The Shadow of a Mighty Rock within a Weary Land

Midweek Lenten Worship
February 27, 2013
Matthew 7:24-37

“The Shadow of a Mighty Rock Within a Weary Land”

High on a ridge at the south end of Cherokee, Iowa (about fifteen miles from where I grew up), Pilot Rock, an enormous glacial boulder, overlooks the Little Sioux River Valley. The rock is composed of Sioux Quartzite, and was carried to its current resting place by the most recent continental glacier, over 20,000 years ago. The rock is approximately 20 feet high by 40 feet wide and 61 feet long. I remember going here and climbing on this enormous rock as a boy. Long before white settlers used this marker to find the fertile valley where the town of Cherokee was founded in the 1850s, ancient trails led Native American travelers to the massive landmark, which they called “Woven Stone.” According to historical records, American novelist James Fenimore Cooper of New Jersey described Pilot Rock, though not by name, in Chapter 8 of his 1827 novel The Prairie, one of the frontier tales of Natty Bumppo, or Leatherstockings. During the Civil War, the land surrounding the stone was lost to its owner due to non-payment of taxes, and Albert Riggs, a Fenimore Cooper fan from New Jersey, bought the land to protect the rock from settlers who were blasting chunks of the quartzite to build their foundations. The Riggs family owned the parcel for many years, and it remains in private ownership at the present time. Nearby is a historical marker placed on the site by the Pilot Rock Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution (http://www.mycountyparks.com/county/Cherokee/Park/Pilot-Rock-Lookout.aspx).

The theme for our midweek Lenten worship tonight is “The Shadow of a Mighty Rock Within a Weary Land,” based on that opening hymn we sang, “Beneath the Cross of Jesus.” Places like Pilot Rock, Plymouth Rock, the Rock of Gibraltar – all of these conjure up in our minds strength and immovability; something that will last throughout the generations. Something that’s “rock solid” is something that you can depend on. Is it any wonder that the Hebrews turned to this image to describe God himself? “I will proclaim the name of the Lord. Oh, praise the greatness of our God! He is the Rock, his works are perfect, and all his ways are just” (Deuteronomy 32:4). “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer” (Psalm 19:14). With this background from the Old Testament, these same descriptors are used for Jesus in the New Testament as we heard in the Scripture lessons for this evening (1 Peter 2:4-10 and Matthew 7:24-27). Jesus is described as a “living stone,” and “a cornerstone chosen and precious.” And based on this evening’s Gospel reading, following this message, we’ll sing “On Christ, the solid rock I stand; all other ground is sinking sand.” If we want to have the firm foundation, that solid rock upon which to build our lives, then like our opening hymn reminds us, we have to stand “beneath the cross of Jesus.”

When all is said and done, so much of life is like shifting, even sinking, sand. Things deteriorate and decay. Youth and beauty fade away. What seems so vitally important earlier in life seems so inconsequential later in life. It is said that upon one occasion, Alexander the Great (356 – 323 B.C.), in reviewing his vast conquering army, broke down and wept bitterly. Confused about this, one of his generals asked him what was wrong, and Alexander the Great replied that in 100 years not one of his soldiers would be left; all would be dead and gone. There are things even more powerful than a conquering army.

As we reflect on our own lives especially during this Lenten season, are we building upon shifting, sinking sand, or are we building upon that Rock which cannot move and which is the solid foundation for this life and life eternal? At times, the lure is very tempting to build our lives on sand – things that do not last and which ultimately do not satisfy; things like beauty, glamor, money, power, prestige. These are all about as dependable as weather in late February or early March – lovely and spring-like one day and bitterly cold like winter the next. Pinning our hopes and dreams on such things will leave us disappointed and disillusioned. All of this is like that man in the Gospel lesson who took the easy route in home construction and built his house on the sand. It didn’t take as long, and he probably saved some money up front. But when the storm hit, that’s all she wrote. It’s all over. It’s just like the children’s song: “The wise man built his house upon the rock… The rains came down and the floods came up, and the house on the rock stood firm. The foolish man built his house upon the sand… The rains came down and the floods came up, and the house on the sand went splat!”

The God of our salvation, our Rock and our Redeemer, wants so much more for his children. He counsels us to build our house – our very life – on this chosen and precious cornerstone: Jesus Christ, who gave his very life for us on the cross of Calvary. Though the storms of life howl and shriek all around us, we are able to stand firm with Christ as our sure foundation, by his strength that is at work in us. Built on that rock which is Christ, we ourselves become living stones in the temple of our God, who has called us out of darkness into his marvelous light (1 Peter 2:9).

“Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord, the Lord, is the Rock eternal” (Isaiah 26:4). Amen.