Going Up to Jerusalem

Psalm 121, Mark 10: 32-34

 

 

          My daughter Emily is a climber. She has spent most of the last decade in Africa, so that’s where most of her climbing has been. I know she has climbed Mt Kenya, the second tallest mountain in Africa after Mt. Kilimanjaro. Emily loves to climb. The view at the top is incredible, but that’s not the only reason she climbs. Emily is thirsty for challenge, for adventure and for the experience itself. The climb changes her, broadens her, makes her stretch.

          My family spent years trekking back and forth to the mountains of North Carolina. We spent many hours on rivers kayaking and white water rafting. When we weren’t on the river, we went hiking. I’m not the climber that my daughter is, but I do love the view that comes at the end of a climb. I remember particularly a place near the Tennessee-North Carolina line called Max Patch. A short climb rewards you with this spectacular view at 4,600 feet. On a clear day, you can see Mt. Mitchell to the east and the Great Smoky Mountains some twenty miles to the west.

          Jerusalem is the Max Patch of its region in Judea. It lies on the southern Judean plateau, which at its highest is about 2,500 feet above sea level. That’s high in that area. 37 miles to the east is the Mediterranean Sea and 22 miles west is the Dead Sea, the lowest point on earth. So Jerusalem is one of the high places of the region. That’s one of the reasons that the gospels have many references to “going up.” Jesus and the disciples were going up to Jerusalem.

          But there is more to this term of going up than just geography. Jerusalem was the Holy City. It was the site of the Temple. It was the destination for the people of Israel at least three times a year for the important feasts that commemorated great days in the history of God’s people, including Passover, Tabernacles and Pentecost. On these high holy days, the people would make their pilgrimage to Jerusalem. They would “go up” to the City of God. The gospels echo that theme. In today’s passage, Jesus and the disciples are on the road, going up to Jerusalem. Matthew 20 and Luke 19 say essentially the same thing.

          With Jesus, it is not just a going up from down below. It is a journey; a journey started long before that culminates in his arrival at his beloved Jerusalem, a city rich in meaning for Jesus but poor in loyalty to the Son of God. It is the place where he will meet the cross; a destination that will forever change the world. Going up. In the Greek, the word is αναβαίνώ (anabaino). Its Hebrew counterpart is transliterated as Aliyah. It means the going up, the ascent. Every time we read of Jesus going to Jerusalem, we see this word. Aliyah is literally the ascending. So to go to Jerusalem was to make Aliyah, or to make the upward journey. Even in modern times, when the Jewish people began to return to the land of Israel, that twentieth century exodus was called Aliyah, the upward journey.

          In the book of Psalms, a full fifteen psalms are devoted to ascent. Psalms 120-134 are a whole section of Psalms of Ascent. They are a group of psalms, ancient poetry and hymns, offering praise and worship to God. It is thought that they may have been sung by worshippers as they ascended the road to Jerusalem to take part in the three ancient festivals. Psalm 121 is exemplary:

                             I lift up my eyes to the hills

                             From where does my help come?

                             My help comes from the Lord,

                             Who made heaven and earth.

                                                                             (v. 1, 2)

These songs call us who would be pilgrims to trust God, to go up the mountains of life, knowing that God has our back, that God never sleeps and that no elements are sufficient to hurt us while in God’s care. We can make our ascent safely while God watches over us.

          We are all familiar with physical ascents, from mountain climbing to hiking to taking the stairs instead of the elevator. These ascents keep up our strength, give us stamina, and offer in some cases a whole new way of looking at things. But we are God’s people. Like John Bunyan’s Christian in his journey through The Pilgrim’s Progress, we too are not just physical, but spiritual children making our way, going up to Jerusalem. In our case, Jerusalem is not so much a geographic location as it is the City of God promised by John in the book of Revelation. It is a spiritual ascent that each Christian must make. Ultimately, when our journey is finished, it is our place of deliverance.

          What are the watchwords of our society? Whatever. If it feels good, do it. Eat, Pray, Love. Peace. Just Do It. Have it Your Way. I’m worth it. Where in this list, which could be much longer, does one find an unselfish meaning? The watchwords of our society have little in common with making an ascent. They have more in common with self-pleasure. They are the avenues of personal reward, the byways of selfishness.

          Our heroes today tend to be packaged in sports uniforms. That’s not as bad as it sounds. This last week, I watched as two baseball teams battled for seven games in the World Series to see who could prevail. It wasn’t hard to notice that both teams played like it. That is, they played like teams. They were unselfish. They pulled for each other’s success. Teams who win championships know a lot about making Aliyah, that upward journey. In that sense, the striving of sports franchises is a microcosm of what Christians need to do in their walk toward Jerusalem. It’s never about personal gain. It’s always about growth and discernment of those truths that will change our lives.

          What am I talking about here? I haven’t been to Jerusalem and most of you haven’t either. Do we have to go to Jerusalem to be pilgrims? Not literally. But symbolically, every one of us has Jerusalem in front of us.  Every one of us has a climb to make, an ascent to conquer. Every one of us has to make Aliyah, to go up toward the high places of life. If we choose to descend into that which we want, that which the voices of this world shout out to just do it or to have it our way, then we go the way of the lost. If we choose to stay home, to stay on that level playing field, we will find out sooner or later that the ground is not really level at all. Nothing stays the same, not things, not people, not relationships. If you’re not climbing, eventually you will find that you are descending.

          The world is not a kind place. There are kind people in the world, but they cannot direct us. They are on their own journeys. They too are faced with these choices of self—or selfless. They need our help as much as we need theirs. To reach out to help one another is in a very real sense a going up, of making that upward journey of faith.

          The thing to understand is this. It’s not about the choice you make, for life is full of choices. Each choice influences the next. Each bend in the road leads you either closer to God or farther away from him. Each climb has places to rest and go on, or to turn around and go back.

          In our passage today, Jesus turns to his faithful and tells them what is going to happen. They are going up to Jerusalem and he tells them what to expect. What he tells them is enough to make anyone turn around and run. What he promises them is betrayal, condemnation, mocking, flogging, degradation and death. It’s hard to hear anything after that. But there is one more thing—after three days he will rise. What’s that? After three days, he will defeat death, dethrone Satan, rise from the grave!

          Is this what going up to Jerusalem is all about? Is this the life of a Christian? Mocking, jeering, contempt, even danger and death? According to Jesus, that’s correct. All that and more.

        But there is that view. When you are on the mountaintop and walking across that long ridge, your view is out of this world and the air is so clean, it feels as if it’s washing your lungs. The way up is sometimes long and sometimes treacherous. The footing can be tricky. There are choices along the way. Go left, go right. Quit and go back. Or—take another step. A journey of a thousand miles begins the same way a trip to the mailbox begins—with a single step.

          If we are to be Christian, we all have to make Aliyah, the upward journey. It is hard and sometimes dangerous and always—always, long. But it is not without its rewards, like the cleanness we begin to experience on the way up, or the strength we begin to feel as we put more and more faith in our Savior along this pilgrimage we call life.

          We need to remember in the midst of all the calls to the easier life, of all the warnings of the danger and challenges ahead, that for those who choose the higher step, the higher ground, there is the promise that we too shall rise. There is no set of circumstances from which the pilgrims of God will not taste victory. It is our act of Sanctification, to climb the mountain that takes us to faith and obedience. Going up, making Aliyah, is the only choice that brings life.