  I watched his tailights fade along with my dreams of happiness and wholeness.

“I could never marry someone like you.  No one will ever want you.”

Individually, these men played a part in robbing me of hope, of joy, of freedom, and it would be easy to blame them alone.  It would be simple to cast them as villains from those moments on, carrying anger with me for the rest of my life.  It would be understandable to pin my problems on men, to see myself imprisoned in my gender and needing to fight an endless battle against “them.”

But there was so much more built into these fleeting moments when I was reminded of my humanity and stared abuse and rejection in the face.  There was a cosmic, spiritual battle raging for my soul that culminated in these years, that I couldn’t see through the pain.  There were moments I almost succumbed to it entirely, nights when I heard voices telling me it all wasn’t worth it.  There was an enemy lying to me–he was bent on destroying me, thought by thought.

But in the days and years that followed my assault and the rejection of the man I thought would finally rescue me from my loneliness,  I would learn that there was one Father, one God-Man, one Lover, one Savior and Redeemer who could reframe my perspective and restore my hope.  There was Him–the ultimate, victorious, loving, righteous, holy, just, tender, faithful Him.  I would learn that my brokenness was a necessary step in recognizing His everything.  As time went on, I would even hear myself say that what happened to me–all the hurt, threats, ridicule and anguish wasn’t that bad.  How could I possibly say that, that something I would never wish on my biggest rival wasn’t that bad?

The Idol of Pain

When something horrible happens to us, we tend to think of ourselves as innocent and undeserving of tragedy or injustice.  And on a human level, that may be true.  None of us like to see people hurting or treated unfairly, or to be the ones receiving unfair treatment.  This is what creates empathy, concern, action that seeks to make things better, improve conditions, fight for justice.

But to maintain that perspective and not see ourselves as God sees us keeps us feeling sorry for ourselves and separates people by degrees of oppression.  It even sets us up to compare ourselves to others, to judge whether someone else’s pain measures up to ours to the point that we make too little or too much of each other’s problems.  We begin to worship our pain, our struggle, our testimony.   

But worst of all, it assigns expectations of God that are not Biblical, that do not even acknowledge Him as our sovereign Lord who has holy purposes for our pain.   Sure, He is our Savior, but that is not all He is.  Yes, He loves us, but His love is an outpouring of His holiness and His character, not our winsomeness (because truthfully we’re not winsome).  He rescues us, but it’s for His glory alone, not for our blessing.

These misunderstandings of who God is and who we are have been passed through culture for far too long.  They are beginning to erode the traditional Gospel and build up an insidious, me-centered faith that reduces Jesus deity and elevates our importance.  We stop observing God in His Word, seeing Who He is and how He behaves and jump to reinterpreting and twisting the Word to fit our lives.  Thinking this way, we start to believe that all of our struggles are accidents, an anomaly in the mythical, prosperous Christian life instead of seeing them as a privilege and means of reflecting God’s perfection, glory and sufficiency.

We regularly hear the question: “Why do bad things happen to good people?”  I think we only ask this question because we have an incorrect view of God and of ourselves.  

Alisa Childers says, “Jesus offers us true joy and peace, but only after we realize that we are not the center of our own lives.”

It is with this in mind that I would like to drill down to some basic truths, taken straight from scripture, about Who God is, who we are without Jesus, and who He says we are when we worship Him as Lord:

Who God is:

-”…God is light, in him there is no darkness at all.” (John 1:5)

-”For who is God besides the Lord?  And who is the Rock except our God?” (2 Samuel 22:32)

-”Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to him. For God is our refuge.” (Psalms 62:8)

-”Who is like you, O Lord, among the gods?  Who is like you, majestic in holiness, awesome in glorious deeds, doing wonders?” (Exodus 15:11)

-”To the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever. Amen.” (1 Timothy 1:17)

-”For I the Lord do not change; therefore you, O children of Jacob, are not consumed.” (Malachi 3:6)

-”Have you not known?  Have you not heard?  The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.  He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable.” (Isaiah 40:28)

-”God, who has called you into fellowship with his Son Jesus Christ our Lord, is faithful.” (1 Corinthians 1:9)

-”…but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom also he made the universe.” (Matthew 11:27)

Who we are apart from salvation in Christ:

-”I am the vine; you are the branches.  Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5)

-”We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment.  We all fade like a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away.” (Isaiah 64:6)

-”For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23)

-”If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” (1 John 1:8)

-”In reference to your former manner of life, you lay aside the old self, which is being corrupted in accordance with the lusts of deceit…” (Ephesians 4:22)

-”…and those who are in the flesh cannot please God.” (Romans 8;8)

-”Therefore, just as through one man sin entered into the world, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men, because all sinned…” (Romans 5:12)

-”Indeed, there is not a righteous man on earth who continually does good and who never sin.” (Ecclesiastes 7:20)

-”And you were dead in your trespasses and sins…” (Ephesians 2:1)

-”The heart is more deceitful than all else and is desperately sick; who can understand it?” (Jeremiah 17:9)

Who we are if Jesus is our Lord and Savior:

-”Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.  The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” (2 Corinthians 5:17)

-”For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” Ephesians 2:10

-”You yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable through God through Jesus Christ.” (1 Peter 2:5)

–”And you have been filled in him, who is the head of all rule and authority.” (Colossians 2:10)

–”Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making His appeal through us…” (2 Corinthians 5:20)

All of the truths above are reasons that I don’t have to worship my worst moments, why I instead worship the One who rescued me and set me on the path to the Promised Land. It’s why I can actually look back on my worst nightmares and be grateful for them, because the Lord used them to show me the true state of my despair and my need for a new heart. It’s why I can actually say that my hardest times are not about me and that I am okay with occasional injustice or ill treatment or heartache–because I was never a good person, and I deserved far worse than what I got. Every breath of fresh air, every moment of peace and stability and joy is a gift of grace. And that makes me all the more grateful.

“For our light and momentary afflictions are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.” 2 Corinthians 4:17