Another Mountaintop Experience

I´m not really much of one to sit on the beach and soak up the rays, so in some ways it´s a bit odd for me to have chosen to be here in Puerto Plata which is a huge resort destination. However, I´m not in one of the 'all inclusive' resorts, but a very small apartment hotel at the very edge of the downtown, along the malecón (sea walk), across the street from a quite small but very non-touristy beach. So I have been swimming each day, and enjoying the view and the breeze from the balcony as I read or just sit in quiet.

But since I´m not a beach person, I have wanted to explore a bit, and yesterday went to Monte Isabela, which is looms over the city at about 2600 feet. This time I did not walk to the top, nor did I take a mule -- there is a cable car. Standing on the platform, looking up the steep slopes and seeing the mountain top in the distance I thought, ¨I´m going up there?¨ And then when I saw the cable car appear in the distance I thought, ¨On THAT thing???¨ I have something of a fear of heights, and I kept looking at the size of the cable car (large) in comparison with the cable that was holding it up (slender) and having second thoughts...

I decided to put myself in the frame of mind that I was taking a bus ride up the mountain, and that the bottom of the car was not in mid-air, but instead resting solidly on terra firma. Amazing what the human mind can do. Sometimes denial is a good thing.

As it turns out, I was the only one in the cable car with the operator. Between taking about a bezillion (is there a word for this in Spanish?) photos, and saying over and over to myself, ¨it´s a bus, I´m on the ground...¨I managed to make it from the bottom of the mountain to the top without the haunting feeling of fear or panic that I usually sense in such situations.

One of the things that tour books don´t mention is that it´s not such a great idea to take the cable car in the afternoon, since it´s often overcast then. The whole point of taking a cable car ride to the top of the mountain is to see the view, which was obscured by a cloud. I did get some great pictures as I rode the cable car to the top before the car actually entered the cloud. I was feeling slightly disappointed about not being able to see from the mountaintop, until I realized that the mist-fog-cloud that blanketed the mountaintop actually had its own unique beauty.

At the top of the mountain there was a huge Dominican flag, plus a snack bar, restaurant, souvenir stands -- typical stuff you´d expect to find in a touristy area. There were also walkways winding through what was a sort of botanical garden. Supposedly there are over 200 varieties of flowering plants in the area. I didn´t count, but there were quite a few, plus giant ferns, palms of various descriptions, and other exotic plants. Strolling along the pathways, in the cool of the mist I had the impression of being in a rain forest -- and maybe it actually WAS a rain forest, with the occasional droplet falling from the treetops onto my shoulder. It was a stunning location, and a living reminder of the beauty, abundance, and majesty of God´s creation.

For me, the most impressive item at the top of the mountain was an enormous statue of Christ the Redeemer, standing with arms outstreched watching over the city. It is supposedly a replica of the statue that stands high above the city of Rio de Janeiro. What struck me about statue, which I understand is visible from the bottom of the mountain in clear weather, is that it could be seen only as I approached the top. At first, i had only a vague image of a dark figure in the mist. But the closer I got, the more clearly I could see the figure of Christ. But it was still misty enough that it was not possible to make out the full details of the Christ as long as that cloud hovered above the mountain.

I thought about the statue in the cloud as a metaphor for the spiritual life. Christ is there, present, arms outstretched, watching over his people in benevolent care and love. He is always, always there. But he is not always visible. Faith, says the epistle to the Hebrews, ¨is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.¨ The spiritual journey is something like that cable car ride -- it´s a bit scary, but at the same time exhilarating. It offers a perspective on the world that is not apparent from any other vantage point. The destination, the mountaintop goal, is Christ -- in this world and in this life obscured, not always visible. But he is there, always, always there. One bright cloudless day we will see him in his fullness, every detail.