Every high place

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.