Mountains and Valleys

Ready 1 Peter 4:12-19 and Ecclesiastes 11:1-8 to start.

This will probably not come as a surprise to anyone, but I’m not a climber. I really don’t climb all that much. Not trees, not rocks, not ladders if I can help it, and certainly not mountains. Stairs I can handle. I might hike trails from time to time, but climbing is more of a challenge for me. Having short legs and being a heavyset person doesn’t exactly mesh with vertical ascents.

Some people do like to climb mountains though. People climb pretty much every mountain there is, even when it’s incredibly dangerous. Sometimes I expect because it’s incredibly dangerous. More than 400 people have died on Mount Everest, for example, five of them so far this year. I certainly wouldn’t want to try climbing it myself, especially when weighed against the risk, but lots of people do it. All of those dead bodies on Everest, for example, were once highly motivated individuals. They wanted to get the top of the tallest mountain on earth, and they endured severe hardship to do so, even at the cost of their lives.

Anyone who climbs a mountain wants to get to the top. There’s a term we use for that, achieving a mountaintop moment. That’s the feeling of accomplishment after achieving something difficult, something that took a lot of work, a lot of time, and lot of difficulty. It’s a feeling of arrival and success; it’s described as being on top of the world.

While I don’t climb, I do walk, and I do hike. I’ve hiked the Skyline Trail in Cape Breton twice, for example, and I can tell you that while it’s certainly not easy, the view is absolutely breathtaking. That’s the closest comparable thing to climbing a mountain in my personal experience. While that was a much smaller endeavour, and far less risky, it was definitely some physical effort, but it was worth it.

In this life, you will experience mountaintop moments. Or at least you should. Maybe not on the tops of literal mountains, but there will be times when you feel that you have reached a higher level. Last week on Sunday evening we heard a sermon about living on a higher level, about not being content with things that are small and lacking and basic, about seeing what God actually has for you. I think we would all like to reach that, we would all like to be on a higher level, whatever that might happen to look like for each of us.

It feels good to reach a new level, to accomplish something, whether on a personal level, professional level, or a spiritual level. It is important that we do so, for our mental wellbeing is very much tied up in moving forward, moving onward, moving upward. God created us to have purpose, to achieve. We are not supposed to merely exist.

But we may not like putting in the effort. We want the outcome, but not the input. We like to think that we can get where we want to go without putting in the work. And certainly there are some things that no amount of work can achieve. No matter how hard I work at it, I will never be able to pay for my own salvation, for example. But most things do require effort, and in this life there will be challenges, difficulties, and struggles. This is part of living in a fallen world. Even in Eden when God put the man in the garden, he was told to dress it and keep it, he had work to do. Adam was not told to sit around and do nothing. He was expected to be active. He was created to have a purpose, to have responsibility, to work.

Imagine that instead of climbing a mountain, or hiking a long trail, instead you were able to have a helicopter fly you to the summit. That’s not actually possible for Everest, it’s taller than the practical altitude limit for helicopters, the winds at the peak are far too high, and there’s nowhere to land, anyway, but it is possible for some smaller mountains. Does taking a helicopter ride to a mountaintop have the same outcome? You’re at the same location, and the view might be identical, but how you got there is very different. The level of effort is certainly not the same. Taking a helicopter would not count as climbing the mountain, even if it does get you to the summit. You got there without putting in the work.

Here’s the thing, mountaintop moments come after great effort. Generally they come after we endure and are we suffer. As it takes effort and it takes time to climb an actual mountain or walk a long trail, so achieving what God has for you takes time and effort. It does not just happen, and it’s not something you suddenly arrive at. There are no shortcuts or free rides, there is no helicopter option.

Following God takes effort. Trusting Him takes faith, and it takes patience. It takes time. It takes discomfort. And ultimately, it takes suffering.

