What you hold in your hand is as old as you and older; as old as your name, your language, your culture and older; as old as your nation, your race, the species homo sapien, the human genus and older; as old as the soil, as the mountains, as the rivers, as the sea and older; as old as the earth, as the sun and the moon and the stars; but younger than God.
God made the stone—made it and mean its colour, its contours, its journey from within the earth to above it.
God made the stone—and had earth never revealed it, and you never held it, it would still bear witness to God: to God’s deep intention to make the world, to mean the world, to want the world, to wean the world from its dependence in order to be in authentic relationship with God.
It would still bear witness to God’s deep intention to walk the world and hold in his hand something of what you now hold in yours, for the sake of being in relationship with us, with the earth, with the universe, with the very creation which God made.
The building block that was rejected
became the cornerstone of a whole new world.
Feel the stone in your hands.
This is the stone the builders rejected. This is the earth that we have trampled. This is the Creation of which we are a part; and yet which we have forsaken.
Jesus walked through the wilderness, through a dry place. He was thirsty and hungry an all alone. As he picked up a stone, a voice said, “Turn it into bread.” And he could have… but he let the stone be a stone.
This is the stone the builders rejected. This is the earth that we have trampled. This is the Creation of which we are a part; and yet which we have forsaken.
Jesus came to his own, but his own would not receive him. We heard him speak, hear him open the scriptures, but would not listen. “Enough! Enough!” we cried and took him to a hill with stones in our hands.
This is the stone the builders rejected. This is the earth that we have trampled. This is the Creation of which we are a part; and yet which we have forsaken.
Jesus called those who had no calling. He named those who had no name. “What you didn’t manage with fish, you’ll do with people,” he said. “They call you simple Simon, but I name you Peter, the rock… and on the likes of you, I’ll build my assembly, my people, my church.
This is the stone the builders rejected. This is the earth that we have trampled. This is the Creation of which we are a part; and yet which we have forsaken.
Jesus bent down to touch the ground, to draw in the sand, to cradle children, to kneel with those whom we despised. “Throw your stones,” he said. “Throw them at her; but let the flawless fling theirs first.” And they went way with stones in their hands.
This is the stone the builders rejected. This is the earth that we have trampled. This is the Creation of which we are a part; and yet which we have forsaken.
Jesus was edged out of the world, onto a cross, into a tomb. And a stone was stationed at the entrance to keep the dead away from the living. And now we wait for the stone to be rolled away; for death to be destroyed; and for the first fruits of the new creation to emerge.
The building block that was rejected
became the cornerstone of a whole new world.
Attend to the stone in your hands.
“Come,” says God, “you are living stones. You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a new creation, a holy nation.”
“But we are just stones, O God—stones for kicking and stones for throwing and stones for hitting and stones for stacking and stones for filling the cracks of a broken earth.”
“Come,” says God, “you are living stones. You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a new creation, a holy nation.”
“But we are just stones, O God—dumb, mute stones who just sit here being stones, silently, passively, stonily.”
“Come,” says God, “you are living stones. You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a new creation, a holy nation.”
“But we are just stones… we are just stones…”
The building block that was rejected
became the cornerstone of a whole new world.
Listen to the stone in your hand.
“Teacher, order your disciples to stop,” some Pharisees called from the crowd. He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.” “If these were silent, the stones would shout out.”
So, O God, if we are just stones, sitting stonily in silence. What is it that the real stones say? What hosannas do they sing or blessings do they call upon you?
“Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord.” It’s a funny sort of king that rides a donkey and enters a city without an army. It’s a funny sort of king who thinks that stones might speak and peace will change the world. It’s a funny sort of king that builds new nations on tired old rocks, and is prepared to feel a stone strike before allowing one to be thrown.
What is it that the stones would say of you? Those stones older than us or our species; those stones as old as the stars, but younger than you—would they speak to us of star dust, or tell us of the very act of creation itself? Would they speak to us of God who made the world in order to love; of a world who rejected God and in rejecting God, rejected itself as beloved creature of God? Would they speak of a God who entered the world God created—a God who became dust for the sake of showing us the value of dust? A God who reminds us that we are dust of the earth and dust of the stars, God’s breath and God’s being? Do these stones even need to speak to remind us that nothing is lost on the breath of God; and that everything has its season and its purpose? Do these stones simply by their being stones tell us of the world which God made, which God loves and which God longs to draw into a parental embrace?
The whole of creation groans in waiting for the coming fulfilment of your realm, O God. It does not speak, but, if we listen, we just may discover the story of your world and our salvation.
The building block that was rejected
became the cornerstone of a whole new world.
Adapted and expanded from “Building Block” by Noel Paul Stookey © 1977 Public Domain Foundation Inc. and “Three Stone Meditations” by John L. Bell from He Was In The World: Meditations for Public Worship (Wild Goose Resource Group, Iona Community, 1995), pp. 92-96.
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