Ascending the Mountain

“Now when He saw the crowds, He went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples
came to Him, and He began to teach them” (Matthew 5:1).

Here begins the Sermon on the Mount. If it will mean anything to you, first you must follow Him up the mountain. Like Him, you must leave the crowds behind. That part of you that belongs to the ordinary, the everyday conventional way of life, is a detriment to spiritual progress. “Holy things are for the holy!” You hear it proclaimed just before partaking of the sacred Communion of His flesh and blood. It means that you also must first separate yourself from the mundane and profane. You are invited to share a mountain-top experience—are you interested? Are you ready to leave the commonplace, flat routine for what will be exhilarating and overwhelming?

Some feel that God should come to them. “If there is a God,” they say, “let Him come to me and show Himself. Then I’ll believe.” And they’ll die waiting, if indeed they are interested in rising above their limits.

Ascending the mountain provides perspective. Like fish that never see water, when we are part of the crowd, we cannot have a true view of who we are, much less what God intends us to be. Climbing the spiritual mountain offers us self-transcendence. With each step upward we realize there is more to life than what society offers. When we shut out the noise of the mob and the clamor of everyday events, we discover an inner desire for something more—from life, from God, and from ourselves. The mountain challenges us to find out what that desire is about. And it confronts us with a fear of change. We tell ourselves that we want to discover the soul within us; but are we ready for what it will do to us? Do we truly want to make a new beginning and live at a deeper level of intensity? The ordinary offers us the security of what is comfortable, tested, fat and flabby, but sensible. Isn’t it better to do what “everyone” does, and repeat the platitudes of society? There’s a risk in climbing the mountain, especially when Jesus is at the top waiting. The first steps are the hardest. It’s so far when you look up. Did you make a mistake? Is the trip worth the effort? How will it change anything? If I’m already discouraged, what will I be like later on? And who am I to want what probably is impossible to achieve?

He “sat down.” Today the speaker stands and listeners sit. In ancient times it was the reverse. Jesus sat, because He was prepared to teach. He sat because He was at peace. He sat because He was patient. Even if nobody appeared, nevertheless He was still the Son of God on earth to bring any and all who wished it into the presence of divinity.

“His disciples came to Him.” Their original teacher, St. John the Baptist, had sent the first ones. The word “disciple” comes from a word meaning “learn.” One problem in a so-called Christian society is that many feel they know all there is to know about the God in Christ; or all they need to know. Those in the crowds know everything. They’re filled with their own opinions. The disciple, however, yearns to learn more about the ways of the Lord. That thirst for knowledge transcends even death. Heaven is where we apply all our knowledge and wisdom compiled on earth, to grow in spiritual awareness with the grace of the Holy Spirit.

Disciple has the sense of discipline. One cannot concentrate on a full stomach; therefore, he or she will eat moderately and fast when the Church prescribes that regulation. Discipline means self-control. One measures his words and actions. He moderates his life to fit the goal of union with God in Christ.