Mountaintop Experiences

Journal 2016

Peter, James, and John, closest earthly friends of Jesus, zigzag to the top of a high mountain (Matthew 17). It’s refreshing to be away from the pressing crowds, a gentle breeze caressing their cheeks, but they’re tired, sweaty, hungry, and thirsty. The long, arduous journey affords time to ponder all that’s happened so far in this ministry, but they are clueless as to why Jesus is leading them here. One foot following the other, pausing to breathe, they wonder when they’ll ever reach their destination. They miss their families, but it’s exciting to be singled out to spend quality time with their Rabbi. The privileged three.

And then it happens—Jesus’ transfiguration, meeting biblical heroes Moses and Elijah, the enveloping brilliant light cloud, the very voice of God. It’s overwhelming, it’s exhilarating, it’s sacred, it’s terrifying, it’s unique in history.

But this mountaintop experience is not meant to be the norm—in spite of Peter’s suggestion to create shelters for the three of them. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and they are forbidden to share it with anyone—at least for now. This is a holy, between-them-and-God moment. It’s nobody’s business but theirs. Perhaps the purpose is to strengthen their faith or give them courage or enlightenment. Maybe Jesus is bursting with excitement and wants to experientially share His true story with His best friends.

And now it’s time to come down off the mountain. They can’t live there, but it’s now part of their story that shapes how they think and feel. They are different for having experienced it. And when the time is right (after the resurrection), they can tell others—it’s a testimony—both theirs as a witness and a verification of who Jesus is.

What mountaintop experience have you had? Did you tell someone, or have you kept it between you and the Lord? Why?

Battling Dis-ease

Journal 2017

I just read the autobiography of Tig Notaro, a lesbian standup comic who faced several debilitating trials: she got C-diff, her mother died, and then she contracted breast cancer. Her response to each event was extreme fear and despair.

When people face bad news, I expect them to react negatively, to fall apart, lament, battle, and struggle. So, it intrigued me when I listened recently to the testimony of Walter Wangerin, Jr., author of 40 books including The Book of the Dun Cow. He said that when he heard the diagnosis of cancer, surprisingly he had immediate peace and thought, “This is the next grand adventure.” He also said he does not embrace the war metaphor of battling cancer. It’s his own body, not an enemy, and he wants to work with it, not against it.

I know several others who faced mortality with peace. My friend Peggy submitted to brain surgery with great grace, giving God the glory, and lived to share her faith. I watched Holly L’s final public testimony at church as she faced a terminal illness. She admitted to the struggle, but she was victorious.

I watch others melodramatically declare they’re dying when they get a hangnail. What makes the difference in how we handle pain, bad news, or losses in life? Some of that may be temperament or the lies we believe or the depth of past trauma, but I believe a lot has to do with our walk with the Lord. I just know that when my time comes to face a trial, I pray I will embrace it and live with a testimony that God is in control.