Spiritual Stones

Winding along the eastern boundary of Minnesota, in some spots with powerful rapids and in others without a ripple, is the Kettle River.  The role of this river in creation was, in my opinion, twofold.  First, it was created to drain the water that accumulates along it’s eighty-three mile course into the St. Croix river which, in turn, carries it to the Mississippi river and ultimately into the Gulf of Mexico.

God’s second purpose in creating this river was....and I say this humbly, but with a certain degree of certainty...his second purpose in creating it was to give it to me.  I do not claim the whole river as mine but, I am convinced, that a five or six mile stretch was carved by the finger of the Creator for me.  This section that I have declared as mine was claimed as one of the world’s most perfect playgrounds by countless kids who grew up along its banks.  The cliffs along the river were arranged as a massive jungle gym.  It’s as if the trees that bring beauty to the river’s banks were constructed to be climbed, created forests to be explored and provided the material for forts to be built.  The river itself was the perfect swimming pool as well as the ideal place to idle away an afternoon sitting on its banks with a Zebco rod and reel trying to catch fish.

As mentioned, generations of kids would claim the Kettle River as their own.  While I would be among  that group, my rationale for God creating this particular section of the river for me  comes from my adult years.  It is along the muddy waters of that river where I have had some of my deepest and most intimate times of fellowship with the God of creation.  It is in that place, more than any other, that God becomes Abba to me.  It is there, among the beauty and solitude, that my spirit touches the fringes of eternity and God’s Spirit touches the deepest part of my being.  I have written before of the request I have made to the Father that I be put in charge of these few miles of the Kettle River when this era ends but I leave that in His hands. (Lessons from Abby and Hunter)

It is along this river where, more than a century ago, sandstone rock was quarried and used to construct buildings locally as well as around the state.  Workers would carve the stone from cliffs surrounding the river, cut them into slabs and ship them via train to wherever they were needed.  Once at the building site, stone masons would contour and mold the stones to fit properly together, and construct extremely solid and durable structures.  Even the base of the Minnesota State capital was built from sandstone rock taken from this particular quarry.

As I walk this stretch of river, I pass rock that was cut and prepared for transport probably fifty years before I was born but, for one reason or another, never made it out of the quarry.  These stones have sat for decades waiting to be used in buildings that will never be built.

As I walked past piles of these unused slabs of sandstone rock last fall, I was reminded of the rock used to build the temple King David designed and King Solomon built.  I think of the stones that were used to build God’s house in Jerusalem, and recall the scripture which describes the treatment of those stones:

“When the house was built, it was with stone prepared at the quarry, so that neither hammer nor axe nor any tool of iron was heard in the house while it was being built” 1 Kings 6:7 (ESV) 

The painstaking work that must have gone into the preparation of these special stones is awe inspiring.  In the quarry, they were carefully chosen, chiseled, molded and formed to perfectly fit together.  Some would be part of the wall, some used as arches, some foundational and others would perform various functions in this temple designed by King David.

The stonecutter went to the mountain where he would cut out huge chunks of rock from the quarry.  Then, using King David’s plan, he would begin to strike the blob of stone with a hammer, crudely forming the desired shape.  Perhaps he used other iron tools and instruments to mold and form the rock into the precise shape it needed to be to fulfill its role in the construction of the temple.  When the ringing of the hammer and chisel had quieted.  When the last sounds of the final bits of molding gave way to silence, the stone was carried to the temple, and perfectly fit into the area it was designed to fill.

My mind then wandered to the Apostle Peter’s words:

 “As you come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.   For it stands in Scripture: “Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious, and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.”   

1 Peter 2:4-6 (ESV)

I do not know what my Father’s heavenly temple will look like, but he has had the design from eternity, and in that I find rest.  I rest, as well, in the assurance that I am one of his living stones being prepared for my Abba’s spiritual house.  I realize that as I walk through this life, I am walking through the Creator’s quarry.  And I find peace among the noise of life knowing that, like a skilled stonecutter, He is chiseling and molding me into a living stone that will fit perfectly into his eternal spiritual house.

So I trust myself to the Master Stonecutter, longing for the day when the noise of the chiseling grows dimmer, and the sound of the molding gives way to silence.  The day when my time in this quarry will end, and I will be carried to my Father’s heavenly temple, and perfectly fit into the area I was designed to fill.

Wonder In The Wandering

“For who has understood the mind of the Lord so as to instruct him?  But we have the mind of Christ.”  1 Corinthians 2:16

In a sense, it seems like a contradiction, doesn’t it?  In quoting from Isaiah, Paul makes the argument that no one can begin to truly understand or completely comprehend the plans, feelings, views and designs of God.  At the same time, the one who belongs to Christ, and is led by his Spirit, shares the views, feelings, and purposes of Christ.  So, while we are in the flesh, it is not possible for man to fully understand God’s nature but, through Christ, His nature can be revealed through us.

I mention this because my mind has been wandering again.  As I sit in the quietness, I have spent time dwelling on everything from the creation of all things to the crucifixion of the one who created all things.

