Luke 19:29-40
Psalm 118:19-29
Isaiah 45:21-25
Philippians 2:5-11
Luke 22:39--23:56
Psalm 22:1-21
I don't hear any joyful shouts this morning, so I kinda hoped that this stone would begin to sing or shout, maybe something like: "Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!"
Didn't we just hear Jesus say that if his followers were silent, the stones would shout out?
When was the last time you joyfully praised God with such a loud voice that someone had to tell you to shut up?
(Priest listens carefully to the stone again.)
Jerusalem has stones everywhere. I didn't hear any of them shouting their joy, Listening carefully, however, one might still hear Jesus' tears over the Holy City. As the stones are thrown by Palestinians at Israelis and by Israelis at Palestinians, those stones may be whispering echoes of Jesus' words, "If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace!" Jerusalem today still hangs on the edge of destruction. We still do not recognize the time of God's visit.
That's as true right here in our lives as it is in the Holy City.
This stone is not from Jerusalem. It's not a holy stone from a shrine or even a special place. It's an ordinary Minnesota field stone. It's a working stone that lives in my bedroom. It's job is to sit decoratively with two other stones by the sliding door, and keep the raccoon from getting inside.
Sometimes I hold it and listen. But it hasn't said anything to me yet. Poet Annie Dillard writes about a neighbor who lives alone with a stone he is trying to teach to talk. He spends time each day at their lesson. He may one day teach his son to continue the lessons.
Some, of course, laugh. They laughed at Jesus, too. God only knows which parts of creation are filled with messages for us. I suspect the problem is that we do not have the ears to hear.
At Jesus' birth, angels sang "Peace on earth!" As Jesus faced his death, his followers shouted, "Peace in heaven!" Wherever Jesus is going, it seems there is going to be peace: In the stable, in the temple, in heaven. In the desert, on the cross, in the tomb.
It's hard to find peace in today's readings. Peter, who was himself named "the Rock," turns away from Jesus. Jesus is tortured and mocked. Pilate tries to set Jesus free, but the people demand that he be crucified. Jesus tells the women to weep for themselves. Bystanders jeer at Jesus even as he forgives them. An innocent man dies and the broken body is laid in a stone tomb.
Stone-cold darkness and silence swallow up all the joyful shouting that rang in the streets earlier. No palms waving. No disciples shouting. The open mouth of the stone tomb is sealed with a stone. Now, as Jesus warned us, the peace is hidden from our eyes.
Have you been there? In that dark place of waiting? A place of silence beyond tears, where peace and joy and life seem forever sealed away. The stone is huge and massive and immoveable and silent.
We wait for the stone to speak. God has used stone to speak before.
Once on a distant mountain, God's law came us on tables of stone, written with the finger of God. These were "the things that make for peace" Yet strong as the stone of the law is, we break it again and again. And the peace remains hidden.
Again a stone will speak to us. You know how today's story ends: Once, long ago, on the first day of the week, at early dawn, the women found the stone rolled away from the empty tomb. Again the stone speaks of "the things that make for peace." Yet we, again and again, like the women become frightened, and often remain silent.
When there's a Palm-Sunday-type parade or a party, we might be willing to shout and sing. But when God mixes that celebration up with suffering and death, we are easily silenced. Even when we know the end of the story is good news of life and joy and peace, it can be hard to wave our branches and cheer. How can we shout our joyful praises of God in the midst of a world that, like Jerusalem, seems so far from the peace of Christ?
I'm still waiting for God to raise up from the stones those joyful and peaceful children of Abraham.
I'm waiting for you (addressing the stone) to tell me the hidden things that make for peace. Must I, like Annie Dillard's neighbor, wait a lifetime and more to hear you speak?
Listen? Can you hear the peace it speaks? Listen, and listen, and listen. Day after day, year after year, and you may learn the hidden things of peace.
I may never teach my stone to speak. But it may teach me to listen. Listening can be the beginning of peace. The tablets of stone, the stones we stumble over, the stones that others may throw at us, the stones rolled away from the tombs of our lives..... all may speak to us of peace. All may teach us to listen. We may discover that we do indeed have ears to hear what Jesus is saying to us. This time we might hear and recognize the time of God's visit.
This time God's peace may not be on stone tablets from the mountaintop or in the tears of a rabbi entering Jerusalem on a young colt. This time God's peace may arrive in your neighbor – the crazy one teaching a stone to talk, the caring one who bakes you cookies, the lonely one waiting for an invitation to anything, or the angry one taking you to court. Learn from the stone to listen to them. Listening is one of the things that make for peace Don't miss God's visit this time.
This time the message is written not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts (2 Corinthians 3:3).
Peter, the Rock, writes that we are to be living stones, that will be built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ (1 Peter 2:5).
You, holy priests, listen to all your neighbors. As the living stones speak, recognize God's presence in them, and you may just find yourself shouting joyful praises.
