Around a person there are thousands of mountains. Tall, beautiful, still unconquered. Some are hidden in clouds, others blaze with snowy summits. A person stands at the foot and looks up. Somewhere up there the sky meets the earth. And he longs to climb to a place he has never been. Jesus taught people to ascend. Not to mountains of stone and snow, but to heights of the spirit. The purer the heart, the higher a person can climb. And the more mountains he begins to see around him.
You cannot take everything you own up a high mountain. Every extra kilogram makes walking harder. A person leaves unnecessary things below. The higher the path, the lighter the load must be. But what is most necessary must be kept safe.
Tents stand on the slopes. People sleep in them, rest, gather strength. In the morning the tents are struck and they go on. So it is with our spiritual achievements. Today a person learns to forgive, tomorrow — to love. You cannot settle forever at one elevation, even if it is warm and cozy, even if it seems that nothing could be better.
Sometimes you must descend in order to climb even higher afterward. Climbers call this acclimatization. A person grows used to altitude gradually. The same is true of the soul. It cannot learn great love in a single day. Small acts of kindness prepare it for great ones. Small victories over fear ready it for great trials.
The higher the mountain, the harder it is to breathe. The air thins, strength fades faster. Spiritual heights are not easy either. There are so few of the familiar earthly things to which our soul clings. But it is precisely there that Jesus calls. There, where a person learns to live by faith, by love, and by unseen powers when his own strength is no longer enough.
From a height a vast panorama opens. Houses become dots, roads thin threads. What seemed great below is now almost invisible. So a person’s perspective changes. His own grievances shrink. Other people’s suffering becomes more visible. He begins to understand those he once judged. Yet the mountain does not make the world smaller — it makes the heart and mind larger.
The higher you climb, the deeper the chasms. One mistake can cost you your life. Spiritual heights also demand caution. A person counted as holy can destroy many with his pride. Therefore, the higher he rises, the less he should think of his own greatness. There is no throne on the summit. Only sky, wind, and a small person.
On the mountain people travel roped together. One holds the rope for another. Today you help a comrade; tomorrow he saves you. But it can happen that someone near you falls when there is very little distance left to the top. You can continue and be the first to reach the height. Or you can turn back and save your friend. Then the one who did not reach the summit will be higher than the one who did.
Love is the highest mountain. Jesus taught to love not only those who love us. To give even when no one thanks you. To support even when no one notices. To expect no reward for doing good. This is hard, especially for a person who has spent his life seeking love himself. But supreme love does not mean that we need no one. It means that we are able to give even when we ourselves are in need.
And then a person reaches the summit. Everest is the highest point on Earth above sea level. There is no earthly road higher than this. Here the earth seems to touch the sky. A person looks around and realizes that all his former greatness was trivial. He is so small before the infinite. Yet somehow the infinite no longer feels strange to him.
Who will meet him here? An angel? A great teacher? One of the heavenly beings? He does not know. Quietly he says to God, “Let me be met by the one my heart recognizes.” Not the most powerful, not the most famous. The one whose voice will sound like home. The one the heart recognizes before the mind understands.
Then the person begins to cry and laugh at once. He cries at the majesty of what he has seen and laughs with joy. He wants to embrace the whole world. He cannot explain what has happened to him; words fall short. He asks for nothing. What he has seen is enough.
But even from Everest you must descend. People remain below. Children, parents, loved ones await some. No one awaits others. There are people who have never known a home since childhood. They feel as if nothing calls them back. But one can return not only to those who love you. One can return for the sake of those who need your love.
Jesus descended from the mountain too. To the sick, the frightened, the lonely. To those who did not understand him, rejected him, betrayed him. He did not remain on the height where it was beautiful. He returned to where people were hurting. Perhaps that is the hardest part of the ascent — to come down from the summit and bring its light to others.
And when a person looks back, he will see that his mountain was only one among thousands. Behind it rise new peaks, even higher and more beautiful. And above them the endless sky. No earthly summit reaches its end. And the person smiles through his tears. He thought he had reached the end of the road. But it turned out that everything is only beginning.
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