Today, Pastor Marco talked about a bunch of things — if you want to know about all of it, pop over for a cuppa and I’ll read you from my notes.
I have a notebook; it has teeny blocks like graph paper and I use a triangular mechanical pencil. Fabulous. But I digress, which you are most used to, aren’t you?
The cruxt of the matter was that Pastor Marco got down on this whole ‘move the mountain’ thing. He talked about Abram’s dad, who moved the family toward Canaan but stopped in Harran (Genesis 11:31). Canaan is identified as the land flowing with milk and honey; Pastor described it as a fruitful, productive place. Harran, on the other hand, is translated as ‘mountain’. So, as the story goes, Abram’s dad got stuck in Harran and didn’t make it to Canaan, but God called Abram to leave that place and move on. He got into how we run up on mountains in our lives and get stuck there, where we become unproductive and unfruitful. If we don’t move, we never get to the place of fruitfulness and productivity that God wants us to have. We often fuss about moving because God gives us the direction, step by step, instruction by instruction, rather than all at once. We don’t know where we’re going or what will be there when we arrive. Wherever there is.
I had a quick flashback to when I had my argument with God about going back to school for my terminal degree. I hated school and saw no immediate good reason to even consider going back to such a horrid state of being. Yet, I realized that God wasn’t going to give me a pass on this one and I acquiesced. Begrudgingly. Again, stop over for a cuppa and I’ll tell you all the details, but what had happened was, my world changed and it was for the good: had I not done what God was nudging me to do, things would have gone south in blazing glory. Crash, burn, end scene.
It was Pastor Marco’s description of the mountain that gave me an epiphany because I have struggled with the Mark 11:23 verse about telling the mountain to jump in the sea. That verse and its mate in Matthew have haunted me for a long time. I live in a big ol’ valley near the foothills of some impressive mountains in my estimation. It takes (on a good day) about an hour and a half to drive to the beach: the idea that I could look at any of the mountains that surround me, even the teeny ones, and say, ‘Ay — yo! Get up from there and jump in the ocean’ wasn’t really working.
But to look at a literal yet figurative meaning that the mountainous obstacles in my life can be told to move? Yeah, I can get with that.
Not saying that Jesus didn’t mean the mountain behind my house, but a girl’s gotta start somewhere, doesn’t she?
I think I’ll start with the life obstacles and work my way up from there …
Thanks, Pastor Marco …