Sunday, January 25, 2009

the snow-covered prophets.

...I have the ability to move those?
We walked outside onto a little loft sticking off the castle in Salzburg, unaware of the canvas waiting for our arrival. all i could muster was an "...Oh" as i stood, frozen. A particular friend with me was even moved to tears: "That was the most beautiful thing i had ever seen"
Impressive enough was the beautiful village of Salzburg spread out before us as we stood hundreds of feet above. More impressive were the dazzling, sparkling, shining, whatever-ing mountains staring back at us, standing almost as if in guard around the city.
I stood there for quite a while, saying "cliiiiiicccckkk" to myself, hoping that my mind would take a Polaroid and print it out of my mouth.
Looking back now, my original thought posted on this blog resonates loudly: there are places that are not here.
Our bus left the hostel in Salzburg around 8, bound for Munich, Germany. We rode down the highway, most of us yawning, stretching, and bending into uncomfortable shapes in an attempt to wake up while we prayed the usual morning rosary. I sat by myself, forehead glued to the window, staring out into open fields.
Minutes passed and our surroundings grew more and more extravagant. What started off as the "usual" mountain backdrop (jaded thought) quickly grew into God's victory speech: "Incase you forgot, these are Mine."
Just as my mind began to realize that the image was like nothing i had ever seen, a blaring ray of light shot across my line of vision: the morning sun, proudly and shamelessly begging for equal attention, bouncing and reflecting off of the snow-covered display before me. I would have had no problem if the bus driver just turned around then. "That's it, kids! Nothing else to see here." I was content with just that vision engrained in my memory.
And then my very own victory speech darted through my skull: the Creator, infinitely beautiful enough to raise up something so finitely beautiful, shows mercy to me.
what is it about mountains that draw our attention?
Is it that they remind us of how remarkably tiny we really are? Is it the way the snow lays upon them like a wedding dress?
Or is it, maybe, that much like the churches found throughout Europe, their sheer magnificence and height draws our attention upward towards the heavens? It's as if they're giant creatures holding signs reading: "God: ^^ this way ^^". I may have seen two overwhelmingly enjoyable cities this weekend, but nothing they contained had as much to teach me as the snow-covered prophets.
Much like God raised up the Alps over millions of years so they may one day reflect His beauty unto us, may we be given the grace to allow Him to raise us up to that same stature.


  1. Greg... you just keep getting cooler... just thought you ought to know.

  2. stop flattering me you two. thank you.