Something There Is That Doesn’t Love a Wall
Yesterday I preached on the story of Joshua and the walls of Jericho. Afterward, our dear friends Bill and Sherry Rankin led our time of communion. Here are the words Sherry wrote. I thought you’d enjoy them:
Robert Frost said: “Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.” He didn’t say what that something was, but whatever it was, it wasn’t human, because we humans love walls. There are some amazing walls in this world, most of them built to keep people out.
The longest man-made structure on earth is a wall: the Great Wall of China, begun in the 5th century before Christ to keep out the Mongol hordes. Then there’s the wall the Emperor Hadrian built in the 2nd century after Christ across Northern England, to keep the out the Scottish hordes. And there’s Offa’s dyke, built in the 8th century along the boundary of Mercia and Wales to keep out the Welsh hordes. And then there’s the 7-foot privacy fence we put up in our back yard this summer, to keep out the neighborhood hordes. And if I asked for a show of hands here today, I bet most of you would have to admit you have a fence in your yard, whether you need it or not. We just like our walls. We like our space. We like to control our own territory.
Jericho was a city famous for its walls. Every one of us learned the song as kids: “Joshua fought the battle of Jericho, and the walls came tumbling down.” Now that I’m older, I don’t have the same easy view I did as a child of that story. I don’t know that I understand all of the complexities of the situation; I don’t know that I can explain the violence of what happened there. But something there was that didn’t love that wall around Jericho. God wanted to show his people entering that promised land that walls might keep out men, they might keep out an army—and the people living inside might feel safe, self-sufficient, in charge of their own fates. But walls crumble before the will of God, and the wall around Jericho didn’t stand a chance before him. Joshua’s army didn’t even have to touch the walls. They just obeyed God, marched around the city, blew their horns, and the walls came down.
God has this thing about knocking down walls. Walls bother him, for some reason. So hundreds of years after Joshua marched around the walls of Jericho, another Joshua, God himself in human flesh, visited Jericho and knocked down another kind of wall. Zaccheus, that wee little man from another childhood song, lived in Jericho, and he had built a great big wall in his life. Like most walls, it was about keeping some things out and some things in, about reassuring himself of his own power and control. His wall wasn’t made of brick and mortar, though. Zaccheus had walled up his heart. He had convinced himself that things were more important than people and that being rich was more valuable than being righteous. But maybe because he felt safe inside his wall or maybe because his wall was starting to crumble, he climbed up in that tree to see Jesus—Joshua, in Hebrew—when the Teacher came to town. Jesus saw the man hiding safe and self-satisfied behind his wall, and he knocked the wall right down. Zaccheus’ barriers collapsed: all the barriers he’d built between himself and others, and between himself and God. He invited Jesus inside his house, but more importantly, he let him inside his life. He went from being a guy who keeps people out to a guy who lets people in.
That’s what God does. Walls bother him. And they’re not part of his original plan: there were no walls in Eden—just God walking with his people who were caring for and cultivating his creation, plants, animals, the world itself. If you think about it, the first consequence of the fall was the building of a wall: they realized their nakedness, their vulnerability, and they sought to hide it, to separate themselves from God. The story of much of the rest of human history is a story of walls. But one moment changed all that—a moment whose season we’re preparing to celebrate. It was a moment of the tearing down of all walls, a moment when the barrier between spirit and flesh, Jew and Gentile, male and female, God and human—a moment when all of these walls collapsed before God. Paul admits as much when he says to the Ephesians, “For Christ himself is our peace, who has made us one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility.”
We build walls, but God destroys them. We’re sitting here now, about to take communion, but most of us are still sitting behind walls. The word “communion” means to commune, to share, to communicate. You can’t truly do that from behind a wall. As we eat this bread and drink this wine, let’s remember the story of walls, let’s let Jesus inside, and let each other inside. Something there is that doesn’t love a wall. That “something” is God.