We don’t like suffering. And of course, the very nature of suffering is that it is unpleasant, it is the opposite of enjoyment. In our society today, we actively avoid suffering to the point that many people don’t know how to cope with adversity when it confronts them. We have sought to smooth out so many of the lumps and bumps, the obstacles and challenges, that we may forget what those look like. There is a whole industry of making life easier and more pleasant and less difficult. In this country we may not see the sort of suffering that is common in many other parts of the world, and so we may come to the conclusion that suffering can be entirely avoided. But it cannot.

In the passage I read to start, we see how the writer of Ecclesiastes, presumably Solomon, reminds us how we should be active and involved, generous and industrious, but not be under the delusion that we can control everything. We can do our part, we can do our best with what God has given us, and frankly, we should do our best with His provision, but we should not expect everything to be happy ever after. Enjoy the light, but remember that there is going to be darkness. It is inevitable.

We want to avoid suffering, we want to minimize difficulty and challenge. We want sure and safe things, and we want them without difficulty or delay. We want to get to the mountaintop and then stay there. Because our society has done so much to mitigate it and has conditioned us to expect minimal suffering, we may go a long time without experiencing much of it. Because of this we may find ourselves at the point where even mild discomfort or inconvenience is confused with actual suffering.

It is ironic that our efforts to relieve suffering have left us with a diminished ability to deal with it. Because if we have done a thorough job of avoiding suffering, that will make us less able to cope with it when it comes. And sooner or later, it’s going to show up.

That last verse I read from Ecclesiastes chapter 11, let me read that again. (8) But if a man live many years, and rejoice in them all; yet let him remember the days of darkness; for they shall be many. All that cometh is vanity. This should be a keen reminder that no matter how well things might be going now, there will be dark days ahead. Maybe not tomorrow, and maybe not the day after, but inevitably those will come. Sometimes we think we can get by without suffering. But that’s simply not the case.

I didn’t set out to write a depressing sermon, I really didn’t. But the subject is important, because as much as we like mountaintop moments, as much as we look for those and try to chase them, no one stays on the summit indefinitely. It’s called a mountaintop moment, not a mountaintop rest-of-existence.

Sometimes we would like to believe that if we follow God well enough, if we are obedient and consistent and faithful, then we will just stay on the high ground all the time. This is not a new or fanciful notion, if you think about hymns like “Dwelling in Beulah Land” that talks about living on the mountain or “Higher Ground” that talks about standing on Heaven’s table land. We might have this idea that if we live the Christian life correctly, we can get up and stay up. It sounds great, but it’s not remotely realistic. God never promised that to us, in fact, we are told quite the opposite.

Even if you are walking closely with God, there are going to be deep valleys of hardship and sadness, and we have to know how to deal with those just as much as with being up on top.

Things are not going to be easy all the time. In fact, they are probably not going to be easy lots of the time. Do you know what is easy? Going down a hill. If I walk from my place into Montague, it’s downhill most of the way. I’ve done that walk lots of times. It’s not a lot of effort at all, it’s pretty straightforward. The return trip is another story, mind you, but the way down, that’s smooth sailing. It’s easy to go down an incline, and it may not seem like that’s a bad thing, at least not from a distance.

Sometimes the destination is not so good, even if we don’t realize it on the way down. When I was a kid, we lived for several years on Lincolnwood Drive, across the street from the Charlottetown Bible Chapel. Our driveway was almost perfectly lined up with the street that ran behind the chapel, Cedar Avenue. That street is pretty much entirely a hill, and sometimes as kids we would ride our bikes down the hill. Getting to the top was not fun, mind you, but the ride down was fast, and it was fun. If you aimed correctly, with only a slight turn you could ride right down the hill and into our driveway without slowing down, and then you could stop in the backyard.

Yes, I recognize that this crossed a street and was a foolish and fairly dangerous thing to do, but this was the 1980s, it was a different time and we didn’t think about safety the same way we do now. We didn’t think much about safety at all. This province didn’t even require people to wear seatbelts until 1987, but I digress. Safety was not top of mind. But maybe it should have been.

One time, after rolling down the hill at a good clip, I missed the turn into the driveway. It wasn’t perfectly lined up, remember. But you know what was lined up? A telephone pole. I hit that with my bike, and my face. Yeah, we didn’t wear bike helmets in the 1980s either.

