On Reflection
From the manse window
WE’D been in Chamonix before, on a family holiday, and it had been cloudy that day, too. The rocky outcrop of the Aiguille du Midi, the highest cable car station on Mont Blanc, had been shrouded from view.
That day we told the kids we’d take them for pizza and drive under the mountain through the 11.6 km tunnel into Italy!
Our kids are adults now and had thoughtfully clubbed together to buy their mum and dad the plane tickets to have another crack at the summit.
So there we were, eager to ascend, but again the mountain tops were hidden in cloud. All we could see were trees disappearing into the grey.
Ever resourceful, my wife studied the map and persuaded her reluctant driver (guess who?) to drive our rented SUV in the other direction, up the valley past Vallorcine and through the winding pass into Switzerland.
Last time Italy for pizza, this time Montreux for coffee, enjoying light jazz on a sunny terrace looking over Lake Geneva!
For us, unused to Alpine weather and roads, it was an epic journey. We had 25 cm of powdery snow in Chamonix that morning but it had stopped around lunchtime.
The steam was rising like mist from the road as the temperature rose. Our ears popped as we gained altitude, but we got our first glimpse of blue sky! As the clouds lifted we began to witness the most majestic mountain scenery in all directions.
In Montreux we visited mediaeval Chillon Castle, which these days rests beneath an elevated concrete motorway. We also visited the former studio where Queen recorded their last album, “Made In Heaven”. The statue of lead singer Freddie Mercury is a little distance away on the lake shore.
That evening we made it back to Chamonix, where next day we finally, in unbroken sunshine, got to have breakfast “on top of the world”!
Crowds of brightly dressed skiers had squeezed into the cable car to make the most of the last days of the season. Never having learned to ski, we watched enviously as they curved down the slopes.
For a bible enthusiast like me, the most obvious scripture that came to mind was Psalm 121: “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help. My help cometh even from the Lord, who hath made heaven and earth.”
The writer of the psalm was a pilgrim, travelling up through the mountains of Judea to Jerusalem to worship God at the Temple. On the way he would have seen “high places”, shrines to other gods. Some believed these local deities lived near the peaks.
I was thinking of how so often our admiration and worship stop short. We naturally marvel at the skill of the road-builders, and make icons of popular athletes and singers, but fail to acknowledge the Maker who formed the mountains, the universe, the world and its ecosystem.
We idolise the gifts and the gifted, but neglect to worship the Giver who made us skilled and creative in his image.
I always admire human skill and ingenuity in whatever form, but like the psalm-writer, I will look higher than the hills to our Creator and Protector.
Worship is reserved for him!