1 Peter 2:4-12 · The Living Stone and a Chosen People
Life in the Living Stone Age
1 Peter 2:4-12
Sermon
by Leonard Sweet
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Canaan Valley, West Virginia is a high mountain valley. It is, in fact, the largest high mountain valley east of the Rockies. The valley nestles in the bottom of a bowl, surrounded by barren, windblown tundra on the tops of the mountains. As you walk across the strangely spongy surface of the mosses and lichens that cling to the earth high up on the mountain ridge, suddenly there rears up a row of teeth in front of you, stone stalagmites pushing up from the earth.

Chiseled and chipped by decades of wind erosion, these granite goliaths are more like sculptures than stones. Climbing up them you can discover nooks and crannies and caves to hide in.

[A personal note: Our dogs’ favorite find, however, was all wet. Two divots, one large, one small, had been scooped out of the stone and filled in with rainwater. With lolling tongues Hannibal, our huge Great Pyrenees, and Signe, our dinky Eskimo dog, each waded into the pool sized perfectly for them, drank deep, and then promptly lay down in the water. We dubbed those two depressions the dogs’ “hot tubs,” even though they were frigidly cold. “Hannibal’s hot tub” became a destination for us on every hike to Canaan Valley from that time on.]

Stones speak. As Jesus prophesied, stones even “cry out.” Stones are hard and unyielding, yet they are also strong and enduring. They can hold up the walls of our civilizations, or they can crash through and crush the shelters we have created. We give precious stones, gemstones, as tokens of love and fidelity. We hurl stones in anger and hate as the ultimate signs of condemnation and punishment.

Strong voices in the Christian tradition have argued that even stones need to be seen, not just as “organic” entities, but as in some way as “living.” Augustine of Hippo in the 5th century, and Jonathan Edwards in the 18th century, both contended that stones in some way share in the “consciousness” of all living things. And Jesus himself talked about the way the stones can so share in the suffering of the “Son of Man” that they will “cry out” if we fail to praise the “Son of God.”

But whether or not stones might be in some way “alive” is not the issue for this sermon. What concerns us this morning is that the metaphor of “stones” and “living stones” looms large in the imagination of how we live our lives.

As we read in 1 Peter’s text today, “stone” images are everywhere in the Hebrew scriptures. Though traditionally identified as a “carpenter,” Jesus’ work most certainly involved building with far more stone than wood. A masonry background, coupled with being steeped in scripture, made it little wonder that Jesus used stone imagery so much and in such powerful ways. Jesus did not just speak about stumbling-blocks and corner-stones; he also found among his detractors people with heads of bone and hearts of stone. Jesus knew stones could be both building blocks and road blocks.

Among all the “stone sayings” that have become part and parcel of our English language, there is the adage to “leave no stone unturned.” To “leave no stone unturned” means to try everything, look everywhere, when on a quest . . . for truth, for meaning, for success, for life itself.

If a child becomes ill a parent will “leave no stone unturned” in seeking out a cure.

An entrepreneur will “leave no stone unturned” when searching for a new venture partner or marketing strategy.

A teacher will “leave no stone unturned” in order to interest students and make the information come alive.

A politician will “leave no stone unturned” when looking for votes.

So why is it that our faith communities are so easily persuaded to leave whole quarries full of stones unturned? Instead, our churches seem satisfied to select just one stone, and to let themselves be defined by that one quality. The Christian community is filled with congregations that proudly declare: “We are a peace church,” or “We are a justice church” or “We are a seeker-sensitive church” or “We are a full-service church” or “We are a house church” or “We are a doctrinal church” or “We are an evangelical church.”

If churches only turn over one stone, the “spiritual house” they build will be little more than a tiny studio apartment. A studio or “efficiency” apartment is a nice way of saying you get one room to do everything in: eat, sleep, cook, relax, play, work — all has to be squeezed into one small space. Why should we make that kind of layout our blueprint for life?

