Whenever I hear the word mountain, something inside me awakens. I feel excitement. I start wondering: Where is it? How high is it? Can we climb it?
In Scripture, mountains are never accidental settings. They are theological spaces. They are places where heaven and earth meet where God reveals Himself. Abraham climbed a mountain in trust. Moses climbed a mountain to receive the Law. Elijah encountered God not in the storm, but in the quiet whisper on a mountain. And today, Peter, James, and John climb a mountain with Jesus and everything changes.
I have loved mountains since I was a child. Climbing them is not easy. It requires endurance, patience, and commitment. But when you reach the summit, the perspective shifts. You see farther. You breathe differently. You realize how small certain worries really are. And in that silence, you can hear God more clearly.
Mountains change your vision.
That is what happened at the Transfiguration. The disciples thought they knew Jesus. They walked with Him every day. But on the mountain, they saw Him in glory. His face shone. His clothes became radiant. For a moment, heaven broke through.
And Peter says something very human:
“Lord, it is good that we are here.”
Of course it is. Who would not want to stay in that clarity? Who would not want to remain in that peace?
Here in Chicago, we do not have mountains. I miss them. But the Gospel reminds us that the true mountain is not just rock and elevation. The true mountain is any place where we encounter the living God.
This church is a mountain.
The altar is a mountain.
The sacraments are mountains.
Every time we celebrate the Eucharist, heaven touches earth. Every time someone is baptized, reconciled, anointed, or laid to rest in hope, we are standing on holy ground.
Yet notice something in the Gospel: only three disciples are named. Why only three? What about the others?
I sometimes ask myself the same question when I see empty pews. Why do some climbs while others remain below? Often the answer is simple: we are busy. We are tired. We postpone. “I’ll go later. I’ll return when life slows down.”
But climbing always costs something. It requires leaving comfort behind. It requires effort. No one reaches the summit by accident.
And yet, the climb is worth it.
Because on the mountain, we remember who Jesus truly is. And we remember who we are in Him.
Peter wanted to build tents and stay. But the Gospel tells us they had to come down. Why? Because the mountain experience is not an escape. It is preparation. We go up to see clearly and then we come down to live differently.
So today I ask you:
Do you want to go up the mountain?
Do you want to see more clearly?
Do you want to encounter the Lord in a way that changes you?
Do not be afraid of the climb. The Lord is already waiting at the summit. And when you arrive, you will be able to say with Peter:
“Lord, it is good that we are here.”
And then, strengthened by that encounter, we will come down transformed ready to follow Him wherever He leads.
Don’t postpone the climb. The mountain is waiting. And so is the Lord.
