Aconcagua
Laying Up Treasures
By R.M. Bud Allen
ACONCAGUA, Argentina (19,250 feet) — Darkness had already overtaken the eastern sky. To the west the last rays of the sun painted the tops of the clouds with golden fire. I was standing at High Camp in the Argentine Andes on the highest mountain in the Americas. Although relatively unknown, Aconcagua is the highest mountain in the world outside of the Himalaya. Our little tents were pitched on a rock promontory almost four miles high. It had taken two weeks of hard climbing to get here. Along the way we had experienced temperatures of 40 below, 70 mph winds, been tent-bound in storms for several days, and lived off noodles, rice and melted snow. We had carried half our gear on one day and moved ourselves and the balance the next — in effect climbing the mountain twice. Always, into thinner air. Now the air was so thin that a candle would barely stay lit and it took two breaths for each step.
The cloud tops scudded along on a brisk wind, parting as they encountered our little piece of mountain. I seemed some elevated mariner standing on the prow of my little granite boat, our bow parting the lapping clouds. I was alone with God sharing His view of the world. This moment had made it all worth it — to see a sight that words fail and few will ever experience. For the second time I, along with a handful of fellow climbers, had been higher than anyone else on the continent. First, it was Kilimanjaro in Africa and now this wind-blasted jumble of rock and ice. Now, on top of South America.
The plummeting temperatures drove me into the comparative warmth of my little tent and sleeping bag. At home, my wife would just be leaving Sunday night worship service. Mine had been a little abbreviated, lacking singing, preaching or an offering. It was just a few brief moments in the presence of God, awed to profound silence. So rich as to risk frostbite for just a few more moments of feeling the warmth of His presence. Now safe and settled, I realized by I had laid up a treasure.
Even now as I sit at my computer, months and miles removed, the memory still stirs me. My climb that day had really begun several years earlier. When approaching my mid-40s, I realized my own expiration date was fast approaching. It's the mid-life dawning of temporality. My interests began to shift to things with more lasting value. During this time, I happened on some verses in my daily devotion that changed my view of life forever.
My “light bulb” moment came from Matthew 6:19-20 and had two important precepts. The first in the negative “do not lay up treasures here on earth.” The second in the positive “do lay up treasures above.” Up front is His acknowledgment that we are all a little curator, collector or “pack rat,” depending on your zip code. Or else why would we have monumental museums and garages that can't be parked in? It's just human nature to lay up treasures. Unfortunately, the twin sins of misplaced faith and the lack of an eternal perspective often lead us to lay up the wrong treasures.
Our faith is misplaced when thinking our security is, or will come, from what we have in the bank. We are admonished repeatedly that our only true security comes from above yet Christians are often no better than the world in thinking our security rests on what we have accomplished. Just about every climber will someday slip, stumble or fall. Placing good protection and roping up is the only sure safety. But just like praying, fasting and studying the Word, it's often a hassle — until it's needed. Peter tied in to the Master of the seas and only needed to cry “Lord, save me” when challenge overcame him. We know from other stories that Peter knew how to swim, but he looked to the Lord first when his doubt sank him. Even when secured to the right anchor many Christians lack the courage to trust it. They choose to stay dry in the boat. Doubting the certainty of your protection may keep you from falling, but it will also keep you from moving ever higher.
Secondly, we have a hard time remembering what is going to last and what is not. The priceless paintings in the great museums of the world along with that junk in your garage will all be destroyed one day. And so will the locks that secured it, the insurance company that insured it and the government that guaranteed it. It is all temporal. Yet we act like it will last forever. I often ask my kids, “Will it matter 100 years from now?” Many times it won't matter 100 minutes from now. Granted, we live in the present and we can't ignore that — even Christ paid his taxes — but we would sure have more peace with our time horizon stretched a bit.
So began my quest to lay up eternal treasures. In the catalogue of life's assets the eternal ones are pretty limited. Some are obvious. Christian relationships will stand the test of eternity — those with unbelievers will not. The good work that we do for God's kingdom will last — self-serving work, even at church, is wasted. The money we invest in God will gain — everything else is lost.
However, some “eternal treasures” are not as obvious. The Word tells us our prayers are laid up. They don't expire. The prayers I prayed for my daughters this morning are stored alongside the prayers I prayed for them 20-plus years ago before they were born. The prayers my grandmother prayed for me have outlived her. What a priceless legacy we can leave or friends and loved ones. Prayers really are a gift that keeps on giving.
Another less obvious treasure we lay up is our good memories. With the Biblical parable of the rich man and Lazarus it is generally accepted we will retain, or see restored, our earthly memories after we vacate this place. I would contend that it is just the good memories that will last. Why else would God “wipe every tear from our eye” in Revelation 21:4 if not to purge us our unpleasant memories.
Simply put, good memories will bring us joy forever — the bad ones will be washed away. Many summers ago my wife and I convinced the kids to take money we had set aside for a pool and build a church in Sri Lanka. I often think about that little church in the tea plantation on the other side of the world. It may have seemed a sacrifice to my kids at the time, but since then we've had a couple of pools and no one can remember the summer without. (Of course no one remembered promising me to take care of the pool either!)
Each year, I take a group of men from my fellowship on a missions trip to build a church or bible school somewhere outside the United States. At the dedication, we place a list of the names of everyone who labored on the job in the foundation with a commitment that we will meet back on that spot on some date after the Second Coming. I hope everybody shows, but that isn't the point. I want to reinforce that no matter what comes of this earth and us individually that week's effort is laid up as a testimony forever.
I emphasize the spiritual, but there's a more practical side. Will your spouse remember that impetuous starlight stroll or watching some dumb TV rerun? Will the kids remember you waited an extra year to recapped or will they remember the family vacation that was all about them? While you're thinking about it, will they remember the crying and whining about the cost? Mea culpa. It is paid and gone so forget it. The best advice I've gotten in years on this subject was what a friend's wife told him about their daughter's wedding. He only needed to do three things: pay up, show up and shut up.
Where am I laying up treasures? How am I investing my resources, time and attention? Will it return good favor, good grace or pleasant memories 100 years from now? Something to ponder, but be careful. If you think about this too much it might just change the way you order your life. Which makes me wonder. One-hundred years from now I probably won't remember I drove this car five years instead of four, but I bet I will remember climbing that mountain in Argentina.
R.M. Bud Allen of Columbus, Ga., has been a Christian a lot longer than he's been a climber. He accepted Christ in 1976 and started climbing in 2003. Within two years, he had climbed four of the Seven Summits (Africa's Kilimanjaro, Europe's Elbrus, Antarctica's Vinson and North America's Denali) and came within 300 feet of the top of South America's Aconcagua. “We had a guy collapse with HACE (High Altitude Cerebral Edema),” Allen said. “He immediately recovered once we got some Decadron in him and got him lower. The next morning we had a second climber go down with HAPE (high altitude pulmonary edema). It took us about eight hours to get him to Base Camp. He was evacuated by mule (the helicopter wasn't available) and spent three days in a hospital in Mendoza. Aconcagua was a tough trip. And I've got to go back and finish it.” Allen also plans to climb Everest in the spring of 2006. He is a husband, father of two college-age daughters, and business owner. He shares with churches, schools and men's groups the advantages of living a full life in Christ.
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