The Mountain Is Not the Destination

In Exodus 24:12–18, Moses ascends Mount Sinai. The cloud of God’s glory covers the mountain, and the fire of the Lord shines at its summit. For six days the cloud rests there, and on the seventh day God calls to Moses from the midst of it. Moses enters the cloud and remains on the mountain in the presence of God.

In Matthew 17:1–9, Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up a high mountain. There he is transfigured before them. His face shines like the sun. His clothes become dazzling white. Moses and Elijah appear. A bright cloud overshadows them, and a voice from heaven declares, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him.” The disciples fall to the ground in awe and fear.

Mountains are places of revelation. They are thin places where heaven and earth seem to touch.

As Christians, we know something about mountain top experiences. We have felt them at church camp, on youth retreats, at Emmaus walks, in powerful worship services, during mission trips, or even in quiet moments of prayer when God felt undeniably close. In those moments, the glory of God seems almost visible. Our hearts burn within us. Our faith feels alive and clear.

But the mountain is never meant to be permanent residence.

Peter wanted to build three dwellings and stay there. He wanted to hold on to the moment. Who would not? When you glimpse the glory of Christ, when you sense the holy nearness of God, you want it to last.

Yet Jesus leads them back down the mountain.

Moses did not stay forever in the cloud. He came down with the law in his hands and the reflection of God’s glory on his face. The disciples did not remain in the bright cloud. They walked back into the valley where suffering, confusion, and need awaited them.

God meets us on the mountain not simply to dazzle us, but to change us.

If we leave camp the same as when we arrived, if we leave worship unmoved, if we walk away from retreat inspired but untransformed, then we have missed the point. The purpose of encountering the glory of God is not spiritual entertainment. It is transformation.

Mountain top moments are gifts. But they are not trophies to collect. They are commissions.

If we only seek the mountain to feel something, to chase an emotional high, to experience the glory of God for ourselves, then our faith subtly becomes self centered. We begin to crave the feeling more than the mission. We measure our spirituality by intensity instead of obedience.

But when we allow God’s glory to change us, everything shifts.

We come down the mountain more patient.
More courageous.
More forgiving.
More willing to serve.
More attentive to the voice that says, “Listen to him.”

The true evidence of a mountain top experience is not how brightly we felt God shining there. It is how faithfully we reflect that light in the valley.

The world does not need more people chasing spiritual highs. It needs people who have seen the glory of Christ and now carry his compassion into ordinary places. It needs believers who have been in the cloud and now walk into conflict with peace, into injustice with courage, into suffering with hope.

When Moses descended, his face shone. When the disciples descended, they followed Jesus more deeply into his mission, even toward the cross.

We go up the mountain to see.
We come down the mountain to serve.

So seek the mountain. Go to camp. Attend the retreat. Enter worship expectantly. Climb in prayer. God still meets people there.

But do not stop there.

Let the glory you glimpse reshape your heart. Let the voice you hear redirect your steps. Let the Christ you see send you back into the valley changed so that others might experience his light through you.

Because the point of the mountain is not just to behold the glory of God.

It is to become people who carry it.

In God’s grip,

Pastor Chuck Church