But now we leave the Jordan River and follow a small stream up the hill a couple miles to the West. We are going to Jericho, perhaps the oldest city in the world. Jericho, the first conquest made by the Israelites in the promised land, the city where the prostitute Rahab lived, an ancestor of David, an ancestor of both Joseph and Mary, a woman who trusted in the God of Israel and was saved from the destruction of Jericho when the walls fell. She is the poster child of God's grace.
Jericho, at 864 feet below sea level, about 400 feet above the valley floor, was founded as a city because of the great spring that lies at the base of the mountain, with a flow of over a thousand gallons a minute. This water was used to irrigate the rich soil brought down the Jordan Valley by the River’s floods. And here, Herod the Great was building his palace. It is the lowest city on earth, but is one of the most beautiful, fertile places on the planet. If only the King didn’t live here, for he is violent and selfish, a tyrant. But he has provided for travelers with a place to spend the night.
Zephaniah 3:14-20; Isaiah 12:2-6; Luke 1:39-55
We stop for the night. Fruit and vegetables and flour are for sale by the locals. We could stay here. Some have stayed, working for King Herod in his town. We’d gradually become his slaves, though, as many have done when they choose comfort over the journey. We spend a pleasant evening in a pleasant place – but the toughest part of our journey is ahead. We must get on with our journey to Bethlehem, our journey of life.
For we must climb up the mountainside road, the road that leads out of the valley up through the dry, bare mountain walls, up, up, up almost 900 feet to the level of the ocean, then another 2500 feet to Bethlehem. After the 400 foot climb we made today from the valley floor to Jericho, we must climb another 3400 feet – almost 3800 feet altogether, over four times the height of Seneca Rocks. And we will do it on a rocky path, on foot. Mary will ride a donkey.
Who is this girl, Mary?
She is a cousin of Elizabeth, who is the mother of John, Zechariah’s son. Zechariah is an ordinary priest in the Temple, they live in a small village near Jerusalem.
We stop for the night. Fruit and vegetables and flour are for sale by the locals. We could stay here. Some have stayed, working for King Herod in his town. We’d gradually become his slaves, though, as many have done when they choose comfort over the journey. We spend a pleasant evening in a pleasant place – but the toughest part of our journey is ahead. We must get on with our journey to Bethlehem, our journey of life.
For we must climb up the mountainside road, the road that leads out of the valley up through the dry, bare mountain walls, up, up, up almost 900 feet to the level of the ocean, then another 2500 feet to Bethlehem. After the 400 foot climb we made today from the valley floor to Jericho, we must climb another 3400 feet – almost 3800 feet altogether, over four times the height of Seneca Rocks. And we will do it on a rocky path, on foot. Mary will ride a donkey.
Who is this girl, Mary?
She is a cousin of Elizabeth, who is the mother of John, Zechariah’s son. Zechariah is an ordinary priest in the Temple, they live in a small village near Jerusalem.
Like most women in that day, Mary will have her first child in her middle-teens, at age 15 or 16. But she will not be alone, for she spent several months with Elizabeth, and Joseph and Mary will travel to Jerusalem for the great festivals three or four times a year and probably stay with Elizabeth, for Elizabeth’s home is an easy day-walk from Jerusalem.
The road onward from Jericho is steep, rocky, and dry. Here things get difficult, just as in our real lives there are times which are difficult.
Children are born and must be raised. Even the best children cause tremendous stress for their parents, for they are individuals, with the ability to act independently, the ability to think independently, the ability to sin – just as we have that ability.
We always want to raise our children in our own garden of Eden, don’t we? We want them to be safe, to grow, to explore, to learn good. But in the Garden beside the Tree of Life was the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. In the gardens we build for our children, we strive to give our children life – and we want to teach them the difference between good and evil. But the problem with this is that evil is an attractive part of the fruit. We can’t just eat the fruit of the Knowledge of Good, for with that fruit comes the Knowledge of Evil, it’s a single package, one fruit. To know what is Good, we and our children must understand Evil. And to know what is Evil, we and our children must understand what is Good. The serpent will always sneak in to teach about Evil.
