The story about the wise man who built his house on a rock and the foolish man who built his house on the sand got me to thinking about storms, sand, and rocks.

Storms, Sand, and Rocks

Psalm 46      Matthew 7:21-29

We know about storms. We know about sand. The rock is the challenge.

There is something almost eerie about having this text this morning, when storms have been so much in the news lately. There was the cyclone in Burma (aka Myanmar), the tornado in Hugo, Minnesota, and the heavy rains that followed the earthquake that did such terrible damage in China. Meteorologists tell us that severe storms seem to be increasing, part of the larger pattern of climate change that we are watching with growing alarm, but our ancient ancestor who wrote Psalm 46 saw the same chaos as we see today.

But not all storms come from atmospheric disturbances.

We do not have to think very hard to name the storms in our own lives: broken relationships, illnesses and accidents, financial reverses, breakdowns in our homes, cars, and souls. Sometimes it literally feels like a storm – we are buffeted by the rains and the floods and the winds of human life just as surely as we are by the rains and floods and winds of the weather. Oh yes, we know about storms.

And we know about sand – about the beliefs and habits that we come to depend upon that turn out to be unstable and unsafe. The basic one, I suppose, is the belief that we can take care of ourselves – the notion that it is our own efforts that largely determine how our lives will unfold. It is a curious belief, given how often we have experienced the opposite – times when our own efforts have been entirely inadequate. We have good intentions, we work hard, we look ahead and plan, but our lives still do not unfold according to the plot line we have authored. Sometimes it is our own actions that undo us; sometimes it is the larger movements around us; and sometimes the cause remains a mystery. What is clear, if we will look honestly, is that our own efforts are not enough to heal our disappointments, mend our errors, make our scars disappear, or reconcile us with our estranged dear ones.

These dramas play out in many different ways. Sometimes we think we can outsmart our problems; sometimes we think we can overpower them; sometimes we just hope we can outlast them.

There are other kinds of sand, too. There is the belief that money will make us happy, that hurting others will make us strong, that using violence will bring peace, that keeping secrets will prevent emotional trauma, that trying harder will change the results of our efforts, that scolding will change someone else’s behavior … It can be a long list. Yes, we know about sand, too.

What’s left is the rock – the rock to build the house upon.

Maybe you remember a sermon I preached once (I couldn’t find it this week myself) about rocks – how you could learn the whole story of the Bible if you just paid attention to the rocks:

· the creation of the earth in Genesis

· The rock that Moses struck to get water for the complaining Israelites

· the pile of rocks they left to mark the place they entered the Promised Land

· the rock David used to slay Goliath

· the rock that Jesus refused to throw at the woman convicted of adultery

· The rocks that Jesus said would cheer for him even the crowd was silenced on the day he rode into Jerusalem

· And finally the rock that was rolled away from the tomb.

All of these rocks are just props, really, used by the ancient storytellers to speak to us about their encounters with God. But no poetry, no prose – not even prose in the Bible – can really describe a divine encounter.

And that, I believe, is where the real rock is to be found: in a personal encounter with God. We understand storms because we have been in storms ourselves. We understand sand because we have had the foundations wash away from underneath us ourselves. And we will understand the rock – the solid place on which to stand and to build and to grow and to life – we will understand the rock only by meeting it in person.

Several times a year, someone comes into my office hoping that I will be able to prove to them that there is a God. They usually leave disappointed, because this is a request that I cannot fulfill. The rock of faith is not usually found by thinking our way into it, but by living our way into it. The rock of faith is revealed as we pray, listen, and work. Sometimes the revealing is dramatic, but more often it is subtle, gradual, cumulative. Sometimes it is very private, but more often it grows in the rich soil of community. Sometimes it is very clear, but more often it is dim, mysterious, and paradoxical.

But still it is a rock. And when the rains fall and the floods come and the winds blow, it is the foundation that will hold fast, hold firm, and hold faith.

Amen.

Prayer for June 1, 2008

Almighty and everlasting God, creator of all things seen and unseen, hear now our silent prayers, as we open our hearts to you in the sacred quietness.

God of faith and hope, we bring before you our prayers for those we have named this morning – we especially remember … Bring to each of them the gifts of mercy and grace that are most needed, according to your wisdom and love.

God of our hearts and minds, this morning we offer our prayers for those circumstances in our lives that we cannot usually bring ourselves to say aloud. Help us to name before you and one another the disappointments, shames, sorrows, and shortcomings that eat away at our faith and our wellbeing.

We pray for our relationships that are conflicted, dispirited, and unfulfilling.

We pray for those who are troubled about their sexuality, and about their intimate relationships.

We pray for ourselves and our loved ones who live with mental illness.

We pray for ourselves and our loved ones who live with chronic health conditions.

We pray for everyone who has been betrayed, cheated, or defrauded.

We pray this morning for those who live with addictions and alcoholism.

We pray for those who have lost their employment, or who are employed at work that is demeaning, dangerous, or disheartening.

We pray for those in financial difficulties, whether of their own making or the result of unexpected events.

And we pray for the secrets of our hearts that we can speak only to you.

All of these things we pray in the name of the one who listens with loving attention to all of our sorrows, and who bears them with us, even Jesus the Christ, and we pray together now in the words that he taught us …