"On The Mountaintop" by Keith Hewitt
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On The Mountaintop
by Keith Hewitt
Mark 9:2-9
The view from the mountaintop was nothing less than amazing. The Jezreel valley stretched out to the west, where a blood red sun was getting ready to punctuate the end of the day. To the east, like a slightly darker smudge on an already-darkening horizon, lay a body of water he knew to be the Sea of Kinneret...what they now called the Sea of Galilee.
The sea, itself, was visually unimpressive.
He had seen?heck, he had walked through--larger bodies of water than that in his life, but out here, dropped as it was in the middle of the wilderness, it really was something to behold. All in all, it was a beautiful landscape, he thought, nodding to himself as he turned to split the difference between the valley and the sea, looking south.
The sound of a stone, kicked out of place and skittering down the slope, told him he was not alone. Without looking?he didn’t need to?he nodded toward the south and asked quietly, “Is there any chance...?” He trailed off, embarrassed to finish the question.
His companion, who had known this moment would come, stifled a sigh and answered just as quietly?barely audible above the breeze that swept across the mountaintop. “I’m afraid not. You know the paperwork?you signed the release, yourself. You have until the end of the day, and your boundaries are the top of this mountain. No longer, no further.”
“I know. But to be here, now, so close...”
“It would be against policy. And the Old Man is a stickler for policy. You know that.”
“I do,” he agreed. Rules and regulations, laws and policies were necessary, he knew that. Of all people, he knew that. But it was policy that had kept him out of the land to the south, and today, as the sun dropped ever closer to the horizon, it was policy that haunted him. Part of him was surprised?he really hadn’t thought it would matter, now--but confronted with the reality, when the job was over and it was time to relax, everything changed.
“The paperwork to bring anyone out of Paradise is horrendous,” his companion reminded him. “There are meetings, and interviews, and more meetings, and evaluations. And then, when everybody agrees there is no other way, we still give you people a choice: stay in Paradise, in the presence of Yahweh, or return to earth for whatever task and time is set before you. It’s never very long, but you would be surprised at the number of people who say no...they don’t want to wrench themselves away from Paradise even for that long.”
He chuckled, then, an ironic sound. “No, I wouldn’t be surprised at all. We live our lives in pain, separated from a God we can only barely imagine, but still wracked with pain and guilt over the separation...knowing we created the gulf ourselves. When we find ourselves restored to his presence, it’s like...” He trailed off, uncertain of the words that would convey his thoughts. “It’s like nothing you can imagine; you have never felt that separation. I don’t wonder at all, that many people would not give it up, once they have that connection.”
“Then why did you?”
He shrugged. “I don’t exactly know. Think of it, maybe, as the real end of my calling. Our father, Yahweh, called me to lead his people out of Egypt, to lead them through the wilderness to their own promised land, and make of them a faithful, united people along the way, To recall, for them, the covenant. I understand, now, that his son will be calling people to a new covenant, a new relationship with the Father.” He turned, looking back at his companion for the first time since he began talking. “It was my task?my blessed burden?to lead his people out of slavery. I suppose I figured this was my chance to help his son do the same thing. This time, for good.”
His companion smiled. “And you did it well. If I’m any judge of character?and I am, I’ve been watching these people since before you were born?if I judge correctly, the men who were with Jesus, today, understood the message. Even the brash one, Peter, he knew that something extraordinary had happened. Although I wasn’t sure, for a moment, when he burst out about building three dwellings here.”
He laughed, then, and said, “The poor boy didn’t know what to say. I feel for him, I really do. It was how I felt, at the burning bush. I don’t know how I managed to carry on a conversation.”
“I know,” his companion said quietly.
“I suppose you do. But when Peter thought about it, he must have known the truth.”
“What truth is that?”
“That if we stayed here on the mountaintop?if Jesus chose to dwell here, with us, instead of going down and teaching the people?then nothing would have been accomplished. Being a prophet on a mountaintop is fine?but it’s the prophets that lead the people, and walk among them, that make a difference. It’s the lesson I learned?finding Yahweh, and being a faithful servant, is a journey, not an event. And it’s a journey to be shared..”
Wistfully, staring south, he added, “I brought my people just so far, and then had to leave them. Jesus will do better than I, because he can walk among them as they enter the new kingdom. They can follow him with joy.”
The expression on his companion’s face changed, then, became somber. “You may be surprised.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you may be surprised. I will tell you on the way?it’s not for here.”
“I see.” He stood like that for some time, watching his promised land sink into shadow, and when he could see no more he turned to his companion and sighed. “I suppose it’s time. Darkness has come.”
“It is, and it has?but cheer up. The light is on its way.”
Keith Hewitt is the author of two volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). Keith's newest book NaTiVity Dramas: The Third Season will be published September 2012. He is a local pastor, co-youth leader, former Sunday school teacher, and occasional speaker at Christian events. He lives in southeastern Wisconsin with his wife, two children, and assorted dogs and cats.
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StoryShare, February 15, 2015, issue.
Copyright 2015 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
