I’ve followed Jesus up one mountain. I’ve watched Satan tempt Jesus from this mount, urging him to gain the nations through quick and easy means (Matt. 4).
I’ve followed Jesus up another mountain. I’ve listened to him preach from this mount a sermon which summarizes an astounding way of life (Matt. 5).
I’ve followed Jesus up a third mountain. I’ve witnessed Jesus spend the night on the mount in prayer to the Father (Matt. 14).
I’ve followed Jesus up a fourth mountain. I’ve watched him heal helpless people on this mount (Matt. 15).
I’ve followed Jesus up a fifth mountain. I’ve beheld his glory as he is transfigured on this mount (Matt. 17).
And today I follow him up one final mountain (Matt. 28). The resurrected Jesus is here. My ten closest friends are here. Because of what we’ve experienced on the other mountains and because of the presence of the resurrected Jesus on this mountain, some of us worship (v. 17). Yet in spite of what we’ve experienced on the other mountains and in spite of the presence of the resurrected Jesus on this mountain, some of us doubt (v. 17).
Frankly, I still have my own doubts. After all this time, why are there only 11 of us-shouldn’t the entire country have fallen for Jesus by now? Why are our numbers still so small? Why isn’t the way of Jesus more popular? And, why me? I’m still so flawed and full of faults. What’s someone like me doing on a mountain with a Messiah like this? And, is this little band of brothers going to make it? Judas left us; the rest of us scattered when the going got tough. Is there enough conviction/loyalty among us to make it? And, what’s life going to be like without the physical presence of Jesus? Sure, he promises on this mountain that he’s going to be with us always-but he’s not going to be physically present. Can I live out a faith in which Jesus is not physically present to me?
How about you? What doubts fill your heart and mind as you stand on this final mountain with a resurrected Jesus?
But I also worship. I’m filled with awe that this Jesus, so tortured on the cross, stands now before me. I’m speechless in light of all we’ve been through together. I can’t believe he’s invited me to this final peak. I fall to my knees in view of his compassion, conviction and character.
And now Jesus says, “Go.” “Go and make disciples of all nations.” “Baptize them in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.” “Teach them to observe all that I have commanded you.” “Go.”
Oddly, Matthew ends his account right there. With every other mountain scene there’s been a sense of resolution. We’ve always seen what came next. But here, it’s different. Matthew leaves me on this mountain. I’ve wrestled with my doubts. I’ve fallen to my knees. I’ve been commissioned to help others follow just as I’ve learned to follow. And that’s where Matthew leaves me. That’s where he leaves us all. The story ends with us on that mountain having been invited to join Jesus in mission.
Why? This seems to be Matthew’s and Jesus’ way of leaving the invitation with me, of giving me some time and space to consider it. It seems to be there way of asking the hard question: What are you going to do with this invitation? Will you accept it? Will you reject it? Jesus and Matthew seem to be saying, “Here’s a mission that will take your lifetime, that will give you purpose and meaning, and that will make a tremendous difference. Will you accept it?”
I hear Jesus asking that question not just generally, but very specifically. I don’t think he’s asking if I will go to some nameless place and to some faceless people. I think he’s got concrete details in mind. Will you accept the invitation to go into the kitchen and use words and works in such a way that your wife is drawn deeper into Jesus? Will you accept the invitation to go into Sam’s when you pick up supplies for Saturday’s party and use words and works in such a way that the cashier is drawn deeper into Jesus? Will you accept the invitation to take that scheduled phone call this afternoon with a preaching colleague and use words and works in such a way that he is drawn deeper into Jesus? As these 30 days of mostly silence come to an end, will you accept the invitation to re-enter your ministry at Highland, drawing each person you serve closer to Jesus?
And will you do this in the reality that I am present with you? In each situation, with every person, from the mundane to the majestic, I will be present. Will you discern my presence? Will you watch and listen for my presence? Will you follow my lead as I strive to guide you through each interaction? Just as you’ve been able to sense my presence during these 30 days of mostly silence, I want you to continue to sense that presence in the days to come. I want you to remain in the habits and practices you’ve learned so that you can see and hear me in these interactions with people.
As I stand with Jesus on this mountain, these are the questions he asks me to answer. And so begins my final “week” in the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises.
