Sermon on the Mount

 

I do not want to have a bad attitude about church, really I don’t.

Although I may not know exactly what it is that I am hoping to find within the four walls of a church; I do know what I am not looking to find.  

Since our move to Alaska two short months ago, the lens with which I view my own little world in regard to church and church people has changed.

Each week our family enters the doors of different churches in an attempt to feel whatever it is you are supposed to feel when you know that you belong somewhere; each week we leave without receiving as little as a “hello.”

In between Sunday’s, I have made it my ambition to hike a mountain at least twice each week.  What started out as simply a venue with my sister to be outdoors and achieve an incredible workout has turned out to be so much more.

My experiences on our challenging hikes continues to make me wonder if perhaps church is happening in an unexpected place such as a mountain.  It’s confusing for a lifetime church-going girl such as me to understand that the sermons I am receiving on the Mount are happening in spite of the fact that I do not look like a church-going girl ought to look.

How can it be that when I am at my most vulnerable, bent over with my hands on my legs whilst gasping for breath, a complete stranger is willing to speak to me?  There is no small talk, no pretense, and no concern for whether the other person may or may not like me.

I am muddy, sweaty, and loaded down with water bottles, protein bars, and bear spray.  

The conversations we have carried with different hikers met along the narrow trail of the mountain have varied from joking, to serious conversations, to warnings about what we have encountered along the trail that would be most beneficial to share with one another.  We don’t know each other, yet we care.  Chances are we will never see these individuals again during our hikes; yet our encounters remain rich and energizing.

Yesterday my sister commented that she is at peace on the mountain.  She didn’t need to explain what she meant, (not that she could have since we were both doubled over panting for oxygen), I fully understood.

There is no room for ego or false identity when standing as a tiny dot on a majestic mountain.  Respect for God and for His creation is not a necessary discussion but rather a given.   

Wanting to feel noticed or important is a silly notion from somewhere in the past.  God’s majesty and splendor are ever-present; each step is holy ground.  As you rise above the clouds to view life from a higher elevation, troubles lie somewhere at the bottom of the mountain, small and forgotten.

Each time we exit the mountain, we are refreshed and at peace regardless our personal circumstances. 

Matthew chapter five through chapter seven is Jesus’ longest sermon and it happens to be given up on a mountainside; the ever-famous “Sermon on the Mount.”  He speaks of us, His children, being salt and light.  He shares the beatitudes, speaks about murder, adultery, divorce, revenge, loving our enemies, giving to the needy.  He also teaches us how to pray, how to fast, how to not worry, how to not judge, and so much more.

Everything we need to know to live as Christ-followers is given to us on the Sermon on the Mount.  Maybe we need to learn how to take the sermon from the mountain and into the four walls of the church.  Just a thought.

I will remain ever hopeful that our family will find a church that fits who we are and what we represent.  

However,  in the meantime I will continue to grow and learn and love and be at peace somewhere on the trails on a mountain in Alaska.. 

Stay the Course...

Sheila Cote