Will we spend enough time teaching our children what is Good by reading to them from the Bible, by talking about those stories and readings, by helping them see how the Bible stories can apply to their lives? Or will we rely upon Children’s church, a half-hour a week? Sunday school can more than double that time. Kid’s and Parents time can add more as adults can take some time at breakfast or lunch or supper to read a half-chapter from the Bible to the family and then all can discuss it. If you want to start this, start now, for it is easier to start the tradition with young children. It’s hard to start when they are 17 and ready to leave home. Start today, for the serpent is slithering into your Garden.
We continue up the mountainside, the children turn into teens and the serpent talks to them. He comes into their lives in the disguise of their best friends, their popular classmates, the teacher who has always rebelled against religion. That 's why it's important they make friends who are godly - and the way they do this is to spend time in a church when they are young, when they are teens. But even still, the serpent whispers in to their ear, you come home one day, and they have decided not to listen to you. It is a dry day on the side of the mountain when this happens.
But there is comfort in this: You didn’t listen to your parents about everything. There were times you turned away and listened to the serpent. If you have taught them about good and evil, about sin – and most importantly about forgiveness and redemption – they will one day be able to break free, just as you have returned to the God you loved when you were young and living in the green valley of youth.
And God knows where each of those children are, just like God knows where you are this minute.
You look back over the edge and almost fall, for the Valley seems to call to you. You wobble on the path, trying to regain your balance. There is wisdom in the old warning to not look down. And you remember the warning from the angel to Lot’s wife – don’t look back! And far over the valley, on the other side of the River is the mound that is said to be Sodom of old.
Yet there is also beauty in looking back. The trick is to accept the beauty of what you came through, and not stop on the trail, leaning over so far to see our old life that we fall back into it. For Bethlehem is not at the bottom of the mountainside in the rich, beautiful, fertile valley, but is in the cool clear air at the top of the mountain of life. There is where we will meet the Babe.
When we honestly look back, we see that in addition to the pleasant downhill walk that was our time beside the River, there were mudholes, snakes, and fallen trees that blocked our path. Yet, there were also beautiful sights. A mixed bag.
Yet where we are going takes us up, up, up! We must travel up and not look back too much, or we may stumble and fall. And so we take a quick peek from time to time at the view from on high, looking over the Valley as we walk along a mostly flat ledge. Knowing where we’ve come from can give us courage for the climb – but focusing on where we’ve come from for too long can trip us up and make us fall. And so we relax for a couple of minutes on the ledge.
But there are other steep places to travel over. So we look back to the path and walk onward.
The path goes nearly vertical. At least it isn’t completely vertical. Experienced mountain climbers have found that it is absolutely critical to test what they hold onto before putting weight on it, to make sure that the rocks they hold onto are solidly part of the mountain, and not merely loose boulders that will come loose given fifty or a hundred pounds of pull.
You slip on loose stones and almost fall over the edge of the mountain. We all come to places where we loose our footing in life and slide down, down, down and teeter on the edge. Sometimes, it’s because we trusted too much in a job. Sometimes, it’s because a relationship breaks, like a rock slipping from under our feet. Sometimes we lose our footing because of an accident or a sudden illness. And we slip and slide and stumble, trying to find something stable to hold onto. And at that point, the breeze from the East blows hard against us, shoving us back onto the path, giving us a chance to find that stability again. And you remember again that the same word in the ancient languages means wind, breath, and spirit. Was that breeze the Holy Breath, the Holy Spirit of God saving us from falling, putting us back on course? Were you listening for a message as that breeze hit you?
Losing our stability from time to time is natural in this world. It happens because we make the wrong choices in our lives, choosing to treat the unstable as stable, the temporary as permanent, the sand as a rock-solid piece of the mountain. We hold onto people, to things, to jobs as though they were the solid Rock of Christ. And then, we are disappointed when they break loose. Think about it, what gives you stability in this life? Is it a job that could be eliminated, a company that could fold, a government program where funding could be cut, a person who could die or leave, a house made of wood that could burn in a night? Or is your stability based upon the solid relationship and faith between you and the Creator of the Universe? We have to remember that sometimes the insubstantial, invisible wind can bring us the most stability if it is the Holy Breath of God, the Holy Spirit speaking to us about the right course, what to hold onto and what to let go. Hold onto God’s Spirit, God’s Breath, God’s Holy Breeze, for it is more stable than earthly rocks.
