Story Stones: A Sunday Sermon Keeps Reverberating. A Note From Jan

The guest minister, Rev. Bill Rankin, at St. John’s Episcopal in Ross, Ca. (Matt and Heather’s church) began his sermon last Sunday with these words:

“Were the whole realm of nature mine,  That were a present far too small; LOVE so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all.”

These lines were not read but spoken from memory. From the heart. Words taken from what some consider the greatest hymn in the English language, WHEN I SURVEY THE WONDROUS CROSS, written in 1707 by Isaac Watts.

I’m used to a very different kind of a message following the singing of that hymn by congregation or choir. What followed was what I grew up warned to shun:  “the social gospel.” 

The minister recalled attending the funeral of a murdered civil rights leader in the 60s, where a relative of the slain man said that  the elders must not forget to tell the children, or they will not remember the ones who made such sacrifices for them. Rev. Rankin then said, “We, the older ones, must do the same.  Tell the children about the martyrs, the saints of our Christian faith. Historic and recent martyrs.”

Tell the children. I wondered …What do we tell them? Sometimes, we talk social graces, but not “social gospel.” Use your napkin. Elbows off the table. Say “please” and “thank you.” What do we tell them that really matters? 

There’s a story in the Old Testament that tells of the children of Israel, under Joshua’s leadership, crossing over into the Promised Land.  No bridge needed over the Jordan River at flood stage? Not with God and a miracle. God rolled up the waters of the Jordan like a liquid scroll and His children crossed over on a DRY riverbed. You can read about it in Joshua 3 and 4 in the Bible. Some were given an assignment: One man from each of the 12 tribes was to take a stone from the riverbed and carry it on their shoulders to the other side. The twelve stones came with purpose. They were to become story stones. Rock solid evidence of what God had done. Pile them up, like an altar, then TELL your children of God’s might and faithfulness. Don’t let them forget.

Rev. Rankin’s message was a story stone different from the ones I grew up with but an important one, nonetheless. He came across to me as one of those older, teachable ones, still learning on the job and desiring to follow Jesus.  He told the story of Archbishop Romero of El Salvador. Controversial priest who rose to become Archbishop, in part, because of his conservatism.

What is it about us that doesn’t encourage growth in our leaders? We vote them in and dare them to change. Can we not learn “in office”? Romero did.  The plight of the poor and the human rights atrocities occurring in El Salvador “led him to embrace a non-violent form of liberation theology.” (Heresy to some, threatening to others, hope to the poor.) He became an advocate for the poor, which some thought synonymous with being a Marxist. He was murdered while celebrating mass one Sunday by those who hated his message.

Now, some of you may have stopped reading. Worried I’ve gone off the deep end…the left side of the pool. But what worries me is not right or left but right or wrong. What does it mean to follow Jesus? I’m finding it’s not always so easy to discern when to sit down, stand up, shut up, speak out or stay at the table listening to learn.

When I look at church history with its martyrs and saints, what does it say to me during this Lenten season? What difference does Christ’s death mean to me? One of Jud’s gifts to me continues to be his example of a teachable mind and heart while remaining steadfast in the basics of his faith in Christ.  He pushed me to keep listening,  learning, asking questions. I’m grateful to him and to God who seems unruffled by my puzzling, wailing or simply sitting and staring without an easy answer in sight. 

Rev. Rankin’s message ended with these words, ”Christianity is not about winning.  It is more about serving, come what may.” I get the serving. It’s the “come what may” that scares me. The radical part of taking up my cross and following Jesus.

Lord, have mercy. I’m such a chicken. Which causes me to ask, “What are my story stones?” I long to tell the stories that count to my children, grandchildren and whoever else might be listening.

One thing’s for sure. Isaac Watts got it right more than 300 years ago when he told his story through these lyrics:

“When I survey the wondrous cross, On which the Prince of Glory died, My richest gain I count but loss, And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast, Save in the death of Christ my God! All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to His blood.

See from His head, His hands, His feet, Sorrow and Love flow mingled down! Did e’er such love and sorrow meet, Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small;   LOVE so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, MY ALL.”

Radical LOVE.