AlGuy, I, too repent. It’s fun (wicked fun, though) to tweak someone who starts out playing the “I shall correct you rabble” card but then so obviously isn’t up for it…
In the spirit of Christian unity, Troy, I must say that your most recent post worries me. You’ve told us you have a weapon and that you intend to end it all in the morning. Please, reconsider this rash threat you’ve made against yourself…
Alguy,
I never said Mike doesn’t allow differing views.In fairness to him he rarely responds and when he does it’s in a kind way.
But let’s examine some of the kind and loving words or phrases addressed to Troy:
-feeble
-blind
-Ignore the sniping of a few others
-poisonous
-Why don’t you start your own blog and rant there
-The crap is on your doorstep
-odious
-offensive
-Troy, it’s clear you win the prize. I’m sure you’ll be raptured right away. Indeed, many of us are counting on it…
-I’m nauseatedly disinterested in more of the same
And so on.
Don’t pretend anyone here cares what he has to say. One thing we agree on though. Highland has the right to conduct themselves as they see fit. I think Troy is wasting a great deal of time and energy arguing back and forth. Come to think of it so am I.
Enjoy yourselves.
gt, you’re right. I’ve already acknoweledged that we’ve ganged up on Troy in an un-Christian way, and I’ve apologized. But don’t, please, try to cast Troy as some kind of martyr for the sake of the gospel. You listed the uncharitable things said ABOUT Troy, with no mention of the uncharitable things said BY Troy. Be fair, if you’re going to be anything.
Someone, I did ignore your apology and for that I’m sorry. After I typed those words earlier I did reflect on the tone of Troy’s comments and realized that this is a two way street.
Since Troy is one of the few voices here that espouse a different point of view it’s easy to ignore his sometimes harsh tone. Or mine. I sincerely apologize for my blunt comments.
Troy, I too am making my last comment.
I have just recently begun reading Mike’s blog. I thought that the devotional meditation was very good. Unfortunately, I believe it has been tainted somewhat by the conversation about it. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, so I may be naive, but in my experience when people write devotional thoughts they come out of prayerful thought and consideration, as well as from something that God has placed on their heart. We all cannot place ourselves in the same place as the writer when we read their words. Because of that, we tend to put meaning where meaning isn’t meant to be and we judge the writer. It seems that Sherry had a struggle to even present the thoughts Mike has shared with us on his blog, and it seems as though we focus on our misplaced interpretations to judge her.
Sherry, your message was an important one for me to hear. I am so thankful that God loves us despite our faults and sin, and although we as humans like to be accepted in the end God’s acceptance of us through Christ as His children is all that truly matters.
What did I say that was harsh? Can I not question the intentions of those who have admitted that their actions are a source of division?
As far as my communion contemplation, here goes:
Why such an elaborate plan? Couldn’t God just say the word and the walls of Jericho would crumble? Instead, God put into motion an elaborate plan to bring down the walls of the city. The plan involved marching around the city, trumpets of rams’ horns, the carrying of the ark of the Lord, and a loud shout to bring down the city walls. All of this was to be done in a specific order according to the specific plan of God. When it was finished, the walls lay in ruins, and the plan of God was fulfilled.
There was another wall, although not a grand as that of Jericho, that an elaborate plan of God brought down. This plan was in the works for thousands of years. It involved a promise, a virgin birth, a ministry, and a Messiah. The plan culminated in an accusation, trials, beatings, a crucifixion, a trembling of the earth, and burial. On the third day, the wall, made complete with a single stone, was once and for all breached. This time it wasn’t a city that was conquered, but death itself.
What we’re about to do is remember the one who breached that final wall and conquered death on our behalf. Why such an elaborate plan? Because an elaborate love deserves no less.
Adios.
Write on, Sherry–or is that Right on?
Troy, many things that you said yesterday were harsh; I think you know what they were. And of course you have your right to freedom of speech, which entitles you to question or say anything, although you should not be surprised if people react harshly to your harsh tone. It’s not fair (or mature) to ignore the Golden Rule yourself but cry “foul” when anyone else does it to you.