In today’s gospel text Jesus declared, “In my Father’s house there are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?” (John 14:2). Or as my poor Appalachian ancestors used to sing, in a song Loretta Lynn and Elvis Presley made famous:

“I've got a mansion just over the hilltop,
In that bright land where we'll never grow old;
And someday yonder we will never more wander,
But walk the streets that are purest gold.”

1 Peter calls on the new faith community to be “living stones” even as Jesus is the living cornerstone. There is only ONE cornerstone. But it takes a lot of different stones to construct the big, rambling “spiritual house” or “mansion” Jesus described. As the community built on the hope of Christ we need to turn over lots of stone, to “leave no stone unturned,” as we work to build up the new spiritual structure built on Christ.

1. First, let’s turn over The Rolling Stone:

The rolling stone, the stone that “gathers no moss,” is always out there, always on the move. Every Christian community must be on the move and about mission. After all, God’s re-creation of men and women into “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation” was for PURPOSE. We were made for a mission: “in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness and into his marvelous light” (v.9). Our “spiritual house” is always under construction. Always adding on new rooms, new wings, new balconies, bathrooms, and basements. There is always room for more to move in.

Can we turn over the rolling stone, and commit to a journey that has no end until everyone is offered the gift of eternal life?

2. Second, let’s turn over The Tombstone:

Old cemeteries are history books carved in granite. Tombstones tell the stories of our ancestors; they document our journey from past to present. A community of faith cannot go forward without knowing where it has come from, without looking to “the rock from whence we were hewn,” as Isaiah (51:1) puts it.

The 1 Peter text today describes a wholly new temple design: an edifice set in spirit instead of stone. But this new idea used ancient scriptures to express its essence. Exodus, Isaiah, Psalms, Hosea . . . 1 Peter leaned heavily on the past to fulcrum the future. We don’t need to re-invent the wheel. What do need to figure out how to best use those wheels today.

Can we turn over the tombstone so that we can live out of the past (but not in the past) as we move into the future?

3. Third, let’s turn over The Touchstone:

The touchstone is that grounding point that everyone shares in common. The touchstone keeps us connected, even when our lives take us in very different directions. In a faith community the touchstone is cooperation and collaboration and connection, a commitment to working TOWARDS something instead of working AGAINST something. Every living stone in the foundation we are building is going to have a different shape, a different width, a different composition. But every stone works together to build up a structure with strength and presence — something none of us can do on our own.

Can we turn over the touchstone so that we can build a structure together that none of us could build alone?

4. Fourth, let’s turn over The Gallstone:

No faith community should be content with turning over pails of pebbles.

Agreeing on the paint color for the sanctuary – that’s a pebble. Changing over to more efficient light bulbs – that’s a pebble. Opening an after-school childcare center -- that’s a pebble.

Those are good things. Pebbles are good things. But our God is GREAT. Our God demands of us GREAT things. We need to see the big picture and be troubled by it, and commit ourselves to changing the world for God’s dream.

In other words, we need “gallstones,” something that troubles our spirit at a deep level, because we know it is a problem far too large for any of us to solve. It is the grit in the oyster, that irritating grain of sand, that give the oyster the incentive to create the pearl. It is the grit in our souls that opens us to the greatness of God, and God’s abilities, when our own are so obviously inadequate.

Can we turn over the gallstone to dream great dreams for God?

5. Fifth, let’s turn over The Millstone:

Sorry, but some things just take hard work. You cannot learn a language without memorizing verb forms. You cannot get your taxes done without crunching numbers. There is no such thing as an “easy birth.” Bathrooms do not clean themselves.

Some metaphors make no sense. Ever hear the phrase: “worked like dogs” . . . when did you ever see a dog work?

There is no getting around the need for discipline and hard work if real accomplishments are going to happen. A “spiritual house” is different than some “castle in the air.”

Can we turn over the millstone to turn dreams into realities?

