More Than a Stack of Stones
A simple stack of stones.
Doesn’t seem like much of anything special, but it would remain a touchstone of reminders for generations. After 40 years of wandering, a new generation of Jews finally crossed the Jordan River and began their quest to establish their home in the promised to them by God.
Echoing crossing the Red Sea, the river stopped its flow and the whole crew made it across to the other side. God instructed the leaders to take stones from the riverbed to make a pillar as a permanent reminder of what God had done at that place. Here’s the text from Joshua 4
When all the people had crossed the Jordan, the Lord said to Joshua, “Now choose twelve men, one from each tribe.Tell them, ‘Take twelve stones from the very place where the priests are standing in the middle of the Jordan. Carry them out and pile them up at the place where you will camp tonight.’”
So Joshua called together the twelve men he had chosen—one from each of the tribes of Israel. He told them, “Go into the middle of the Jordan, in front of the Ark of the Lord your God. Each of you must pick up one stone and carry it out on your shoulder—twelve stones in all, one for each of the twelve tribes of Israel. We will use these stones to build a memorial.
In the future your children will ask you, ‘What do these stones mean?’ Then you can tell them, ‘They remind us that the Jordan River stopped flowing when the Ark of the Lord’s Covenant went across.’ These stones will stand as a memorial among the people of Israel forever.”
There is power in a physical reminder of a moment when God showed up. To later generations going through tough times, a trip back to Gilgal to touch history might encourage them to trust God in their present situation. Another term for this pile of stones is an Ebenezer.
In the old hymn, Come Thou Fount, the second verse reflects this.
Here I raise my Ebenezer, hither by Thy help I’m come. And I hope by Thy good pleasure, safely to arrive at home.
If we flip back through our spiritual photobook, we all can remember places where FatherSonSpirit showed up strong.
I wrote last week about being with a group of men in Corvallis at Northwest Hills Church. Our crew of four and about three dozen of their guys spent Saturday together in a room filled with light and fine conversation exploring the idea of finishing strong as older men. A very worthwhile day. Sunday morning we joined these dudes and the rest of the congregation in worship and great memories flooded back of young faith full of life.
Northwest Hills Church is an Ebenezer for me.
My memory book is filled with God-stuff from that church and, say howdy, did reliving it in that place encourage me.
This young college kid first heard there the Bible explained by a teaching pastor.
I was baptized there on a snowy night when the heater broke in the baptistry.
Ministry seemed natural to do and I had a chance to work there as a college intern.
I met Claudia at NWH as she played flute and sang in a band.
She and I married in the room where the church still meets.
Our first house sat in what now is a parking lot at the church.
Returning to that place for the first time since the early ‘80s, these memories swept over me. You have those places, too, where God was right in front of you and your faith-life jumped a level or three. Just like the stones collected by the priests to stand as a silent witness to a spiritual moment, your own Ebenezer is worth a visit.
If you are able, take a trip back to that place and breathe in the smells and touch the things God used to move your heart and let it renew your spirit. If that’s not possible, then in your mind, you can replay it all. Let those memories come to life once again. This is less for nostalgia’s sake than it is for motivation to keep going, to continue to trust like you did back then, to boldly walk your journey today with the confidence you had then.
One friend said he didn’t have so much a place but a person who mentored him at key points in the past. That may be you, as well. Consider calling that person to relive those days and thank them for the help they gave (you never know if your call might be just what they need at that moment).
What visiting your Ebenezer practically does for you in your pressing moment looks like:
Remembering the promises God has made to you in the past, like that he will never abandon you.
Calling to mind all the times he has walked you through difficult days in the past thus far in your life.
Quietly turning from what God has done and looking with hope toward what he will do in and through you.
When the fog of a troubled moment is thick, it’s easy to forget the faithfulness of God in the past. What he has done, he will do again. Here we raise our Ebenezer and we’ve come this far because of God’s goodness, and he will lead us all the way home.
Touch the stones.
Remember.
Turn and go on with courage.
How about some music for the week?
Bad jokes? Sure, but just a couple
A kindly 90-year-old grandmother found buying presents for family and friends a bit much one Christmas, so she wrote out checks for all of them to put in their Christmas cards.
In each card she wrote, "Buy your own present" and then sent them off.
After the Christmas festivities were over, she found the checks in her desk.
*********************
A fellow took a new job in a hilly Eastern city. His commute was a tiring array of tunnels, bridges, and traffic jams. Thinking to make the trip more bearable, he invited some coworkers to share the ride
However, the commute actually got more stressful, especially the trips through the tunnels. He consulted the company doctor.
"Doc," the frustrated commuter complained, "I'm fine on the bridges, in the traffic, in the day and at night, and even when Joe forgets to bathe all week. But when I get in the tunnels with those four other guys crowded into the car, I get anxious and dizzy, and I feel like I'm going to explode! What is it, Doc? Am I going insane?"
"No, no, no," said the doctor. "This problem is actually quite common."
"Tell me! What is it?"
"You have what is known as Carpool Tunnel Syndrome."