Parousia…What Mountain?

I say to you, if you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, “Move from here to there,” and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.
– Jesus, Matthew 17:20

Truly I say to you, if you have faith and do not doubt, you will not only do what was done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and cast into the sea,’ it will happen.
– Jesus, Matthew 21:21

You may have seen the television commercial for the Toyota Rav4. An SUV travels through the countryside, into an urban environment, and returns to the great outdoors. In the background, the Scottish songwriter Donovan sings his 1967 hit, “First there is a mountain then there is no mountain. First there is a mountain, then there is no mountain, then there is.”

I think about this song as I gaze out my window and see the front range of the Rocky Mountains staring back at me. The ancient ridges and crags ascend 14,115 feet to the summit of what the Ute tribe called Sun Mountain and what is popularly known as Pikes Peak. The span and scale of the mountains overwhelms my senses. No one can absorb it all with a single glance. It’s simply too massive. Too overpowering. Contemplating it swells my heart and subsumes me under a wave of sheer awe.

So when I hear Jesus telling his listeners to remove mountains by merely talking to them, I implicitly understand that he’s speaking figuratively and spiritually. He’s not instructing people how to transport geological formations. Jesus has something more significant in mind. The Nazarene encourages his followers to cultivate the smallest kernel of faith so that it will bring about monumental results.

Today faith has become a cliché and a byword suggesting something akin to stupidity. Being a person of faith has come to connote an individual who holds to his opinions regardless of the evidence. Somehow, I don’t believe this is what Jesus had in mind.

Jesus’ teaching springs up as an outgrowth of his message concerning the imminent fulfillment of God’s promises on his generation. “The kingdom of God is at hand.” What does that have to do with mountain-moving faith? Jesus called people along the Galilean hillside to believe the gospel — the kingdom announcement. He invited them as the firstfruits of Israel to participate with him in the messianic work of transformation. Through their faith in God’s word, they would move the largest mountain they could imagine — Sinai. In its place, Mount Zion would materialize.

In his famous allegory of Hagar and Sarah, the apostle Paul understood Sinai to signify Israel — and hence humanity — under the burden of law. With the arrival of the New Jerusalem, Israel and humanity would be delivered into ultimate liberty. For Paul, these “things are symbolic. For these are the two covenants: the one from Mount Sinai which gives birth to bondage, which is Hagar — for this Hagar is Mount Sinai in Arabia, and corresponds to Jerusalem which now is, and is in bondage with her children — but the Jerusalem above is free, which is the mother of us all” (Galatians 4:23-26).

The New Testament book of Hebrews contrasts the two mountains. “You have not come to a mountain that can be touched, a blazing fire, and darkness, and gloom, and a tempest, and the sound of a trumpet, and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that not another word be spoken to them. . . But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel” (Hebrews 12:18-24).

First there is a mountain. Then there is no mountain. Then there is.

Zion, the mountain of the Lord’s house as envisioned by Isaiah, has been established as the highest of mountains. The mountain has filled the whole earth, as Daniel foresaw. It is a mountain that cannot be shaken, a mountain that will not be moved, a mountain upon which God has destroyed the shroud that enfolds all people (Isaiah 25:7). So what does that mean for us?

Donovan’s song might give us a clue. The lyrics emerged from the observations of a Chinese teacher who lived more than a thousand years ago. Qingyuan Weixin reflected on his life’s journey, “I thought that mountains were mountains and waters were waters. Later when I studied personally with my master, I entered realization and understood that mountains are not mountains, waters are not waters. Now that I abide in the way of no-seeking, I see as before that mountains are just mountains, waters are just waters (The Art of Pilgrimage by Phil Cousineau).

Looking at your life with the eye of the flesh or the eye of the mind, you may see unscalable mountains. How can anyone get over chronic pain, depression, loneliness, alienation, or fear? Surveying our world with the same vision, we might see ourselves standing at the foot of a towering mountain. War, poverty, terrorism, and pollution threaten our very existence. We believe these mountains are impossible to climb. The air is too thin, the slope too severe, the perils too dangerous.

Whether it is for us personally or for society generally, our constant desire-for-more places mountains before us. “I want this but can’t have it because a mountain stands in my may.” In our cravings we’ve become blind to our greatest possession — a gift than cannot be surpassed. “He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered him over for us all, how will He not also with him freely give us all things?” (Romans 8:32)

When we look higher with the eye of the spirit and see Mount Zion, the deceptive mountains dissolve because we become empowered to hike one step at a time. Rather than seeing ourselves as people struggling to reach a summit, we’re walking with God at this point in this moment. “What are you, O mighty mountain?” (Zechariah 4:7). This awareness helps us appreciate God’s divine immanence thereby allowing us to approach and accept every mountain in its own right. Zion is Zion, therefore the mountain that is not a mountain is just a mountain.

First there is a mountain. Then there is no mountain. Then there is.

Because God is all-in-all, even the mountains have their place. They have become integrated into the vast cosmic network of being. Don’t try to go around the mountains. That only makes your expedition longer and more arduous. Climb the mountains by not climbing them. Just walk knowing that God is walking with you. When you do, you will discover an elevated perspective of life, yourself, and God.
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Originally published on August 25, 2008. (c) Presence International. Parousia is a free Transmillennial publication of Presence. To receive Parousia in your inbox each week click here.