6. Sixth, let’s turn over The Limestone:

Those elegant, elaborate repositories for bodies we see in museums called “sarcophagus” had their inner lining made out of limestone. The reason behind that choice was that the lime ate away the flesh on the body very quickly. Within a month or so all that would be left inside were bones. “Sarcophagus” (sarka phagein) means “flesh-eating,” and the limestone slab did fast work on dead bodies.

The thing is: time is short. Look at family pictures: your parents, your kids, your grandparents, your grand-kids. Events that seem like they happened yesterday are suddenly twenty years ago. We are called to build up the spiritual house, the many-roomed mansion, that we are to be a part of. There is no building permit backlog forcing us to wait around. We can act today. We must act today. We must act everyday. There is no time to waste in indecision, or second-guessing.

Can we turn over the limestone that reminds us that time is short, that NOW is the time we have to make a different world.

7. Seventh, let’s turn over The Brimstone:

Ever wonder why they are called “deviled eggs?”

It’s because of that rank smell of sulfur that permeates the kitchen and hangs on long after the hard-boiled eggs have been peeled and put away.

We need to be able to recognize that sulphur smell, the devilish aroma of brimstone breath that can sneak in and stink up our best efforts. Every time we get too caught up in our own agenda, too pleased with our own efforts, too enamored of our own voice—-we need to be able to get the whiff of brimstone breath such self-centered narcissism brings with it.

The only way to get the smell of sulfur out of the house is with open doors and fresh air. When brimstone wafts under your nose it is time to get outside yourself and search out a fresh breeze.

Can we turn over the brimstone and get outside of ourselves?

8. Eighth, let’s turn over The White Stone:

There is a passage in Revelation that highlights the uniqueness of each and every person: “To anyone who prevails, the Spirit says, I will give a white stone on which is written a new name which no one else knows except the one who receives it.”

Can we turn over the white stone and receive our “new name, our secret, true name?

There's a new name written down in glory,

And it's mine, O yes, it's mine!

And the white robed angels sing the story,

"A sinner has come home."

For there's a new name written down in glory,

And it's mine, O yes, it's mine!

With my sins forgiven I am bound for Heaven,

Never more to roam.

9. Finally, let’s turn over The Cornerstone:

The cornerstone is the one and only stone that contains the qualities of all the other stones in the spiritual temple we are building. Some of these stones we have mentioned; other we haven’t.

Some say that “cornerstone” is better translated “capstone.” Whether “capstone” or “cornerstone,” Jesus is the perfect and unblemished stone, the stone that is able to hold up the spiritual house without shifting or cracking, keeping all who align themselves with him in perfect plumb with God’s designs and intentions.

Or to summarize everything up in the words of that old gospel hymn,

“Jesus is the Cornerstone,
came for sinners to atone,
though rejected by His own,
He became the Cornerstone.

Rock of Ages...
Cleft for me....
Let me hide...
Myself in Thee....

Rock of Ages, so secure.
For all time, it shall endure,
‘Til His children reach their home,
He remains, The Cornerstone!


Animations, Illustrations, Illuminations, Ruminations, Applications

Last week an AOL survey selected the 10 most popular books in the US.

Not surprisingly, Bible still comes out #1.

But then AOL went on to make some distinctions: which of the 10 do you like best? like the least?

Incredibly, once again the Bible wins out. But in both places: the most liked book on the least; the most loathed book on the list. The Bible truly is a polarizing book . . . .

Here are some of the exact statistics:

Which of the top 10 most popular books do you like best?

The Bible 34%

'Harry Potter' 18%

'To Kill a Mockingbird' 12%

'Lord of the Rings' 8%

'Catcher in the Rye' 7%

'Gone With the Wind' 6%

'The Da Vinci Code' 5%

'The Stand' 4%

'Angels and Demons' 3%

'Atlas Shrugged' 3%

Which of the top 10 most popular books do you like least?

