Jon Levenson, a professor of Hebrew Bible at Harvard School, said once that ‘geology is simply a visible form of theology.’ This came to me as I was making my way up the side of South Sister, a 10,358 foot peak in central Oregon. It was a tough climb Five hours straight up, through loose volcanic, rocky soil. And then four hours straight down. I did a lot of praying along the way.
All Trails is a cell phone app that offer guidance on thousands of hikes around the world. According to them, the South Sister climb takes an average of 11 hours. And they are very clear about the need to leave as early in the morning as possible; no later than 900am. I started at noon. And bring lots of water. And a flashlight. Yes on the water, but no on the flashlight, which left me wandering around in the dark at the bottom of the trail, desperately looking for the parking lot and frantically clicking our car’s key fob until I finally heard the faint beeping of the lock. But the stars were gorgeous.
The bible is full of mountain top experiences. Most famous perhaps is the revelation of God to Moses on Sinai (or perhaps it is more accurate to say the multiple revelations to Moses on Sinai). Out of this mysterious (and slightly terrifying) encounter comes the central act of formation of Israel as the people of God. The Sinai experience is certainly on the mind of the writer of Matthew’s gospel when he stitches together a compilation of Jesus’ teachings as Sermon on the Mount.
The theologian Belden Lane writes in his book, The Solace of Fierce Landscapes, that the pleasure in climbing a mountain does not always come in reaching the summit, but in ‘carrying on the task (of climbing) in the face of doubt’ about whether the summit will actually be reached or will ‘prove unattainable.’ The ‘human spirit,’ he concludes, ‘delights in the exercise of uncertainty.’ I think there’s something in that. There’s also something gracious in the company that is formed along the way. I was one of a number of people making their way up the mountain alone, and throughout the climb we would stop to rest and convince each other that we could do it, that we could reach the top.
The climb was awful, but as the pictures below hopefully show, the view from the top was worth the effort.
Out of the Wilderness 
Still snow at 10,000 ft. amazing. In my flying days I had to put my oxygen mask on at that altitude.
Marinus
Your photos are breath taking, your reflections thought provoking, and your tales of accomplishments as well as a few missteps are entertaining. I hope you are soaking up everything as you experience God s company along your various paths. Peace, Suzanne Sale