No, I didn’t have to go to the hospital for a broken face, but maybe I should have been checked for a concussion. Like I said, this was the 80s. My point is that going downhill seemed fine and seemed fun, until it wasn’t. The sudden stop at the bottom made sure of that.

In life, going downhill is usually easy, and it’s sometimes enjoyable, until it isn’t. It’s usually not a good thing, though. In fact, it almost never is. It’s built right in to the language and how we use it. If something is obviously deteriorating, we describe it as “going downhill.” If we look at something that went wrong, we might describe the point where it started to be problematic as when it started going downhill. I’m 50 now, and I’m surprised no one got me a birthday card saying “You’re over the hill.” Actually, I’m thankful that no one did. The implication is that things are not going to get better from here on out. I don’t know if that’s entirely the case, in some ways I might be more healthy now than I was when I turned 40 and was still getting used to having diabetes, but unless I live past 100, I’m closer to the end of my life than the beginning.

You know what? I’ve had a lot of great moments in my life, a lot of times that were wonderful, happy, joyous, and frankly, when I felt beyond blessed. But there have been other times. Times when everything seemed to go completely wrong, when it felt like nothing was going right, nothing was going to go right, and there was no obvious way out. And there have been times when I felt that maybe if I worked hard enough, and did the right things, made the right plans, and followed through on them perfectly, then things would turn out okay, but then that didn’t work either. I’ve had both of those happen, and if those are at opposite ends of the spectrum of suffering, then all of that and lots that falls in between as well. We might not like it, but that’s part of being alive.

If you are living the Christian life, however, then it should look a little different than it does for the world at large. We have a hope that the world does not have, a hope of salvation and eternal life. And what’s more, we have God looking after us in this life.

Earlier we heard a reading from 1 Peter chapter 4. In that passage, Peter talks about suffering, about the fiery trial that the believers in Asia and the surrounding areas faced. They were dealing with persecution because of their affiliation with the Lord Jesus Christ, and Peter told them not to be surprised by this. Don’t think this is strange he told them. Rejoice that you are able to partake in Christ’s sufferings, be happy that you suffer reproach because you profess His name. This is not something to be ashamed of, but this actually brings glory to God, despite the world’s best efforts.

It is not natural for us to be happy about suffering, no matter the reason. It is not pleasant or enjoyable, of course. But if we suffer for something that has a reward, then that is certainly better. If you go to the gym and do a workout, and then you feel sore afterwards, you can recognize that it has done your body good. If you studied hard for a test and then, come what may, at least you have the satisfaction of having put in the effort. If you worked strenuously for a long shift, then you can be satisfied with a job well done. All of those are small, minor sufferings that we choose to endure because we expect the results will be worthwhile. If we suffer for something that truly matters, if we suffer because we have chosen to align ourselves with Christ and with His kingdom, then so much the better. Even if we didn’t choose the suffering itself, we are choosing the outcome.

And we know that God will take care of those who suffer for Him. In the last verse of the chapter, we read that those who suffer according to the will of God commit their souls to Him. Following God is not going to be easy, and it’s not going to be safe, not by the standards of this world. But we are warned repeatedly in scripture that we should expect it. The world hated our Saviour, and it persecuted and killed Him because of it. If we take up His cross and follow Him, if we actually do that with sincerity, and with consistency, then it’s more surprising if we don’t experience blowback, if we don’t get any resistance or objection from the world.

Now, if you get into trouble because you have been behaving badly, that’s another story. It’s interesting to look at the four items which Peter calls out in verse 15. Don’t be a murderer, well, obviously. The world at large is going to agree on that, and most everyone is going to agree that yes, if you commit murders then you should be punished. Next Peter mentions a thief, also that’s pretty obvious. We all know that we should not steal. We don’t like it when people take our stuff, we would want them to get into trouble for it. Or an evil doer, which in other translations is a criminal, again, that should go without saying that there should be repercussions. Those first three are all known and understood to be bad behaviours, and if we do them then we should suffer the consequences.