The Bible 22%

'The Da Vinci Code' 17%

'Atlas Shrugged' 14%

'Harry Potter' 10%

'Catcher in the Rye' 9%

'The Stand' 8%

'Lord of the Rings' 7%

'Angels and Demons' 5%

'Gone With the Wind' 5%

'To Kill a Mockingbird' 3%

***

Making the rounds of the Internet is this anonymous story. It’s called “I had a drug problem.” Here it is in full, just in case you missed it:

The other day, someone at a store in our town read that a Methamphetamine lab had been found in an old farmhouse in the adjoining county and he asked me a rhetorical question, “Why didn’t we have a drug problem when you and I were growing up?”

I replied, I had a drug problem when I was young: I was drug to church on Sunday morning. I was drug to church for weddings and funerals. I was drug to family reunions and community socials no matter the weather

I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults. I was also drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my parents, told a lie, brought home a bad report card, did not speak with respect, spoke ill of the teacher of the preacher, or if I didn’t put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me

I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth washed out with soap if I uttered a profanity. I was drug out to pull weeds in mom¹s garden and flowerbeds and cockleburs out of dad’s fields. I was drug to the homes of family, friends and neighbors to help out some poor soul who had no one to mow the yard, repair the clothesline, or chop some firewood, and, if my mother had ever know that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, should would have drug me back to the woodshed.

Those drugs are still in my veins and they affect my behavior in everything I do, say, or think. They are stronger than cocaine, crack, or heroin; and, if today’s children had this kind of drug problem, America would be a better place.

God bless the parents who drugged us.

***

A young monk was returning to the monastery after his annual retreat. Waiting for him was the older monk who was always criticized him, belittled him. “Out skiving again,” the young monk was cuttingly greeted, “and in spite of all your costly retreats you still look no different to me.” The younger monk paused, smiled and small smile and murmured, ‘Ah, maybe; but you look different to me.”

***

St. Thomas Aquinas said that there is an apprenticeship in love. First, he said, try to love a stone; second, try to see and love a cloud; third, wait a while and then try to love a petal, a bird, a star, and then, and only then, try to see and love a human being. “Christ is rising,” St. Thomas insisted.

***

Jesus did a bold, dramatic reversal on two images: stone and flesh.

First, stone: stones were seen as dead, inanimate, lifeless entities. Jesus, a stone mason by trade, imbued them with life and energy.

Second, flesh: proto-Christian communities connected eating Jesus’ flesh with life, not decay. For them, the body was back; and its mouth was working, because they were hearing new words of Jesus.

***

“Leaving No Stone Unturned”

I pick up certain stones. To say I collect them puts it in much too organized a fashion, as I do not sort, label, or even take the trouble to identify them (igneous, sedimentary, etc.). Here is what makes me pick up a stone: the knowledge or suspicion that it has been part of an amazing story. For example, I have somewhere at home (probably in a dresser drawer) a chunk of the Berlin Wall and a pebble from the Adriatic Sea. More importantly, I have elaborately imagined life-histories for each, which will remain with me long after the stones themselves are lost or sold for a mint on e-Bay.

I am willing to bet that, somewhere in your life, you have a “story-stone”. Maybe it’s the big rock in your engagement ring, or maybe a bright pebble your kid found for you while she was building a sand castle ¼ as priceless as any diamond.

The Bible, having arisen out of the rocky Middle-East, is chock full of stone-stories. The one I always pick up and look at this time of year finds Jesus in the desert, hungry enough to eat a camel, when Satan approaches him: “Why not just turn this stone into a nice loaf of California sourdough?”

The safe way to interpret this story is to say that it is strictly about Jesus fighting off the urge to use his divine power for personal relief. If I keep listening, though, I realize that this is also a story about how I am tempted. I may not be able literally to turn a stone into bread, but there are things in my life I can do precisely and only because God has given me the power to do them. The temptation is, do I do them for personal reasons (everything from survival to self-aggrandizement) or do I hold off doing them in honor of an even higher purpose? Bread alone isn’t enough, even if you’ve conjured it from a chunk of sandstone. I have a talent for finding good words, but there are times in my work with patients and families and staff where even the most artfully crafted words won’t work¼and I have to trust that God can use the awkward silence every bit as well as my eloquence. I have to let the stones stay stones.