But it is also wonderful to have good earthly relationships, people who treat us as they treat themselves. For there are many times on the trail to the top of the mountain where we are dry and dusty and thirsty, and someone gives us water, giving us the strength to climb a bit further. Our good friends give us water – yet there are always those who like to make fun of our thirst, pouring perfectly good water in the dust in front of us, laughing at our inability to talk through dry lips, our coughing when the dust hits, people who pour water on the ground in front of us to taunt us. And there is spiritual water as well as physical water, which takes a dry, dehydrated soul and gives it new energy, new endurance, new life! And, of course, there are people who listen to us and dry us out spiritually even more, making fun of us instead of making fun of the rocks, laughing at us instead of the shared journey, piling on their life problems instead of lifting our spirits with a shared uplifting story. Have you given someone else spiritual water recently, or have you poured it out on the ground in front of them, letting that spiritually boosting water soak into the ground? Have you lifted someone up over a steep part of the journey? Or have you kicked sand in their face? Are your relationships uplifting and supportive to others or do you pull people down, drag them down, threaten to pull them over the edge down into the valley again?
Mary and Joseph and the donkey worked together to climb the path. She rode, the donkey carried, and Joseph guided the donkey. And sometimes Mary got off the donkey and walked. They worked together to climb the mountainside. Perhaps it’s the same in your relationships. Perhaps not. A marriage is part of climbing the mountain. Sometimes it can be steep – other times, it is a relaxing walk along a wide ledge that slowly climbs the mountainside, allowing an easy passage up the mountain.
The Apostle Paul in Ephesians Chapter 5 gave good advice. He said for both the husband and wife to submit to each other as if they were submitting to the Lord. And this is important, for each spouse where possible to do for the other, to defer to the other, to submit to the other to help each other.
But there are times traveling up the mountainside when two different paths offer a way to travel. Both look good, but both are risky. Husband and wife talk it out. They hash out the good and bad of both courses. And when they’ve done this, eventually he says go left and she says go right. And, because they have the donkey, they must both go the same way. So they talk more and still can’t figure it out. And so, according to Paul, the wife makes the decision. She goes in the direction that the husband wants, respecting him, knowing that he loves her like Christ loved the church – which means he’s ready to die for her – which is also how Paul says a man should love a woman. As Christ loved the church.
Both the man and woman understand that he makes the final decision. But both the man and the woman understand that she has the holy duty to point out the risks, the advantages of the other course, that she simply must ask him, “Have you considered this?” And he understands that she is not nagging, not causing trouble, but is truly trying to help him make the best decision possible. And then, he makes the decision because he loves her and wants what is best for her. And she goes along because she respects him.
And if it goes wrong and the donkey falls over the hillside, she steps in to tell him that there is no one she’d rather be sitting beside on this hillside than him, no one who could have made a better decision, no one she respects more. And he looks at her, glad she was not on the donkey, because he loves her and she respects him. And he listens a bit more to her the next time, but for now, they keep climbing the hillside. Together.
Good earthly relationships help us climb the mountainside. But those relationships should not define us, like the woman who was completely lost after losing her husband of fifty years. “He did everything for me”, she said. God said back, “It’s time for you to grow and do with Me. Stick with Me, and the three of us will be together again one day soon.” Soon? How many years and decades is “soon”?
Remember Mary’s reaction to the angel Gabriel when he told her that she would bear the Son of God? “I am the Lord’s slave,” said Mary. “May it be done to me according to your word.” Her relationship with God defined her for all time. It was far more important to her than her relationships with her friends, family, the older women around who said things behind her back. It was even more important to her than her relationship with Joseph – And God rewarded her obedience, for God took care of her relationship with Joseph, making it strong by sending Joseph an angelic dream.
The road onward from Jericho is steep, rocky, and dry. Here things get difficult, just as in our real lives there are times which are difficult.
Children are born and must be raised. Even the best children cause tremendous stress for their parents, for they are individuals, with the ability to act independently, the ability to think independently, the ability to sin – just as we have that ability.
