The Gravity of an Upward Calling

When you're fairly acrophobic and holding a bag of M&Ms, typically the vista you see lacks depth. Such a view would be difficult to manage at the moment as I'm staying in the Alps overlooking Lake Thun (Okay, so this was in early March but no one ever anticipates a pandemic). The mountains provide a perfect focus as I hone in on a simple idea: UP.

I have discovered over the last few months in Germany that up isn't really my preferred direction. Open stairwells at school, hiking paths in the forest, and various visits in the neighbourhood have brought that home repeatedly. Going up is hard.

Looking out on my view today brings it to bear once more. The lake below glistens in green, inviting fields while snow wreathed peaks stretch forebodingly into cloud banks. Why do we strive to summit? What calls us to climb further? I mean, it's a bit bleak. The air becomes nigh unbreathable. The cold threatens life and limb. A lot can go wrong with help far removed. How on Earth do you justify the need to risk so much?

Even the law of nature agrees with me. Gravity gives us a nice opportunity to stay firmly planted in the pleasant valleys. No need to go chasing after Sherpas or mountain men. The yeti can stay anonymous for all I care. Who in their right mind would contravene the logic of terra firma?

Yet the Bible has a different view. Valleys often represent dark places, like the shadow of death (Psalm 23). Mountains bring us closer to God. Mount Ararat, Mount Moriah, Mount Sinai, the Temple Mount, the Sermon on the Mount, and Calvary all point towards a relationship, a communion with the LORD of Heaven. Covenants with Noah, Abraham, Moses, David, and the people of Israel, as well as the person of Jesus all point upwards. We have an upward calling (Philippians 3:14), one that ultimately challenges and blesses.

Those lofty spiritual heights prove no easier to scale than the Alps. It's still hard, perhaps harder than anything we will ever face. There is a gravity to this upward calling. Pitfalls abound. Circumstances can be grim. Shadows sometimes hide the sun. Up is still the answer. "I lift up my eyes to the mountains— where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip" (Psalm 121:1-2).

The mystery of the mountain: perspective reminds us that when we feel small, God is still big enough! The One who calls us is faithful (1 Thessalonians 5:24). He not only invites us further up but gives us the means to follow him (Psalm 18:33). We may experience setbacks but nothing compares to the assurance of his presence and provision. He walked up a hill to the cross so we will live eternally with him in our heavenly home. Look up! His arms are open wide and he loves YOU. I want to spend each day in that embrace, forgetting my fear of heights and finding instead a higher calling.

P.S. - Hinds Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard explores this topic in an allegorical telling of one fearful soul's desire to follow God. If you need some summer reading, add it to your list.