The View from the Mountain Top

It is the final chapter. The end of the five books called 'Pentateuch', the order still memorized from long ago "Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy". It is the final chapter of the Torah, and the final chapter of Moses' life. Standing there in Moab, on the border of the Promised Land Moses has spoken his last will and testament ... all thirty three chapters worth! Thirty three chapters in Deuteronomy of law meant for their new life settled in the land of milk and honey. And when the speech comes to an end Moses leaves the people down on the plains and climbs up to the top of Mount Nebo to catch his only glimpse of the land he has dreamed of all these years. Imagine that ... Moses one hundred and twenty year old Moses climbing to the top of Mount Nebo. It was said of him that even at a hundred and twenty "his sight was unimpaired and his vigour had not abated." That's an understatement if there ever was one! I wonder what that climb was like ... really. I wonder what Moses thinks about as he puts one foot in front of the other slowly working his way to the top. I wonder, if like most centenarians he spends time looking back over the years that have brought him here. Moab is pretty dry country tumble weed country. and down near the foot of Mount Nebo Moses passes flocks of sheep looking for grass among the tumble weeds. How long has it been since he was minding his business among the sheep when he caught sight of a tumble weed on fire. He wasn't a young man even then. Who could have predicted the direction his life would take? And it all turned on the bush that caught his eye and on the voice that would not let him go. No matter how hard he tried to turn aside God kept insisting. Even now Moses shakes his head in astonishment at the craziness of it all. He who was afraid to speak in public ... he would take on Pharoah? It had all seemed so impossible then ... turning his head and glancing at the encampment below him, catching sight of the children playing Moses can still hardly believe it half a century later. As the trail gets steeper Moses knows it is half a century later by the pain in his legs and his lungs. Others may have said that Moses has not lost any vigour but Moses tells a different story. At the end of Moses' great speech he put it this way: "I am now one hundred and twenty years old. I am no longer able to get about" (Deut. 31:2). So now Moses complains ... like all hikers who set out for the top ... surely Moses complains. Perhaps it is an unspoken word of frustration with his body, maybe he blurts it out loud ... "I will never make it ... why did I ever even begin this climb. To think that I believed that God would let me see the land!" But when he hears his own words of complaint he laughs. He laughs because he recognizes that sound. For forty years he has been listening to the sound of complaint "There's not enough food. not enough water not enough stability or security like we had back in slavery. And no sight of the Promised Land ... maybe it doesn't even exist" If he had heard it once he had heard it a thousand times. Now in his own words he hears it again ... and he laughs. He laughs ... and he leans on his cane. Well, in fact, it is his staff. The staff that he has carried with him all these years. And he remembers. He remembers how God had responded everytime the complaining threatened the journey. It was always the rod in Moses' hands that brought the miracle. Striking the water at the Red Sea. Striking the rock in the wilderness. Stiriking down the poisonous serpents, too. It was always a surprise to Moses to discover again just how close at hand lay the power of God. It was not his he could not draw water from a rock if he had tried. But the presence of God was close by. He had come to trust that God hears the cries of the people. "Maybe that is the Wisdom of the elders" he thinks to himself and then suddenly realizes what he is telling himself. The staff is still close at hand ... surely God hears even old man Moses' cry for strength. With that, he finds his second wind and looks up ahead to the peak of Mount Nebo. Of course, he can't look at the peak of this mountain without recalling another climb on another mountain almost four decades earlier. Mount Sinai provided a different view. A view of wilderness as far as the eye could see. And a view of the company of slaves in disarray down on the plains. They had been liberated ... freed from the tyranny of Pharoah's oppressive law. But now they had no law no order only every man and woman and child to themselves. If this was freedom then no wonder so many of them cried out for the good old days back in Cairo. Climbing up Mount Nebo Moses recalls the excitement in his bones as he had climbed down Mount Sinai. The law he brought with him was such good news, such gospel, that he could hardly contain himself. Loving God with all one's heart, mind, soul and strength; loving one's neighbour as oneself ... this was the law of love for which they had been desperate. It was as if he could taste it ... as if it were the sweetest honey one could