We always want to raise our children in our own garden of Eden, don’t we? We want them to be safe, to grow, to explore, to learn good. But in the Garden beside the Tree of Life was the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. In the gardens we build for our children, we strive to give our children life – and we want to teach them the difference between good and evil. But the problem with this is that evil is an attractive part of the fruit. We can’t just eat the fruit of the Knowledge of Good, for with that fruit comes the Knowledge of Evil, it’s a single package, one fruit. To know what is Good, we and our children must understand Evil. And to know what is Evil, we and our children must understand what is Good. The serpent will always sneak in to teach about Evil.
Will we spend enough time teaching our children what is Good by reading to them from the Bible, by talking about those stories and readings, by helping them see how the Bible stories can apply to their lives? Or will we rely upon Children’s church, a half-hour a week? Sunday school can more than double that time. Kid’s and Parents time can add more as adults can take some time at breakfast or lunch or supper to read a half-chapter from the Bible to the family and then all can discuss it. If you want to start this, start now, for it is easier to start the tradition with young children. It’s hard to start when they are 17 and ready to leave home. Start today, for the serpent is slithering into your Garden.
We continue up the mountainside, the children turn into teens and the serpent talks to them. He comes into their lives in the disguise of their best friends, their popular classmates, the teacher who has always rebelled against religion. That 's why it's important they make friends who are godly - and the way they do this is to spend time in a church when they are young, when they are teens. But even still, the serpent whispers in to their ear, you come home one day, and they have decided not to listen to you. It is a dry day on the side of the mountain when this happens.
But there is comfort in this: You didn’t listen to your parents about everything. There were times you turned away and listened to the serpent. If you have taught them about good and evil, about sin – and most importantly about forgiveness and redemption – they will one day be able to break free, just as you have returned to the God you loved when you were young and living in the green valley of youth.
And God knows where each of those children are, just like God knows where you are this minute.
You look back over the edge and almost fall, for the Valley seems to call to you. You wobble on the path, trying to regain your balance. There is wisdom in the old warning to not look down. And you remember the warning from the angel to Lot’s wife – don’t look back! And far over the valley, on the other side of the River is the mound that is said to be Sodom of old.
Yet there is also beauty in looking back. The trick is to accept the beauty of what you came through, and not stop on the trail, leaning over so far to see our old life that we fall back into it. For Bethlehem is not at the bottom of the mountainside in the rich, beautiful, fertile valley, but is in the cool clear air at the top of the mountain of life. There is where we will meet the Babe.
When we honestly look back, we see that in addition to the pleasant downhill walk that was our time beside the River, there were mudholes, snakes, and fallen trees that blocked our path. Yet, there were also beautiful sights. A mixed bag.
Yet where we are going takes us up, up, up! We must travel up and not look back too much, or we may stumble and fall. And so we take a quick peek from time to time at the view from on high, looking over the Valley as we walk along a mostly flat ledge. Knowing where we’ve come from can give us courage for the climb – but focusing on where we’ve come from for too long can trip us up and make us fall. And so we relax for a couple of minutes on the ledge.
But there are other steep places to travel over. So we look back to the path and walk onward.
The path goes nearly vertical. At least it isn’t completely vertical. Experienced mountain climbers have found that it is absolutely critical to test what they hold onto before putting weight on it, to make sure that the rocks they hold onto are solidly part of the mountain, and not merely loose boulders that will come loose given fifty or a hundred pounds of pull.
You slip on loose stones and almost fall over the edge of the mountain. We all come to places where we loose our footing in life and slide down, down, down and teeter on the edge. Sometimes, it’s because we trusted too much in a job. Sometimes, it’s because a relationship breaks, like a rock slipping from under our feet. Sometimes we lose our footing because of an accident or a sudden illness. And we slip and slide and stumble, trying to find something stable to hold onto. And at that point, the breeze from the East blows hard against us, shoving us back onto the path, giving us a chance to find that stability again. And you remember again that the same word in the ancient languages means wind, breath, and spirit. Was that breeze the Holy Breath, the Holy Spirit of God saving us from falling, putting us back on course? Were you listening for a message as that breeze hit you?
