The Old Stone House
Sermon text for September 30, 2007:
Luke 13:22-30
The old stone house stood at the edge of the woods, where the new highway crossed the country lane. Almost everyone who passed by noticed the house because of its unique design and careful construction. The old woman who lived there busied herself keeping the house in good condition, tending her flower garden and visiting with friends. Everyday when the old woman finished her chores she sat in her rocking chair on the front porch and smiled and waved to the people who whizzed by in cars on the new highway.
Often as she watched the people speeding by the old woman thought to herself, “The people on the highway seem frantic to get wherever they are going. I hope that they get there. Maybe if they see me waving, the day will seem a little less frantic.” Sometimes she would sigh and say to herself, “I wish that some of them would stop by for a chat. I’d love to get to know them better.” But most of the motorists were much too busy and the faster they drove, the longer it took them to get where they were going.
It wasn’t that the old woman was lonely, she had a lot of good friends, but she was never happier than when her house was full and people were having a good time. In time, more and more people noticed the old woman and many began to return the woman’s wave as they rushed by. For many it became a ritual. People looked for the woman and waved, and the woman waved back. Many of the motorists even began to think of the old woman as a friend, but only rarely did anyone stop.
Every now and again someone walking on the country lane would pause, lean on the low stone wall that surrounded her property, and call to her across the yard. Sometimes they would join her on the porch for refreshments, but more often they would chat from a distance. Usually they went away from these encounters feeling special, and they resolved to come back again for another talk. Everyone who stopped long enough, knew that there was a standing invitation to join the old woman on the porch for conversation and refreshment. She had a comfortable swing hanging from the ceiling and guests would often swing gently while they and the old woman rocked and talked. Everyone who took the time to sit with the old woman said they’d like to come back again. But in truth most didn’t make it very often. Life was always hectic, there was too much to do, and so little time in which to do it. So for the most part, the woman rocked alone.
Years passed, and stories were told far and wide of the old woman with the inviting smile, and the friendly wave. Even people who had never been past her house told stories of the kindly woman who even invited strangers to rest on her porch, to swing and to talk. Many people who heard the stories felt great affection for the old woman whom they had never met. Some tried to imagine what she was like.
One day the people walking on the path noticed that the woman was not in her usual spot on the porch. The swing was gone, the rocking chair was empty. Those who had grown accustomed to waving at the woman or leaning on the low stone wall for conversation missed her. Eventually some of them found the gate in the wall and went to the house looking for her. They hoped to see her one last time. To their surprise as they approached the house they heard the most beautiful music imaginable coming from somewhere inside. It was wonderful, enticing music which mingled with the joyous sounds of laughter and merriment. Listening on the porch they remembered all of the times they said, “Someday I’m going to stop and get to know that wonderful woman.” Now they had to know the woman with the inviting smile and the friendly wave. They knocked on the door and pressed their noses against the windows. Inside the house they saw lots of people like themselves. But no one opened the door to let them in.
Finally the woman with the inviting smile opened the little window in the door. She looked at the people crowding on her porch and spilling out into the front yard. “Can we come in to the party?” they asked. “I’m sorry” said the woman, still smiling, “This party is just for my friends.”
“But we are your friends” they said feeling a little sense of desperation. “Don’t you remember how we waved when we drove by? Don’t you remember when we used to lean on the wall and talk while you were up her on the porch? We always thought we were friends.”
“I’m sorry” said the woman, “but we don’t really know each other do we?”
As Jesus was making his final journey into Jerusalem, he traveled through many towns and villages teaching, healing, and caring for the people. One day someone in the crowd asked, “Lord, are only a few people going to be saved?” This was a key question on many peoples’ minds. They wanted assurance and Jesus could have made them very happy by simply saying what everyone wanted to believe. “You know the answer, all of us who are children of Abraham will be saved.” But he did not do that. He knew that some of the people in the crowd were complacent about their faith. They took their relationship with God for granted. To them God was always there, always smiling, always benevolent. They attended to their rituals, acknowledged God’s presence, and sought God’s favor. What more could there be?
But Jesus was never satisfied with faith by the numbers. And he told the parable we read this morning to create a sense of urgency within those with the courage to listen to the message. He refused to guarantee that all Jews would be saved, even those he had just healed. He understood that when believers were given complete assurance only the most motivated would continue to grow. And so he said, “If you want salvation, work on it. Strive to enter by the narrow door, and get there before the door is shut.”
This is one of those passages that I wish was not there. It frightens some and offends others. But it also challenges us to be honest about our friendship with Jesus. In the parable, Jesus says that people will be shocked when the doors are shut and they are left outside. They are shocked because they have not been honest with themselves. They even try to hide their dishonesty as they protest, “We ate with you and you taught in our streets.” But their protest is a cover-up. Being near when bread is broken or when the word is preached does not imply a relationship. And so Jesus confirms their worst fear when he says, “But we are not really friends are we.”
Friends let us seek that narrow door, let us take the time to stop at God’s house, sit on the porch, swing on the swing, and get to know God so that we can be counted among the friends of God when the party begins.
Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock
Luke 13:22-30
The old stone house stood at the edge of the woods, where the new highway crossed the country lane. Almost everyone who passed by noticed the house because of its unique design and careful construction. The old woman who lived there busied herself keeping the house in good condition, tending her flower garden and visiting with friends. Everyday when the old woman finished her chores she sat in her rocking chair on the front porch and smiled and waved to the people who whizzed by in cars on the new highway.
Often as she watched the people speeding by the old woman thought to herself, “The people on the highway seem frantic to get wherever they are going. I hope that they get there. Maybe if they see me waving, the day will seem a little less frantic.” Sometimes she would sigh and say to herself, “I wish that some of them would stop by for a chat. I’d love to get to know them better.” But most of the motorists were much too busy and the faster they drove, the longer it took them to get where they were going.
It wasn’t that the old woman was lonely, she had a lot of good friends, but she was never happier than when her house was full and people were having a good time. In time, more and more people noticed the old woman and many began to return the woman’s wave as they rushed by. For many it became a ritual. People looked for the woman and waved, and the woman waved back. Many of the motorists even began to think of the old woman as a friend, but only rarely did anyone stop.
Every now and again someone walking on the country lane would pause, lean on the low stone wall that surrounded her property, and call to her across the yard. Sometimes they would join her on the porch for refreshments, but more often they would chat from a distance. Usually they went away from these encounters feeling special, and they resolved to come back again for another talk. Everyone who stopped long enough, knew that there was a standing invitation to join the old woman on the porch for conversation and refreshment. She had a comfortable swing hanging from the ceiling and guests would often swing gently while they and the old woman rocked and talked. Everyone who took the time to sit with the old woman said they’d like to come back again. But in truth most didn’t make it very often. Life was always hectic, there was too much to do, and so little time in which to do it. So for the most part, the woman rocked alone.
Years passed, and stories were told far and wide of the old woman with the inviting smile, and the friendly wave. Even people who had never been past her house told stories of the kindly woman who even invited strangers to rest on her porch, to swing and to talk. Many people who heard the stories felt great affection for the old woman whom they had never met. Some tried to imagine what she was like.
One day the people walking on the path noticed that the woman was not in her usual spot on the porch. The swing was gone, the rocking chair was empty. Those who had grown accustomed to waving at the woman or leaning on the low stone wall for conversation missed her. Eventually some of them found the gate in the wall and went to the house looking for her. They hoped to see her one last time. To their surprise as they approached the house they heard the most beautiful music imaginable coming from somewhere inside. It was wonderful, enticing music which mingled with the joyous sounds of laughter and merriment. Listening on the porch they remembered all of the times they said, “Someday I’m going to stop and get to know that wonderful woman.” Now they had to know the woman with the inviting smile and the friendly wave. They knocked on the door and pressed their noses against the windows. Inside the house they saw lots of people like themselves. But no one opened the door to let them in.
Finally the woman with the inviting smile opened the little window in the door. She looked at the people crowding on her porch and spilling out into the front yard. “Can we come in to the party?” they asked. “I’m sorry” said the woman, still smiling, “This party is just for my friends.”
“But we are your friends” they said feeling a little sense of desperation. “Don’t you remember how we waved when we drove by? Don’t you remember when we used to lean on the wall and talk while you were up her on the porch? We always thought we were friends.”
“I’m sorry” said the woman, “but we don’t really know each other do we?”
As Jesus was making his final journey into Jerusalem, he traveled through many towns and villages teaching, healing, and caring for the people. One day someone in the crowd asked, “Lord, are only a few people going to be saved?” This was a key question on many peoples’ minds. They wanted assurance and Jesus could have made them very happy by simply saying what everyone wanted to believe. “You know the answer, all of us who are children of Abraham will be saved.” But he did not do that. He knew that some of the people in the crowd were complacent about their faith. They took their relationship with God for granted. To them God was always there, always smiling, always benevolent. They attended to their rituals, acknowledged God’s presence, and sought God’s favor. What more could there be?
But Jesus was never satisfied with faith by the numbers. And he told the parable we read this morning to create a sense of urgency within those with the courage to listen to the message. He refused to guarantee that all Jews would be saved, even those he had just healed. He understood that when believers were given complete assurance only the most motivated would continue to grow. And so he said, “If you want salvation, work on it. Strive to enter by the narrow door, and get there before the door is shut.”
This is one of those passages that I wish was not there. It frightens some and offends others. But it also challenges us to be honest about our friendship with Jesus. In the parable, Jesus says that people will be shocked when the doors are shut and they are left outside. They are shocked because they have not been honest with themselves. They even try to hide their dishonesty as they protest, “We ate with you and you taught in our streets.” But their protest is a cover-up. Being near when bread is broken or when the word is preached does not imply a relationship. And so Jesus confirms their worst fear when he says, “But we are not really friends are we.”
Friends let us seek that narrow door, let us take the time to stop at God’s house, sit on the porch, swing on the swing, and get to know God so that we can be counted among the friends of God when the party begins.
Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock
posted by Dwight Blackstock | 6:17 AM
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