[We] Have Been to the Mountaintop ...

For what it's worth, our house is just to the right of where Ezekiel's watch would be (on his left hand) - of those three houses, ours is the bottom one.

I've Been to the Mountaintop is, of course, the popular name of the last speech delivered by Martin Luther King, Jr., April 3, 1968. The next day, King was assassinated. 
http://www.americanrhetoric.com/speeches/mlkivebeentothemountaintop.htm

In light of the Memphis Sanitation Strike, King calls for unity, economic actions, boycotts, and nonviolent protest, and challenges the country to live up to its ideals. At the end of the speech, he talks about the possibility of an untimely death.  And he speaks about the Mountaintop.

 

We took a stroll up the hill (mountaintop) behind our friends’ place recently and enjoyed a feast for the eyes.  It was inspiring.  We were accompanied by Ezekiel Sudu and his son Victor, Martin Koroma and Zach Adams.  Under the 4 PM African Sun, we found ourselves sweat-covered and dust-saturated in no time.  But, it was a mountaintop experience that was well worth the pilgrimage.  And mountaintop experiences often lend inspiration when it is difficult to gain perspective from life in the valley below.

 

Sometimes people ask (sometimes those people are my children, sometimes they are Ella or me), “What are you doing here?”  There are lots of reasons.  Some of them are good; some selfish.  On good days I like to think we would say, “Because we somehow think it is the right thing to do with what God has entrusted to us.”  I think we (Ella and I) feel close to these words from King’s speech. (Without seeming overly pious or lofty; rather these words are convicting.):

And you know what's beautiful to me is to see all of these ministers of the Gospel. It's a marvelous picture. Who is it that is supposed to articulate the longings and aspirations of the people more than the preacher? Somehow the preacher must have a kind of fire shut up in his bones. And whenever injustice is around he tell it. Somehow the preacher must be an Amos, and saith, "When God speaks who can but prophesy?" Again with Amos, "Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream." Somehow the preacher must say with Jesus, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me," and he's anointed me to deal with the problems of the poor."

 

We know that we have not gotten – and will not get - this right all the time.  But we also have a sense of persuasion from another part of the speech, where King talks about The Good Samaritan:

And so the first question that the priest asked -- the first question that the Levite asked was, "If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?" But then the Good Samaritan came by. And he reversed the question: "If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?"

That's the question before you tonight. Not, "If I stop to help the sanitation workers, what will happen to my job. Not, "If I stop to help the sanitation workers what will happen to all of the hours that I usually spend in my office every day and every week as a pastor?" The question is not, "If I stop to help this man in need, what will happen to me?" The question is, "If I do not stop to help the sanitation workers, what will happen to them?" That's the question.

Throughout the speech, there is a wonderful prophetic analogy.  Moses, leader of the Israelites, is followed by the people because of (among other things) the prospect of life in the Promised Land. Before they reach it however, Moses is informed by God that he will not allow him to enter into the land and that he will only see it with his eyes.

"Then Moses climbed Mount Nebo... There the Lord showed him the whole land... Then the Lord said to him, "This is the land I promised on oath to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob... I will let you see it with your eyes, but you will not cross over into it."

—Deuteronomy 34:1-4

King, the gifted preacher and orator, delivers such a stirring Kingdom vision here in his conclusion (and elsewhere), which is all-the-more potent given his assassination the following day.  I would make no comparisons to the cost that King incurred to our own; not in a million years.  But I do think that Dietrich Bonhoeffer is right, there is a cost to discipleship.  King:

Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn't matter with me now, because I've been to the mountaintop.

And I don't mind.

Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He'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!

And so I'm happy, tonight.

I'm not worried about anything.

I'm not fearing any man!

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!!

"I lift up my eyes to the hills - where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth."
Psalm 121

Mountaintop experiences can give us "mine-eyes-haves-seen-the-glory-of-the-coming-of-the-Lord" perspective and vision.  I think this happens when we meet God - in public worship, through close communion with others or in creation (literally ON a mountaintop). In one of C.S. Lewis' Narnia books, The Silver Chair, Aslan says this:

• I give you a warning. Here on the mountain I have spoken to you clearly: I will not often do so down in Narnia. Here on the mountain, the air is clear and your mind is clear; as you drop down into Narnia, the air will thicken. Take great care that it does not confuse your mind. And the signs which you have learned here will not look at all as you expect them to look, when you meet them there. That is why it is so important to know them by heart and pay no attention to appearances.

[That's the end of the sermon.  But here are some more picture-words from the trek.]

Rev. Ezekiel Sudu and Victor Sudu

More 'life' on the moonscape:  The fires on the hills opposite our house (in the pictures you might have seen from a couple weeks ago) took place here.

Emerging flowers amidst the scorched earth.





 



Pineapple!





Naomi, living on the edge.

Martin Koroma and Zach Adams enjoying the view.