This type of contemplation is not an attempt to understand the “hows" and the “whys” of the Father, but rather it is an exercise that draws me into the vastness of the God I serve.  It allows my soul to begin to touch the immenseness of the Father who has chosen me, with all my faults and imperfections, all my blemishes and scars, and whispered in my ear, “I am Abba.  You belong to me.”  And, it is there, in the stillness, pondering the awesome grandeur of all he has done, that I begin to see more of the glory of my Father.  I begin to see more of the perfection of his plan and his purposes.  

It is in that place, not understanding, but lost in the vastness of the glory, plan and purposes of the Father, I begin to see beauty.  I begin to experience the beauty of everything that is God.  In the end, Jonathan Edwards would argue, that is the goal of the Christian life, “To enjoy and reflect the beauty of God.” 

In these all too rare moments, when my soul is captivated by the shear immenseness of all things and the beauty of my Lord, there is complete contentment.  There is remarkable peace.  There is indescribable tranquility.  They are instants in time which provide glimpses of future glory when time will be no more.  They are occasions of prayer without words.  Praise without sound.  Worship that bows my soul in silence before my Abba. 

It is here that I relate to King David’s greatest desire and his passionate request :

One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple.   Psalm 27:4 (ESV) 

God is holy, to be sure.  His love is faultless, and his plans and purposes flawless.  His glory, reflected in all things, is indescribable.  Every attribute of God is perfect in perfection.  But, in eternity, when we gaze on the infinite divine virtues that make the Father who He is, we will see beauty.  And, we will spend eternity gazing upon the sheer, continually increasing beauty that flows from our Abba.  Our delight will be in him and him alone. 

In these all to short times of silent prayer, my soul touches the outermost fringe of that beauty...that delight...and cries with deep longing, “Come, Lord Jesus!” 

But I digress.  Here’s where my mind has been wandering the past couple of weeks.  Christmas is past, but I find myself still captivated by the thought of God stepping from glory to humanity and placing himself, as a helpless little baby, in the hands of man.    
 
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  He was in the beginning with God.  All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made”. John 1:1-3 (ESV)

And:

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.  John 1:14 (ESV)  

My meditation has been on two thoughts from these verses.  First, this Word, who both was with God and was God, created all things.  And second, this Word somehow took on human form and dwelt with man.

Having the Spirit of God in me causes every part of my being to cry out that these words are true.  And, with my mind, I can, in a very minute way, understand what this is saying.  But I am not able to picture what this would even begin to look like.  My mind cannot come close to grasping how it is remotely possible for the Word to create everything from nothing.  In fact, I cannot begin to imagine what nothing would even look like.  It’s a God dimension thing that doesn’t translate into my three dimensional world view.

The same is true of the Word becoming flesh.  I get it.  I even celebrate Christmas every year.  But picturing how that happens in three dimensional terms is just not possible.

But the Father gives me the freedom to wonder.  He allows me to take my three dimensional view, and try to wander in God dimensional territory.  That is often where I get trapped in the vastness of God, and begin to sit transfixed, gazing on his beauty.

I wonder about the Word designing the perfect ecosystem on this blessed planet.  Everything about it had to be perfect to support the life he was going to create on it. 

But, I wonder, when he created trees to gather energy from the sun and designed them to also convert the carbon dioxide that animal life would exhale into oxygen for that same life to inhale....when he created those trees, did he picture one of them cut into beams, and formed into a cross, in order to crucify the flesh he was going to become?

When he added thorn bushes to his perfect ecosystem, did he look toward the day when one of them would be used to form a crown of mockery that would be jammed onto the head of the flesh he was going to become?

When flax became part of his creation, part of the unique biosphere, did he envision the linen that would come from it be made into the garments that would be gambled for at the foot of the cross he would suffer on, or the robe that Herod would place on him to ridicule him?  Did he see the flesh he was going to become being placed, broken, battered, beaten, and lifeless into the shroud of linen made from the seed of the flax he was creating?

When the Word placed iron ore into the ground of the favored planet, did he visualize the day it would be taken from the ground, smelted, and made into steel that would form the nails that would hold the flesh he would become to the cross made from the tree he created?  Did he imagine the same steel being formed into the hammer that would pound the nails through his hands and feet into the cold beams?  Did he think of the steel that would form the spearhead of the spear that would pierce the side of the flesh that he would become?

There are so many things.

When the Word created man from the dust, and sent life giving blood pumping through his body, did he think of the future day when he would become flesh, and the life giving blood would drip from his body?  When he gave him nerves to feel, and sense pain, did he imagine the pain that would be inflicted on him when he became flesh?  When he gave man a body of flesh, did he anticipate the day the nails would be driven into his hands and feet?  Or the moment the spear would pierce the flesh of his side?

There are, obviously, no answers to these questions, for they belong to God’s dimension alone.  But, I consider them, not for answers, but because they take me to that place of the vastness of God.  And from there, it is a short trip to beholding his beauty.  And then just a small step to delighting in that beauty.  And, for now, that is more than enough.  For in that place, I become keenly aware that, while I may not know everything the Word was thinking when he spun things into existence, His Spirit bears witness to my spirit, that he was thinking of me.  And, in that there is rest.