The Glacier Cowboy

We passed each other high on Mt. Brown in Glacier National Park just after I left the snow, with me descending and him ascending. He had dark brown hair with eyes to match, and a very thin, perfectly manicured handlebar moustache, clearly held in place with moustache wax. His white cowboy hat was woven, and he wore a carefully pressed blue/yellow/white plaid long-sleeve cowboy shirt. It looked like fairly thin material to me. I didn’t think to look, but I bet it had pearly white buttons. His blue jeans were neat, and he wore brown leather Oxford dress shoes. It was the shoes that got me. No coat, no backpack, no bottles of water, no hiking poles, no umbrella, although he was carrying a small book or pad of some sort in his right hand. I greeted him; he smiled and nodded his head to acknowledge me as he walked by. I say that he walked by, but glided would be more accurate: he moved past me smoothly in his clean brown leather Oxford dress shoes.

It had been a brutal climb for me, and tough for Carla, too, even though she’s the better athlete. AllTrails says that it “is not a hike for the faint of heart” and “is only recommended for very experienced adventurers.” We certainly aren’t faint of heart, but we are equally not experienced adventurers. The maximum altitude of about 7,500 feet was affecting us. My phone app told me that we hiked 9.9 miles (total round trip) and ascended a total of 4,358 feet, and that I burned an estimated 5,175 Calories. We headed for the historic Mt. Brown Lookout tower, but we stopped a little short when the snow got so deep that it became apparent that we might hurt ourselves. It was slippery, too: I found a place where a mountain goat had slipped on the snow and slid before anchoring itself, leaving a clear hoof print behind. When the mountain goats are slipping, it’s time to turn around.

Speaking of mountain goats, it was on this hike that we met Greta, which was the name Carla gave to her. Greta took quite a liking to us. She followed me up the trail and then stopped when I did. When I started hiking, so did she. I let her pass me (she came within eight feet of me), and after passing Carla she started leading us up the trail. When we stopped, so did she. When we started, so did she. It was delightful.

A pressing need to go to the bathroom motivated Carla to descend faster than I did. While still fairly high on the mountain, I could see and hear a storm moving in, with the dark clouds moving over the Rockies toward me from the north. I encountered an optimistic young couple, both wearing shorts, no hiking gear, no backpacks, and they had no water. As I approached them he asked, “How far is it to the top?” “I’ve been descending an hour and twenty minutes,” I replied. “Oh,” he said, “that’s not so bad!” Ah, the optimism born of inexperience. She was clearly much less enamored with the climb than he, and she asked me, “Was it worth the climb?” “Absolutely, it’s beautiful up there, and there are mountain goats. But the storm is blowing in.” He cheerfully continued the climb, and she followed him. 10-15 minutes later I felt the first drop of rain.

I paused, took off my gear, got my green poncho out of my backpack, and got rigged back up. My concern was that I not get my camera or cell phone all wet and that I wouldn’t get cold from the rain. After all, it’s called Glacier National Park for a reason. I looked like the hunchback of Notre Dame with my backpack and hat on my back under my poncho. With the hood on my head, I lumbered down the mountain, leaning on my hiking poles as it rained at a moderate pace. About 10 minutes later I came around a corner and surprised a mountain goat. His eyes opened wide when he saw me in my weird garb, and he decided to clear out at a brisk pace.

My left knee began to ache, and my feet started to hurt. I only had about two more miles to go. I was wearing very good hiking shoes, and leaning on the poles saved my bacon, but I was in trouble. I just couldn’t move quickly anymore. I got down to the last 1.6 miles of trail where it flattened out, and I was going extremely slowly. I was shuffling along at an agonizingly slow pace: It’s safe to say that I was baby stepping.  Apparently my bug spray had worn off, because I was being swarmed by mosquitoes. I kept my poncho on with the hood wrapped around my head, and on one of many short breaks I saw a mosquito trying to drill through the plastic to get to me. He failed. I chuckled.

With about a mile to go, I again encountered the Glacier cowboy. He looked relaxed and wasn’t even sweating. He smoothly moved by me in his brown leather Oxford dress shoes. We didn’t speak, but as he passed me, he gave me a very careful look, as if he were evaluating my condition, and then he moved on.

I can’t help but think about what the Psalmist said:

“For He will give His angels charge concerning you,”

To guard you in all your ways.”

Psalm 91:11

I’m also reminded of Hebrews 13:2:

“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers,”

for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it.”

So, some people encounter angels without knowing it.

Carla saw him exit the trail, still crisply dressed, still not breaking a sweat, but still gliding along. He simply scuffed a little dirt off the bottom of his brown leather Oxford dress shoes as he crossed the road toward the parking lot, before walking out of her view. I never saw that young couple again, nor did we hear any bad news about them. Maybe he was their guardian angel, too.

