There is nothing like a trip into the Colorado Rockies to clear the mind. My husband, Ron, ran a half marathon in Vail this past weekend, and I went along as his companion and cheerleader. This is one of many road races he has done in this scenic locale, and my routine for each one has become a ritual. After seeing him off, I take the 25-minute walk to the base of the finish line. Before boarding the gondola that will take me to the top of the mountain, I purchase a cup of chai and then enjoy the scenery as it unfolds before me. The vistas on top are breathtaking and I usually have an hour or so to myself before Ron comes into view. It is the epitome of a contemplative experience.
In stories or cartoons in which spiritual seekers search for a guru, their quest inevitably ends on a mountaintop. In the Bible, the mountain is often the site of God’s self-disclosure. On Mount Sinai, Moses receives the Law, and on Mount Horeb, Elijah hears God’s voice in a tiny whisper. And, of course, there is the account of Mount Tabor where Jesus is transfigured and then flanked on either side by these two other momentous figures.
Even today, the climb up Mount Tabor is no afternoon stroll. It is too steep for tour buses and so pilgrims make the final journey on foot. This means that Jesus took his three disciples on a strenuous trek, made even more so by the lack of trail amenities, such as markers and rest stops, that are part of modern-day hiking. Is it any wonder that Peter, awestruck by both the sight and the magnitude of the transfiguration, wanted to stay? In all three versions of this account – Matthew, Mark, and Luke – Jesus and his disciples are met upon their descent with crowds, arguing factions, and a boy possessed by a demon. Talk about a reality check!
This story took on new meaning when Ron and I sought refuge on aptly-named Harbor Mountain after the death of our daughter, Jenny. Returning to Alaska after her funeral in Colorado, the mountain was a welcome refuge from the well-wishers, memories, and anguish of grief. We stood high above the clouds and breathed in the rarified air that makes mountaintops so restorative to heart and soul. I understood Peter’s rationale completely. Who wouldn’t want to hold onto both the golden moment of transfiguration and the relief, albeit momentary, from everyday suffering?
These thoughts were with me as I rode the gondola to the top of the mountain. It was the thirty-fifth anniversary of Jenny’s death and so memories, both bitter and sweet, re-emerged. So, too, did assurance of God’s love and mercy. Basil Pennington, the Cistercian monk and author, describes mountains as places to simply abide with God. Contemplative journeys, he notes, involve faithfully following Jesus even if we don’t know where the trail may lead. We may be drawn further into the clouds or out into the bright sunshine. Either way, mountaintop experiences shed light on our lives and reveal God’s presence in ways we can’t fathom in lower elevations.
Bright Ideas
Read more about the account of the Transfiguration, and complete the activities with your class or family.
Download my Reflection on Psalm 121: A Song of Ascents, and use it in your parish or home.