imagine. A law whose limits brought freedom. It was like finding the Promised Land in the middle of the wilderness. Suddenly Moses realizes that by keeping his mind on other things he has tricked his old body into climbing farther than he could havec believed. There, just ahead is the summit. There ... one final rise to a lone rock and a magnificent view. Sitting down, Moses catches his breath and looks westward. The view is, literally, unbelievable. He sees the Promised Land, yes. But not just some of the Promised Land ... not just the neighbouring regions of Jericho and the Dead Sea. He sees all of it ... he sees beyond the mountain of Jerusalem all the way to the Meditteranean Sea ... he sees beyond the Jordan River all the way to the Sea of Galilee and the Golan Heights. He sees it all. Mount Nebo might be high but it is not that high. Moses' climbing has brought him part way but God has brought him the rest of the way so that Moses can see it all. Now Moses is not looking back now he is looking ahead. What does he see, I wonder? Well ... he sees land. Turf. A place. It seems so obvious but it is key. The people have been promised land a home. Their spirituality is rooted in the earthly realities of food and water, soil and shelter. They have been landless for a long time. For as long as they can remember. Now God has provided land. Is it any wonder that years later the child of yet another company of slaves challenges Pharoah once again and leads his people on a march through the wilderness of fear towards the promised land of freedom? Remember Martin Luther King's sermon on the night before his death. Oh, he didn't make one hundred and twenty ... but he knew what it was like to share the view from Mount Nebo. Remember how he put it: "God's allowed me to go up to the mountain and I've looked over and I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you but I want you to know tonight that we as a people will get to the promised land." Moses and Martin are gifted by God with a view that few of us can see. A view of the world we only dream about right there on the horizon. All that is required is for us to set out across the Jordan. And yet, Moses sees something else. Moses sees danger mingled with promise. He knows that in the wilderness it was easy to stay focussed on survival on one another on God. But the Promised Land will be another story. There it will be tempting to forget. To forget the law of love. To forget the journey from slavery. To forget God. The entire book of Deuteronomy warns of these dangers. Moses says it over and over: Do not forget the Lord your God, love the Lord your God, teach it to your children and say it in the marketplaces and when you sleep and when you wake. In a land of wealth you must remember not to forget. Especially not to forget the law of neighbour love ... and so he gives law after law which require the people to give special care to the widow, the orphan and the refugee. In other words, to anyone in their midst who is without land, without security, without a safety net. As Moses looks at the land he sees great promise and great danger. Then he dies. He dies ... and when all the weeping is over no one knows where he has been buried. It is a mystery. There is no eternal flame. No great tomb to visit. Just the memory and the mystery. Now, all these years later, we can vouch for Moses' keen sight. Here in this New World this Promised Land to which our ancestors crossed their own Atlantic sized Jordan we have tasted the milk and honey and know how sweet it is. But we have also shared the bitter taste that comes with wealth. We know the danger that Moses could only imagine. We have forgotten the law of love. We have begun to think that it is every man and woman and child to themselves. We have forgotten that with God religion is about the gift of land, of turf, of home. So we live with the original inhabitants of this Promised Land reduced to refugees, landless. And not them alone. So we pray for another Moses, for another Saviour to show us the way home. Sure enough, God hears our cry. We see him for who he is on another mountain ... this time in the Promised Land. It is Jesus the capenter's son as unlikely a Messiah as Moses the shepherd. Jesus whose mighty deeds and law of love bear the stamp of Moses. Jesus whose law of suffering love offends his own disciples at first but not Moses. Remember ... when Peter and James and John stare at Jesus in disbelief because he points the way to the Promised Land through a Cross of suffering ... he takes them up a mountain and they see him a very different light. No longer is there any question ... for they see him talking with the greatest prophets ... Elijah ... and Moses. Moses ... finally in the Promised Land talking with the Promised One about the way ahead. And, this time, sharing the view from the mountaintop with Peter and James and John and with me and with you. We can see the Promised Land ... it is right here ... for those with eyes to see the vision and ears to hear the pain and lips to speak with courage and feet to move with boldness and hands to heal with love.