12 stones.

There was nothing notable about them except for where they came from and what they represented.  But because of those two distinct characteristics, they became more than just a pile of 12 stones. The nation of Israel had seen some pretty amazing things on their journey from slavery in Egypt to freedom in Canaan.  Water from a rock, enemies washed away by the wall of water that had spared them, quail literally walking into their campground and jumping on the Coleman grills.  Edible dew?  Umm, yeah.  God provided that, too.  And now, on the verge of entering the land God had promised them, twelve unassuming rocks found themselves forever changed.

When the whole nation had finished crossing the Jordan, the LORD said to Joshua, “Choose twelve men from among the people, one from each tribe, and tell them to take up twelve stones from the middle of the Jordan, from right where the priests are standing, and carry them over with you and put them down at the place where you stay tonight.” (Joshua 4:1-3)

Not just 12 stones from anywhere, but 12 stones from the very center of the miracle that brought them into the promise.  And they didn’t represent just anything.  They represented the faithfulness of God, the power of God, and the worthiness of God.  On that day, 12 stones became a memorial, a conversation starter, a teaching point.

In the future, when your children ask you, ‘What do these stones mean?’ tell them that the flow of the Jordan was cut off before the ark of the covenant of the LORD. (Joshua 4:6-7)

I don’t know how long the conversation continued, but apparently, at some point, the kids quit asking and the parents quit telling.  Judges 2:10 tells of an entire generation that grew up not knowing the Lord or what He had done for Israel.  It seems that it wasn’t too far removed from the one that piled the stones, and my guess is that this uninformed generation threw memorials away like we throw away keepsakes in the attic of houses we purchase.  It’s not even that we’re trying to be disrespectful.  We just don’t know where those keepsakes came from and what they represent.  Can you picture it?  A couple of kids going down to the Jordan to fish with their fathers and finding a curious pile of rocks along the bank.  They eye one, studying it, running their fingers along the edge.  It’s smooth, the rough edges worn away from years in the middle of the Jordan, and a smile creeps onto the faces of the boys as they realize these stones would be perfect for making a huge splash in the river.

I’d imagine that if one of the men who had carried that stone would have stumbled onto that scene, he’d have been pretty upset about how that memorial had been treated so casually, carelessly.  And yet, he would have had only himself to blame.

What turns a memorial into a misunderstood piece of junk?  The failure of one generation to pass on to the next what makes the stones significant.

Isn’t that what has turned Memorial Day into a long week-end filled with pools, backyard BBQs, and really long auto races?  There’s certainly nothing wrong with any of those things (unless I’m the one doing the grilling), but who are we to lament the loss of our nation’s patriotism when we’ve done nothing to pass on the significance – the story – of those we honor today.

Show me a nation, a church, an organization, or a family without a story, and I’ll show you people skipping memorial stones in a river.  Show them what they’ve really got in their hands and they may very well respond differently.  Perhaps, in this post-religious culture we find ourselves in, it’s time to help those around us rediscover the stories of a God Who delivers, protects, and is worthy of our devotion.  Maybe, just maybe, we can tell them where the stones came from and what they mean.  We might find that they’ll turn from skipping stones to rebuilding a memorial.  Need proof?  Read 2 Chronicles 34 to see what a godless generation did when they rediscovered God’s story that had been silent for years.

Stories are important because they pass along the significance of what God has done, and they fill us with hope for what he will do.

They also turn a pile of rocks into an altar of stones.