Losing our stability from time to time is natural in this world. It happens because we make the wrong choices in our lives, choosing to treat the unstable as stable, the temporary as permanent, the sand as a rock-solid piece of the mountain. We hold onto people, to things, to jobs as though they were the solid Rock of Christ. And then, we are disappointed when they break loose. Think about it, what gives you stability in this life? Is it a job that could be eliminated, a company that could fold, a government program where funding could be cut, a person who could die or leave, a house made of wood that could burn in a night? Or is your stability based upon the solid relationship and faith between you and the Creator of the Universe? We have to remember that sometimes the insubstantial, invisible wind can bring us the most stability if it is the Holy Breath of God, the Holy Spirit speaking to us about the right course, what to hold onto and what to let go. Hold onto God’s Spirit, God’s Breath, God’s Holy Breeze, for it is more stable than earthly rocks.
But it is also wonderful to have good earthly relationships, people who treat us as they treat themselves. For there are many times on the trail to the top of the mountain where we are dry and dusty and thirsty, and someone gives us water, giving us the strength to climb a bit further. Our good friends give us water – yet there are always those who like to make fun of our thirst, pouring perfectly good water in the dust in front of us, laughing at our inability to talk through dry lips, our coughing when the dust hits, people who pour water on the ground in front of us to taunt us. And there is spiritual water as well as physical water, which takes a dry, dehydrated soul and gives it new energy, new endurance, new life! And, of course, there are people who listen to us and dry us out spiritually even more, making fun of us instead of making fun of the rocks, laughing at us instead of the shared journey, piling on their life problems instead of lifting our spirits with a shared uplifting story. Have you given someone else spiritual water recently, or have you poured it out on the ground in front of them, letting that spiritually boosting water soak into the ground? Have you lifted someone up over a steep part of the journey? Or have you kicked sand in their face? Are your relationships uplifting and supportive to others or do you pull people down, drag them down, threaten to pull them over the edge down into the valley again?
Mary and Joseph and the donkey worked together to climb the path. She rode, the donkey carried, and Joseph guided the donkey. And sometimes Mary got off the donkey and walked. They worked together to climb the mountainside. Perhaps it’s the same in your relationships. Perhaps not. A marriage is part of climbing the mountain. Sometimes it can be steep – other times, it is a relaxing walk along a wide ledge that slowly climbs the mountainside, allowing an easy passage up the mountain.
The Apostle Paul in Ephesians Chapter 5 gave good advice. He said for both the husband and wife to submit to each other as if they were submitting to the Lord. And this is important, for each spouse where possible to do for the other, to defer to the other, to submit to the other to help each other.
But there are times traveling up the mountainside when two different paths offer a way to travel. Both look good, but both are risky. Husband and wife talk it out. They hash out the good and bad of both courses. And when they’ve done this, eventually he says go left and she says go right. And, because they have the donkey, they must both go the same way. So they talk more and still can’t figure it out. And so, according to Paul, the wife makes the decision. She goes in the direction that the husband wants, respecting him, knowing that he loves her like Christ loved the church – which means he’s ready to die for her – which is also how Paul says a man should love a woman. As Christ loved the church.
Both the man and woman understand that he makes the final decision. But both the man and the woman understand that she has the holy duty to point out the risks, the advantages of the other course, that she simply must ask him, “Have you considered this?” And he understands that she is not nagging, not causing trouble, but is truly trying to help him make the best decision possible. And then, he makes the decision because he loves her and wants what is best for her. And she goes along because she respects him.
And if it goes wrong and the donkey falls over the hillside, she steps in to tell him that there is no one she’d rather be sitting beside on this hillside than him, no one who could have made a better decision, no one she respects more. And he looks at her, glad she was not on the donkey, because he loves her and she respects him. And he listens a bit more to her the next time, but for now, they keep climbing the hillside. Together.
Good earthly relationships help us climb the mountainside. But those relationships should not define us, like the woman who was completely lost after losing her husband of fifty years. “He did everything for me”, she said. God said back, “It’s time for you to grow and do with Me. Stick with Me, and the three of us will be together again one day soon.” Soon? How many years and decades is “soon”?