 

Ruins and Easter

When you think of Petra, you most likely think about Al-Khazneh, which is the most famous part of the ancient city of Petra in southern Jordan. Al-Khazneh makes an appearance in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade as the temple containing the holy grail. I’m fascinated by the grand structures and artwork found at many archaeological sites. Major Roman ruins, which are scattered over many areas of Europe, the Middle East, and northern Africa, are particularly appealing to me. Ruins left from Greek, Etruscan, Egyptian, Inca, Mayan, and other civilizations demonstrate the amazing ability of humans to create intricate structures that are glorious because of their beauty and the engineering prowess they portray. Persepolis makes me want to visit Iran. Pergamon and others draw me to Turkey. There are so many that I can’t list them all. Recently I’ve been enjoying watching a series named Secrets of Archaeology, and I highly recommend it. Of course, some things can be seen in museums, like the Ishtar Gate of Babylon and the reconstructed Pergamon Altar, both of which can be seen at the Pergamon Museum in Berlin. The British Museum houses wonderful things like the Rosetta Stone, the Elgin Marbles (some of the original sculptures of the Parthenon), and artifacts from Egypt and Assyria. Carla and I were unusually blessed to have been able to visit the British Museum and see these things when we were unexpectedly able to take a trip to London and Scotland in 2016. It was amazing.

It saddens me when I see the destruction of archaeological sites. The remains are mere shadows, and I long to have seen them in their glory. I was deeply grieved when a terrorist organization destroyed significant parts of Palmyra in Syria. Digging deeper, however, shows that one of the things that they destroyed was the Temple of Bel. The title Bel was given to various pagan gods to signify that they were masters, or lords.

God has a very dim view of pagan gods. So much so, in fact, that He told His people Israel to destroy their temples and warned them against worshipping them. Here’s an example:

“You shall tear down their altars and”

smash their sacred pillars and”

burn their Asherim with fire, and you shall”

cut down the engraved images of their gods and”

obliterate their name from that place.”

Deuteronomy 12:3 (NASB)

Asherim refers to either a Phoenician goddess, images of that goddess, or a grove that was considered to be holy by those that set aside the place for worship of the goddess. In the NASB, there are places in Exodus, Deuteronomy, II Kings, II Chronicles, Hosea, and Micah that specifically identify pillars as things that should be destroyed or that were destroyed. The terrorists used explosives to partially destroy the Temple of Bel, and a resident of Palmyra reported, "It is total destruction. The bricks and columns are on the ground.'' What did God think of this? Clearly, from the verses referred to above, He was pleased that remnants of the worship of fakes fabricated by people to be deities were destroyed. Well now, if I want to think like God—and I do—then I’d better be careful about what in archaeological sites I let sadden me. There’s a bigger issue at stake than my personal comfort.

We’re much too sophisticated in our Christianity to be taken in by such pagan trickery, but don’t we fall prey to the more mundane sins? Things like envy, covetousness, jealousy, anger, impatience, lust, narcissism, theft, lying, and so forth are condemned throughout scripture. God tells us, just as He did the nation of Israel, to be different from those that do not know Him:

“As obedient children, do not be conformed to”

the former lusts which were yours in your ignorance,”

but like the Holy One who called you,”

be holy yourselves in all of your behavior;”

because it is written,”

‘YOU SHALL BE HOLY, FOR I AM HOLY.’”

I Peter 1:14-16 (NASB)

In my almost 64 years of life, I have proven to myself empirically that I cannot simply make up my mind to be holy and have it be so. God has proven to me that I cannot do that. The thing about holiness is that it is a pre-requisite to seeing God:

“Follow peace with all men, and holiness,”

without which no man shall see the Lord.”

Hebrews 12:14 (KJV)

We are left with one way, and only one way:

“Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, the truth, and the life,”

No one comes to the Father except through me.’”

John 14:6 (ESV)

He is risen! Hallelujah!

A Brief Lesson in Bubbles

Copious quantities of rain had fallen rapidly, creating a small mound of foam that slowly traveled down our back yard. Dutifully protecting his people from the dangerous threat, Max stood bravely outside in the rain, barking at the foam with all his might. It was an inspiring sight.

Max is still a puppy, albeit a big one at 63 pounds, and he has yet to experience many things. He didn’t understand the foam and reacted instinctively to what he perceived as a threat. Sometimes we are not so different.

Immediately after I was first diagnosed with cancer, I reacted in fear (see Facing the Unknown). I spent considerable time talking to the Lord about this, and He gave me peace.

 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own insight.”

In all thy ways acknowledge him, and He shall direct thy paths.”

Proverbs 3:5 (RSV), 6 (KJV)

Tonight I took a bath in our whirlpool tub. Guessing that Max might want to see what was going on, I left the door cracked open a little. As soon as the water started pouring, he rushed to the bathroom and examined the tub. He cocked his head back and forth, his ears up and his brow furrowed in a kind of cuteness that only dogs exhibit. He was interested by the growing pool of water and the faucet handles. He was startled when I turned the jets on, and he moved back a few feet. As I reassured him that everything was OK, he came a little closer, right until I put a couple drops of body wash in and the bubbles started forming. As the foam grew, he stood back. Max didn’t bark though, because I was in the midst and reassured him that everything was OK. I held some bubbles in my hand, he eyed them, and then approached warily. He touched them with his nose, and then licked them off. He backed off, but then came over and touched them again. He relaxed some, and toward the end of my bath I held some bubbles out to him and he licked them. Sometimes we are not so different.