September 7, 2008:  ROCKIN’ ROUND UP
Scripture:  Exodus 33:17-22, Luke 8:4-8, Isaiah 51:1-2, Matthew 16:18, Psalm 133:1, Exodus 17:3-6,
Jeremiah 23:29, Matthew 27:60 (Psalm:  2 Samuel 22)
Eileen Parfrey  -  Springwater Presbyterian Church

Children’s Time:  Agate, by Joy Morgan Dey, (published by Lake Superior Port Cities, Inc. 2007

            After a lifetime of combing gravel roads around my family’s cabin in northern Minnesota, I found the biggest agate of my life this summer.  Actually, it was only half an agate, so that the thrill of finding it was tempered by the agate hunt which became the subject and object of my daily 3-mile walks.  In the process, I not only found handfuls of lesser agates, but I gained life lessons which I’m bringing back to you [distribute baggies with both agate and lessons].
            My passion for agate hunting was handed on by a mother who gave each of us four kids an oatmeal box at the beginning of each summer, with instruction to fill it with agates.  We never quite accomplished that, but it kept us busy.  As you’ve been receiving your agate baggies, you will have noticed that each contains a list of lessons and each lesson has a Bible verse attached.  That’s so you know these are theologically sound lessons.  My hope is that by putting these smaller agate hunt lessons in a Biblical context, you will appreciate the larger notion that scripture can shape how we live, even when using something as frivolous as stories about hunting for rocks. 
            The first lesson on your list is, You’ll notice what you need to notice. When Moses wants to see God face-to-face, God compromises by giving him a view of “what has just passed,” using a rock to shelter Moses from potential consequences.  Let’s hear Exodus 33:19-22.  I discovered that if my walks focused on hunting for agates, only looking at the ground spoiled my walk.  The purpose of going out was to enjoy the walk, just as the purpose of our lives is living.  I could be alert to opportunities to find rocks, listening to the promptings that “this might be a good place to look,” but I had to rest in the notion that I would find as many agates as I needed.  To pay attention to the walk rather than the hunt meant I could enjoy my walk just for being a walk, more evidence I was trusting in God as the Giver of all good things. 
            Next lesson:  It’s about more than finding agates.  That was what I’d lost sight of.  As one walks the roads around the cabin, there is potential for sighting bear, fox, skunk, and deer, and I missed it, staring at the ground.  Not to mention the risk of getting run over by a car.  Reader for Luke 8:4-8?  Agates are semi-precious stones, precious to me because of the childhood memories they represent.  On those heartbreakingly gorgeous summer mornings, there was more at stake than the ground two steps ahead of me.  We’re in this life for the living, not to acquire things, even if they are precious.
            Next lesson:  Keep showing up.  Even though I walked those roads 16 mornings and many evenings besides, each and every time I found another handful of agates.  After 80 years’ worth of children spending their summers hunting for agates, you would think the supply would be diminished.  But new agates are always showing up, whether because a load of gravel has been spread or the grader scraped up some more or traffic stirred the surface, whether frost heaved them up or rain washed them out. There are always more where that came from.  This lesson suggested that life’s upheavals might be God’s way of revealing what is precious.  Let’s hear Isaiah 51:1-2.  You remember Abraham and Sarah.  If you think you’ve made a mess of your life, remember that Abraham tried to pass off Sarah as his sister to save his own skin, they both engaged in child abuse, and they were still called righteous and were blessed by God.
            Next lesson:  Be prepared for some peskiness.  This lesson came to me via horseflies.  Horseflies love to hang out on the road, and they have nothing better to do than bite and harass passersby.  There are two defenses against horseflies:  wear a hat and keep moving in order to leave their spot on the road.  In other words, keep doing what you set out to do, take reasonable precautions, and peskiness will pass.  You might get stung as well as annoyed, but the alternative is to stay inside and miss the summer.  Let’s hear Matthew 16:18.  You remember Peter.  Peter periodically tried to tell the Son of God what to do and then denied knowing him during his trial.  Yet Peter was the one to whom Jesus entrusted the continuation of his ministry.  God seems willing to put up with our peskiness, so maybe we can survive some, too.  Take reasonable precautions, but keep moving, doing what you’re called to do.  The peskiness will pass.
            Next lesson:  It’s more fun with someone else.  When I shared my agates with friends who had grown up with me, we re-discovered our common bond.  While we hunted for agates, and admired them together, the rocks really did seem prettier.  Let’s hear Psalm 133:1.  Sharing your faith life with others of like mind and heart makes it that much deeper and sweeter.  It’s why we come together Sunday mornings and gather at other times to delight in the Lord. 
            Next lesson:  Water brings out their best.  This sounds like a baptismal statement, and maybe it is, but every kid who has ever hunted agates in northern Minnesota knows that the only sure way to verify the authenticity of an agate is to lick it.  The first thing everyone does when coming home from agate hunting is to go down to the lake with an old pan to swish your rocks in the water.  But there is more to rocks and water than what meets the eye.  Let’s hear Exodus 17:3-6.  As Presbyterians, we are inclined to think “baptism” when we think of water.  In the waters of ourbaptism God claims us as beloved, and we promise to try to be like Jesus.  But what if, every time we turned on the faucet and water gushed out, what if we consciously brought to mind a specific instance of God’s abundance?  We might begin by remembering how food, clothing, shelter, family come flooding into our life like water gushing from a rock—improbable, providential, abundant.
            Next lesson:  Failure isn’t the end of the world.  One day as I hustled back to the cabin with a double handful of agates, my feet slid out from under me on the gravel road, so that all those precious rocks flew into the air.  I experienced a sense of failure, but as I went back and forth over the area re-collecting those rocks, I also learned the value of different points of view.  It was a good lesson in learning to live with disagreement and hurt, failure to accomplish what I’d set out to.  Not the sentimentality of “I found even better rocks” or even “you were able to pick up everything, so it was no great loss.”  No, I experienced other points of view, discovering I could perceive more clearly as I looked from different vantage points.  It’s a lesson about trusting One who is greater than me and my own point of view.  Let’s hear Jeremiah 23:29. 
            Jeremiah also anticipates the lesson that the most beautiful inside can be hidden by a plain outside.  Remember my gorgeous prize-winning rock that started everything?  It was half an agate.  Had that rock not been split, I would not have known it was an agate, its exterior is so plain.  When the hammer of God splits open our lives, beautiful things can be revealed.  This is not necessarily a pleasant process, but our faith remembers a rock that was split open.  Let’s hear Matthew 27:59-60.  That was Jesus’ body that Joseph of Arimathea wrapped in linen and laid inside a rock—a rock hollowed out to store the dead.  Three days later, that rock burst open, proving that even rock cannot contain what God wills to live.  
            Rock that splits open to gush water.  Rock hammered and hollowed to try to contain death.  Rock breaking open to reveal beauty.  Rock, inert and voiceless.  Rock that we take for granted and use as we see fit.  But rock that, even today, draws our attention, invites us to keep showing up, to put up with peskiness for God’s sake, rock whose beauty requires we share the delight with others.  This Table of Bread and Wine reminds us once again of the Rock that gushes Living Water, a water which I promise will bring out in us our best.  Let us give thanks for that living reminder.  Amen.

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