Holy Ground
In the book of Genesis the Patriarch Jacob is on the run for his life. He is a double-crosser who has deceived his father and his brother, and Jacob believes his brother is looking to take revenge. While on the run, Jacob finds himself high on a mountain ridge. He’s there alone, and while he sleeps he gets a vision from God. In the vision God makes promises to him, promises to never leave him, promises to bless him. When Jacob wakes he anoints the stone he was using as a pillow with oil, for it is not holy to Jacob. As he anoints the stone he proclaims, “God is here and I didn’t even know it.” He names the place Bethel, which means “The House of God.”
We probably all have our “Bethels.” Those places where God has come to us, spoken to us, and we forever look at them as holy. “Thin places” is the phrase that some use to describe them, the place where the veil that separates heaven from earth is so thin that you know God is with you.
For me, that place is Montreat, NC. Tucked into the mountains of western North Carolina, Montreat (short for mountain retreat) was settled at the end of the 19th century by Presbyterian missionaries. Many retired pastors and retired seminary professors make their home there, and it was home to Billy and Ruth Graham for most of their adult lives. It is a beautiful place, a peaceful place, and time and time again I have met God there.
My family normally has gone for a conference at the end of June, but because of the pandemic we have not attended for the past two years. So we decided to take a short “retreat” there over the Labor Day weekend. Anna met us there, and we have a great time together. We hiked, ate good meals together, played cards, did a little shopping, and even drove up to Hot Springs (NC) one evening for a soak in the geothermally heated mineral water that flows up from the ground alongside the Appalachian Trail.
It was simple, but it was certainly holy ground. In Colossians Paul tells those Christians to “abound in thanksgiving.” As I returned to the church building today, I am thankful for many things. Thankful for my calling to serve as a pastor, especially in Powhatan at May Memorial. But I am also thankful for holy places, thin places, where we are reminded of God’s presence.