REMOVE THE HIGH PLACES
Right through the old testament we read a
recurrent theme of how the Lord led his people when they returned to Him. The
Israelites were prone to wander and stray, led by the duplicity and pride of
their hearts into rebellion, which was sometimes sheathed by ritual, at other
times blatant and candid. Israel’s line of kings and leaders led an ongoing
recurrent battle against “high places” established and frequented by the
people, and which were often described as the reasons for their rebellion.
Every king or leader that initiated a wave of reform and return to God and
peace in the land always is recorded as having destroyed these “high places”.
In travelling through the region of Lahaul,
Spiti and Ladakh, one cannot but be reminded of this imagery. Every high pass
has a procession of prayer flags waving wildly in the wind. Coloured tokens of
prayers offered to a pantheon of Gods mark every high pass and mountain top.
Sometimes, looking at the inaccessibility of these strongholds, one wonders by
what feat of athleticism they were strung up there in the first place.
In traversing the territory of our own
individual heartscapes, we need to be also aware of our own “high places”.
Altars we have raised at many milestones in our lives to our own idols, proud
flags waving wildly in the face of
Lordship to our living Lord and Master. These our personal high places.
Citadels that vary from fabric to fortresses erected to our own Gods of pride,
vanity, selfishness and greed.
How do we go about destroying these high
places in our lives? The Old testament recurrently records the kings who
smashed these altars had one common characteristic. A wholehearted devotion to
Yahveh, the One true Lord.
Is our heart whole? Is our devotion
complete? We have to be wholehearted by conscious volition, not by progressive
yearning. And when we assume this armour, we find a humility before which our
pagan altars crumble without resistance or rancour. Ours is not a violent
extermination or a catastrophic pogrom, but a return to
wholeheartedness, before which every “high place” finds no alternative but to
crumble into dust. Every mountain, then, is made low, and we can find a liberty
than helps us kneel.
What are my high places? How do I recognize
them? How do I search for them? What will indicate that I have such a high
citadel of rebellion hidden in the mountains
recesses of my soul?
Our negative emotions can be the trail that
leads us to them. Anger, disappointment, hurt, stubborn resistance, depression,
sorrow, frustration are the spoor of the beast that has ravaged our landscape.
Do we follow these trails to its mountain lair? How do we handle negative
emotions? They often ravage our friendships and scorch our fruitfulness like
marauding Bedouin bands. What do we do when they have gone and only the fumes
of their passage remain? Do we follow them to their secret lairs and lay siege
to their supply lines? Or are we helpless victims to their next assault?
Our livescapes can only consistently bear
fruit when their mountain hideouts are cleansed and rendered in hospitable for
their residence. Every assault marks a high place in our hearts. Sometimes
uncrecognised. Sometimes well mapped and recorded in our minds.
We are not called to possess great skill
and cunning. We are not called upon to wage war on our own strength. Every
attempt at self sustained savagery against these marauders will fail in
futility. This is the predicament of all mankind.
We are called to gather under Jehovah
Nisse. We are called to Lordship. His Lordship. Our battle consists of
repentance and rest. We are called to be still and know. Our vison of battle
dust and blood through steel shod visors is an awakening vision of the
bankruptcy of our own souls. Do we bow? Can I surrender? Can I stand in the
knowledge of His Lordship? Have I allowed His banner to encompass my
mountains? Can I say with all my
heart “Jesus is Lord?” The huzzah is
then heard, and every high place will fall, like the wall of Jericho, without a
single stone shot from a sling, or the need for a sword to be unsheathed.
