Mount Olympus

I climbed Mount Olympus the other day, going up the back trail. It was a nice path, well maintained, and very pleasant as it started out. But as the scrub oak gave way to pine, and the dirt floor of the trail became tumbled rocks, the way became very steep. I had to stop several times just to let my heart beat slow down. The effort required became so intense that I had no energy to stop and enjoy the view. I found that it was best to concentrate entirely on simply putting one foot in front of the other. If I ever looked up to measure how far I had to go I would become discouraged and doubt my strength to get to the top.

The way up the mountain had me thinking about temples and trying to understand God's purposes. I pondered on the parallelism between the temple ceremony and the act of climbing a mountain. The need for sacrifice, effort, devotion to task, and purity of purpose are clear in both pursuits. At the end of the temple ceremony one enters into God's presence. I hoped for some clarity at the top of the mountain.

When I got to the summit of Mount Olympus I was all alone. I was very tired and and stretched out on a flat rock to provide some relief to my trembling legs. I pulled out a sandwich, said a little prayer, thanked God for being safe and able to arrive at the top, and asked Him to keep me protected and able to do His will.

It was a stormy day, there had been some wind and some very light raindrops, and the clouds above me were boiling and racing across the sky. It was about two in the afternoon. As I lay, face up to the sky, the layers of clouds moved into alignment in such a way that there was a tunnel, a column, that was over my head and pointed straight up, in a direct line to the sun. As the tunnel formed, probably over the course of a minute, the sun struck the sides of it in a way that caused the Southeast side of the column to turn a very mild red while the Northwest side of the tunnel turned green. It was so remarkable, so unusual, that I scarecly dared breathe for fear of the apparition disappearing. It probably lasted for thirty seconds, just this incredible, overwhelming instant of beauty hanging there in the sky, and then the tunnel filled in, the sun was blocked, and the moment was gone.

Other climbers soon joined me at the top and I could hear their tired and exultant banter. But I was removed from them, my thoughts were elsewhere. I was remembering the temple. And, with a little bit of rain stinging my eyes, I was grateful.