As for your communion thoughts, I think they are lovely, and I could certainly say the “amen” to them. They do not answer all the questions or deal with all the problems you’ve pointed out in past comments, but then again, neither did mine; and as perhaps you discovered when you wrote them, communion thoughts are not designed to cover all possible doctrinal bases.
I think that those whom you have alienated will be inclined to pick apart your communion thoughts and assign them uncharitable motives, because that’s what you did to mine. But I appeal to everyone: let’s show Troy the charity, grace and love he deserves as a brother in Christ, whether or not he has been willing or able to do the same for others.
After all, that’s what knocking down walls is all about, right?
I, personally, think Troy and Sherry’s meditations harmonize nicely. They each express facets of Greek Orthodoxy (themes generally lost in Protestant churches) concerning the work of the Christ. Sherry focuses on the salvific features of the Incarnation and Troy on Christus Victor.
yeah, uh, that’s right–that was the plan all along, to express facets of Greek orthodoxy…Ha! Thanks for making me sound WAY smarter than I am, Richard…:-)
Sherry you’re a hoot. You know what can make you feel dumb? I’ll tell you. Going to see Beowulf with three English Professors…
EVERYONE who went to THAT version of Beowulf felt dumb. Can’t believe I paid 10 bucks to watch a cartoon butcher one of the classics…
Sherry, I loved your communion thoughts. I think many (if not all) of us struggle with the reflex to take the reflections of others and critique them, instead of internalizing them. However, I think this keeps us from doing the real work of self-reflection. I admit, that focusing on the literal and finding points of disagreement are a comfort zone that keep me from really digging into my life and seeing all the areas where God is trying to come in and help me to grow. Sometimes though, for whatever reason, we just let something in. Your reflections did that for me. I read your blog and thought about all of the walls that I have built between God and myself, myself and others. My anger with God after watching a friend suffer and die of cancer. The wall that exists between my non-believing family and myself. The walls I pictured were not made of brick, or stone, but of pride, selfishness, and flesh. Sherry, I am a master wall builder! Thank you for reminding me that Christ is a master at tearing them down!
May God bless you and your husband as you minister in the Kingdom as one!
Richard – Don’t forgot that there were five of us. I noticed you didn’t mention that I made you feel dumb. I was just afraid they’d break out into old English. (You may recall that when I even joked about it, they were all able to do it!)
Mike,
I was going to mention you were there but you have a reputation to keep up and I didn’t want thousands of people to know about the kind of people you hang out with. Shoot, even I was embarrassed to be seen in public with them.
Thanks, guys…you sure know how to make a girl feel special…:-)
Sherry,
Beautiful meditation. I also really appreciated all your comments to this post. I admire your courage. I grew up in “the church” (whatever that means), but not a church of Christ. So, my early training conditioned me very different from that of “traditional” cofc. I do currently attend cofc and we love our church family but I often feel sort of stifled. I have no desire to be up at the pulpit for anything (speaking in front of people terrifies me) but I do wish that women (in my particular congregation) weren’t pigeon holed into teaching Sunday school for elementary age kids. I often feel I can’t say how I really feel on an issue because I worry that others in my congregation will judge me (this has happened in the past). I know I should be focused on how God sees me and not worry so much what others think. I’m working on that. But all that to say, it was very encouraging to read your words! Thank you!
TMC, comments like yours make all the flak worth while. Thanks.
I don’t want to pile on, Troy, but consider this statement of yours: “I do have a secret weapon, sharper than any double-edged sword.”
The repeated witness of scripture is that this is God’s weapon that he uses on you (and me). Maybe you need to re-orient yourself and contemplate anew who should be wielding the sword.
Troy: I disagree with just about everything you said prior to your last post, and believe you were harsh and unfair to Sherry. Having said that, I appreciate your “communion contemplation”. Your words are encouraging to me and I can’t find anything in them that I would pick apart (even if I wanted to, which I do not). So I’ll join Sherry in saying “amen”.
P.S. I just posted as “Mark” above, but there’s at least one other “Mark” running around here and I don’t want there to be any confusion. And anonymity is overrated anyway.