There’s something of being on top of a mountain…

As a Boy Scout, my favorite winter camp out was atop Old Rag Mountain in Virginia's Shendandoah National Park. I have climbed peaks in Colorado and Tennessee, from Virginia to New Hampshire, and in Europe and, at only 3284 feet above sea level, Old Rag isn't the highest. But what it lacks in height it possesses double in ruggedness. The mountain is a geological marvel of sedimentary stone, greenstone rock, and granite formed over a billion years ago. Surrounded by lovely green hills sanded over eons to a gentle softness, Old Rag proposes a jumble of boulders that look like the toys of a giant. You can hike up an easy saddle but that's no fun. The best experience is slithering and mountain goating up the granite piles and chimneys. Of course that's one thing when you're twelve and another when you are, well, older. But the effort has always revealed something sacred to me.

I can't imagine Abraham mountain goating up his Old Rag and sitting there for forty days waiting for the God who had summoned him to speak. They say his aura changed. I think that's from the winded rupture of lung tissue with your heart pumping from the climb til it nearly bursts. Either way, something awesome was revealed to him just as it was to Jesus' disciples when they made their famous trek up another holy mountain and Jesus was transfigured.

This Sunday we'll celebrate that transfiguration. Let's put ourselves in the shoes of Moses and the disciples and see if we find anything sacred.

Next Wednesday we'll gather in the chapel at 6 p.m. to receive ashes and begin the season of Lent.