“But when Simon Peter saw it (the miraculous catch of fish), he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, ‘Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.”

Luke 5:8

Yesterday I drove through part of the Great Smoky Mountains. Two of my girls have been with family for the last couple of weeks and it was time to get them home. I took the long way that led through part of the mountains, because of Atlanta traffic. The long way around was actually the shorter way yesterday afternoon.

For the last hour of the trip I was in a string of cars driving through the switchback roads of Newfound Gap Road. This was no interstate. It left high speeds in the rear view mirror and replaced it with majestic views. There were pull offs and outlooks to pause and take in the beauty. There was a valley river filled with families enjoying a leisure Sunday afternoon. The views along the mountain road were amazing—but I couldn’t admire them too much. Have you driven a mountain road and struggled with the necessary discipline to keep your eyes on the road instead of God’s beauty? This was me.

The beauty of the Smokies are awe inspiring on their own. And it also took me to one of my favorite family memories. I found myself replaying our 2017 trip to Glacier National Park in Montana. Going-to-the-Sun road is widely considered the most beautiful road in America. The mountain peaks and the glacier vistas are a reflection of divine beauty and design.

As I drove through the mountains yesterday and reflected on my time in the mountains from years prior—I was reminded how special these geographic giants are to me. Looking at the beauty, how could I do anything but give praise to God for all that He has done.

Where, in nature, do you marvel at the beauty and presence of God in creation?

In scripture, over and over again, mountains are a place where people encounter God. The 7 hills of Jerusalem are testimony to God’s presence. Mount Sinai is the place where Moses and all of Israel communed and received from God. It was on a mountain where Jesus was transfigured. The mount of olives is pivotal in the final hours of Jesus life. It was on a mountain that the disciples received the Great Commission.

Did you know that the garden of Eden was on a mountain? Genesis 2:10-14 describes the rivers of Eden flowing out into 4 different rivers. This only makes sense if it is atop a mountain.

Mountains have always been a place where people encounter the Lord. It is a place where each of us is invited to draw near to the Almighty. And it is a reason we talk about strong spiritual moments in our lives as mountain top experiences. I hope you have had a few of those in your life—mountain top experiences with the God who loves you.

All of this is true.

And, in the same breath, the mountain is never where the people of God stay. Moses came down from Mount Sinai. Jesus and the disciples came down from the mount of Transfiguration. The disciples were caught looking up to heaven as Jesus ascended before the Angel inviting them to return to the city and wait for the Holy Spirit. No matter how hard we try, the invitation from Jesus is never to stay on the mountain.

And yet, we do. How often do wet try to stay? How often to we venture to the mountain thinking that is the primary place where the Lord dwells.

I regularly hear people say how they don’t need to go to church because they encounter God in nature. They see Him in the mountains. They find peace while sitting by the sea shore. To many, God’s presence is most uniquely felt while in the beauty of creation.

I understand this sentiment. I tasted a little of it on my drive yesterday. And I want to push back against it as well. I certainly feel close to God when I stop at the scenic look outs and take in the mountain views. It draws my heart toward the Lord. The beauty provides the notes to the psalms of praise of my heart. I’m blown away by our creator.

But, here is the other truth of scripture. Most of the time when people encounter the Lord in a real way—their response isn’t one of peace and serenity. Scripture describes the encounters of people with the God of all creation very differently than a pious proximity—“I feel close to God.“

When the people of the Bible draw close to God they, by and large, have responses like Simon Peter. “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.” Simon Peter felt the furthest thing from peace when he was confronted with the 2nd person of the Trinity. He was humbled. Isaiah experienced the same thing in Isaiah 6. Moses was struck by fear and hid his face at the burning bush.

As fallen humans, encountering God in a real way brings discomfort. This is the fear of the Lord that scripture talks about so often. The fear of the Lord is akin to standing along the edge of a cliff with no railing or safety harness. It makes you keenly aware of how insignificantly small you truly are as you peer over the edge. It is humbling.

Humbling like Simon Peter’s response.

Too often we exchange the discomfort of true encounters with our God with the peace filled majesty of His creation. They are not the same.

This is why worship is so vital to our life of faith. Not that our worship experiences need to elicit som emotional response like Simon’s. No, worship is important because it invites us into the Word. And the Word often has an edge to it that is uncomfortable and sharp. The offering plates are a way that the Lord confronts us about how we budget and how we spend money. The songs or style of worship that doesn’t resonate are a way to remind us that worship isn’t about hymn—it’s about Him.

Our sin has an uncanny ability to allow us to turn everything towards us. Towards our preferences, comfort, and peace. If it feels good it must be of God.

Simon’s encounter with Jesus tells a different story. Jesus, our prince of Peace, cares about peace. Deeply. But His peace isn’t found when we are made comfortable. His peace resides in His identity. Simon was completely humbled before Jesus. He was wrecked. The peace Jesus offered wasn’t in taking that discomfort away. No, peace that is different than the world’s peace, rests solely in who Jesus is and what He has come to do.

My hope is that you can drive through a beautiful mountain road in the not too distant future. I hope that you encounter the Lord in nature in the coming days and weeks. And, in those moments, I hope that you are reminded that comfort was hardly ever the first response that people had when they were confronted by Jesu and His power.

Here’s to a faith that calls us to be uneasy and uncomfortable.

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When did a time of discomfort lead to growth and goodness?