--Chaplain Steve Laue

***

Some groups like the Rolling Stones stay around long enough to become their own tribute band.

***

“It is said that the close study of stone will reveal traces from fires suffered thousands of years ago. . . I am beginning to believe that we know everything, that all history, including the history of each family, is part of us, such that, when we hear any secret revealed, a secret about a grandfather, or an uncle, or a secret about the battle of Dresden in 1945, our lives are made suddenly clearer to us, as the unnatural heaviness of unspoken truth is dispersed. For perhaps we are like stones; our own history and the history of the world embedded in us, we hold a sorrow deep within and cannot weep until that history is sung.”

Susan Griffin, A Chorus of Stones (Anchor, 1993).

***

In Exodus, Moses broke the tablets of stone when he saw the people dancing before the golden calf. The Midrash asks: “Who authored Moses to break the tablets given to him by God? What right had Moses to cast them from his hands? . . . The Midrash suggests that Moses did not, in fact, carry the massive tablets since they were so huge that no human being could possibly carry them down the mountain. Moses found, according to the Midrash, that no sooner had he put his shoulder to the tablets than the tablets carried him, avoiding the yawning crevices and jagged rocks in miraculous fashion; but the tablets possessed this miraculous quality only by virtue of the fact that the power was in the words engrave on them by the finger of God. When the people ... so blatantly disobeyed the word of God on the tablets, the tablets lost their miraculous power to carry Moses. The tablets became immense blocks of lifeless stone and Moses perforce could no loner carry them nor could they carry him. Moses had to let the tablets slip out of his hands.”

Louis Jacobs, Jewish Preaching (Mitchell Vallentine & Company, 2004), 109.

How could Moses have carried those heavy tablets?

“As the Midrash puts it, it is not Moses who carries the tablets; the tablets carry Moses.”

“When the people surrendered themselves to frenzied undisciplined dancing before the golden calf, the tablets became no more than heavy stones that even a Moses could not carry.”

***

“When we were in England a few years ago, we visited Bristol, which was the home of Charles Wesley, one of the founders of the Methodist movement, the guy who wrote all those hymns Methodist people sing. There’s a famous statue of him there. On the basis of the statue are these words from Wesley, ‘May I commend my Savior to you.’ Beautifully British, don’t you think? No force. No coercion. Just this gentle witness: ‘May I commend my Savior to you.’

The words caught my eye, because I had seen them before, on another grave stone, in a little cemetery in a small town in Western Pennsylvania. When I saw them there, I had no idea that they had come from Wesley, but I knew that they had been chosen by the man who was buried there. I don’t know where he got them; my guess is that he heard them from some preacher along the way. But I know he had made all the arrangements himself, even dickered with the funeral director–a lifelong friend and neighbor–a bout the cost of the casket. He had chosen the words, I assume, as the way he wanted people to remember him. It reflected what was at the center of his life: ‘I commend my Savior to you.’

This man was not a preacher. He was a business man, who, with only a high school education, had built a strong and growing business in that small town. Everyone knew him. Everyone knew how he lived, how he worked, what he did. The preacher at his funeral used the example of the Old Testament character of Enoch, of whim it is said, ‘Enoch walked with God.’ The preacher said that everyone in that little town knew that this businessman walked with God. The one thing in his life, the thing which mattered most to him, was knowing Christ. It was so much a part of his life, that it was no surprise that the words on his stone would read, ‘I commend my Savior to you.’

I knew that man. He wasn’t perfect. There were places where we disagreed. But there was never a doubt in my mind that the ‘one thing’ at the center of his life was knowing Christ and walking with him. I know because that man was my Dad.”

James Harnish, “Walking with Jesus,” Tampa, Florida, 8 March 1998.

ChristianGlobe Networks, Inc., Collected Sermons, by Leonard Sweet