 But the fourth one is a bit different–a busybody who meddles with other people’s matters and perhaps stirs up strife. That feels a long way from murder or other criminal activity. But Peter calls it out just the same. I don’t know about you, but I don’t normally mention meddling on the same list as murder. These are not on the same level, and certainly, the consequences are not going to be the same. However, Peter cautions the church that if someone suffers for doing wrong, whether this is a serious crime, or a small and petty transgression, it’s still suffering that has nothing to do with our faith.

If we experience hardship because we did great evil, or if we stirred up a little trouble, well, we can’t exactly say that it has anything to do with our Christian faith. Trying to suggest otherwise is self deception at best. We can’t call ourselves persecuted if we bring it on ourselves from poor choices. If you decide to go rolling down the hill, well, then the bumps and bruises you get along the way are a natural consequence.

There’s a verse in Proverbs that I’m reminded of, it’s chapter 22, verse 3, and if you happen to miss that one, then it’s repeated in chapter 27, verse 12. (3)  A prudent man foreseeth the evil, and hideth himself: but the simple pass on, and are punished. In case that’s a bit obscure, here it is from a more basic English translation, (3) Sensible people will see trouble coming and avoid it, but an unthinking person will walk right into it and regret it later.

Sometimes we think that because things appear to be going well, because we feel like we are on top, then nothing is going to knock us down. But that is shortsighted, and does not reflect reality. We might also think that because God promised that He will preserve those whom He loves, then we are always safe. But while God does protect those who love and serve Him, He doesn’t do this as a blanket statement. He will preserve His saints from Hell, from eternal damnation, but not from all danger.

This life is challenging enough as it is. Don’t go out looking for trouble, or blindly march forwards unaware of obstacles and suffering that might await you. This should be reasonable and obvious, but sometimes it’s not. Sometimes we think we can avoid the trouble because we know better, or because God will protect us, or because the odds are in our favour.

You might like bacon, and you might like dogs. But that doesn’t mean you should fill your pockets with bacon and then go to the dog park. There is enough suffering in this life as it is. If we bring harm upon ourselves, or perhaps on others, because we made foolish choices, then hopefully we learn from those and make wiser decisions in the future.

If you follow Christ, you will experience highs and lows, mountains and valleys, success and suffering in this life. If you don’t follow Christ, well, you will also experience many of those same things, and you will do doubt also experience hardship and suffering. The difference is in how you react at either end of the spectrum, and how you look at God’s provision in either case.

In closing, I’m going to read the most familiar verse in the book of Philippians, and perhaps the most misused verse in all of scripture. It’s verse 13 in particular, but I’ll read from verse 11 to establish the context. (11)  Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. (12)  I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. (13)  I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.

A lot of people use that last verse almost as a mantra, as a motivational phrase to say that they can accomplish anything because the Lord gives them strength. But what Paul was telling the Philippian church was not about doing great and difficult things, but about the opposites of being full or being empty, about being content regardless of condition. This is as much about losing as it is about winning.

When we are on the mountaintop, when we feel like we have arrived, whether the road there was exceedingly difficult or if it was fairly straightforward, we need to remember how we got there, who provided for us, and who helped us along the way. God carries us along the way, and often He uses the people around us to help in one way or another. We must not think that we made it all on our own, that leads always to pride, and that leads inevitably to a fall.

And when we are on the down slope, or at the bottom of the valley, we must remember that God has not abandoned us. If find ourselves there because we followed Christ, the God will bless us and preserve us. But even if we are there because of our own poor choices, God still loves His children and will bring us out of it, one way or another, should we put our trust in Him. This may well involve suffering and difficulty, and it may not at all look the way we want or expect, but God wants good for each and every one of us.

No matter where we find ourselves, we need to put our trust in the Lord, and to keep it there, come what may. That is the only way successful way to live, and to serve God, and the only way to endure the suffering that we are sure to encounter in this difficult and challenging world.