Remember Mary’s reaction to the angel Gabriel when he told her that she would bear the Son of God? “I am the Lord’s slave,” said Mary. “May it be done to me according to your word.” Her relationship with God defined her for all time. It was far more important to her than her relationships with her friends, family, the older women around who said things behind her back. It was even more important to her than her relationship with Joseph – And God rewarded her obedience, for God took care of her relationship with Joseph, making it strong by sending Joseph an angelic dream.
Perspective. We look up at the mountainside above us and it seems like such a long hard climb ahead. And then we turn and look out and down, and we realize that we’ve already covered most of the distance, that the valley is far, far, below us. And this terrible, terrible climb for us - to the eagles who circle above it is nothing.
Altogether, as we climb from the Jordan River to Bethlehem, we will climb 3800 feet, over four times the height of Seneca Rocks, over three times the height of the Empire State Building. But that is still less than a mile. And the diameter of the earth is about 8000 miles. From space, this part of the earth is smoother than a marble.
Perspective is everything. Our terrible climb on the mountainside of life is 60, 80, a hundred years. But from the point of view of Heaven, it is nothing compared to eternity. Our legs ache now – one day, we will remember the flash that is this life in an easy chair. What will be important about this life ten thousand years from now? Will the fact someone dented your car at Walmart matter? Will it matter if the chicken in the refrigerator spoiled and had to be thrown out? Does the color of your fingernails matter, the exact number of points on that buck you shot, whether you are paid $14 per hour or $15 per hour? None of these things will matter – only the people you brought to an understanding of Christ will matter. It will all boil down to this: Did you climb the mountainside? Who did you lead up the mountainside?
Perspective is everything.
And the clearest perspective is from the top. I have it on good authority that the first 84 years are the toughest. This from a woman who died at 84 ¾ years of age. Perhaps that’s why so many pastors tell people considering becoming pastors that they wish they’d started pastoring 20 years before they started. Perhaps perspective is why so many older Christians move to be with their grandchildren instead of moving away from family. Perhaps that’s why we don’t remember our old pastors and Sunday school teachers by their charge conference forms, their paperwork, the songs they picked, their bulletin boards, the order of their worship service. We remember old pastors and Sunday School teachers by the times when their sermons, their talks, their teaching, their advice helped us climb over those steep, scary patches on the mountainside of life.
Mary had perspective. One day, many years after her journey to Bethlehem, she had to wait at the foot of a cross and hear her favorite son tell her that His student John was now her son, and that John would now take care of her.
Another twenty or so years later, she told a kindly man named Luke about everything that happened when that favorite son was born, how she had traveled from Nazareth down the Valley and up the steep mountainside to Bethlehem. But that journey didn’t seem to be nearly as important in the retelling as the visit from Gabriel, the arrival in Bethlehem, the boy’s birth, and the shepherd’s visit. It wasn’t nearly as important as the later visit from the travelers from the East. It wasn’t nearly as important as the day her son died – and the morning He lived again. The climb up the mountainside on a donkey’s back was just about the ordinary struggles of her life, soon forgotten, not important.. Her Son’s story was about all of our lives, eternally. Of immense importance.
And so we reach the top and look back. There is the Valley, way back there. There is the Dead Sea, the Sea of Death we would have gone to if we had decided to stay in the Valley by continuing the easy path by the River. But the journey up the steep mountainside to Bethlehem is about avoiding the Sea of Death.
But now? Now that we are at the top, the wind is blowing again, a cold wind that swirls around us. It’s time to head south overland to Bethlehem. For the Babe will be here soon and we don’t want to be wandering, lost on the road when the storm arrives.
And so we reach the top and look back. There is the Valley, way back there. There is the Dead Sea, the Sea of Death we would have gone to if we had decided to stay in the Valley by continuing the easy path by the River. But the journey up the steep mountainside to Bethlehem is about avoiding the Sea of Death.
But now? Now that we are at the top, the wind is blowing again, a cold wind that swirls around us. It’s time to head south overland to Bethlehem. For the Babe will be here soon and we don’t want to be wandering, lost on the road when the storm arrives.
Consider the story I’ve told, for The Holy Spirit has a story to write today – a story in our hearts. What will your story be? Take a moment to pray to God and find out...
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