There’s something deeply moving about mountains. Now I’m not going to be selective or discriminating in this, I think all mountains have beauty, regardless whether they are rugged, rocky, treeless peaks or these lovely forested ridges we see everywhere in the Central Appalachian section of the United States. Mountains give us the feeling of security, a palpable assurance that we are protected. And scripture tells us (Old Testament, or “Hebrew Bible” in case you need to call it that) that “We will not fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea;” (Psalms 46: 2). The writer of that psalm tells us that even if that happens, “God will help her right early.” (“Her” referring to the city of God). Mountains can be obstacles as well. For centuries humankind has looked for ways to go around, over, under and through mountains. And not everyone shares my love for them. Yet mountains have shaped some of us and molded our character.

I grew up in view of a mountain that towered over our horizon. Atop this ridge was a couple of evergreens that resembled the ears on a cat, complete with holes underneath the branches appearing as eyes. It made me think the mountain was watching. I still think of mountains in anthropomorphic terms. I feel the mountains’ arms encircle those of us who live life in the hollows.

The most important impression mountains give is the feeling that there is an immovable presence of divinity guarding us, inviting us upwards, directing our thoughts to soar to new heights. We need that assurance today, a tangible reminder that we are not alone in this world but accompanied by the divine.

It’s my joy to share in this space my thoughts about God, humanity and the relationship between God and humanity. I hope you’ll find it helpful.