4 Stones to Drop this Lent
I have a confession to make. Whenever I am on an excursion in the mountains with loved ones, I steal rocks. State parks or national parks, you name it. I know it’s actually illegal in national parks and we’re not supposed to leave behind or take anything from these parks. I just get lost in the moment. And I’m certainly not advocating the stealing of rocks. Imagining that some of these rocks are pieces of bigger rocks, of boulders that could be 500 million to a billion or more years old draws me to them. I like to feel their weight in my hand, then in my pocket. I usually take one or two on a trip, then I add them to my collection on our kitchen table. These serve as reminders of the places we have walked and our connection with people who have walked there before us. These rocks, or stones, are small and multicolored. While they call to mind the vastness and variety of God’s creation, I usually consider their beauty, their usefulness for building, remnants of much greater realities in our vast universe.
Holding a stone in my hand, I rarely consider it as a means to cause harm. I don’t normally consider a stone’s morbid purpose as an instrument of punishment, for example. Yet, when reading John’s Gospel 8:1-11, I can’t help but wonder what it was like to choose a stone for the sole intention of stoning a person, say a woman caught in adultery in first century Palestine. Even Joseph, Jesus’ father, refused to hand Mary over to be stoned when she admitted her pregnancy, but instead thought of divorcing her quietly. In the case of the woman in John’s Gospel, Mosaic Law determined that any married woman caught in the act of adultery should be stoned to death. The law also included the man, but in the story in the Gospel of John, no mention is made of anyone except the woman. We can only imagine the circumstances: a merciless husband sets up witnesses to see the actual transgression in progress, a woman is forced against her will to perform a sexual act and is caught, or possibly a woman is convinced the man cares for her. Regardless of the circumstances, these men drag this poor woman, without any means of defense, out into public in front of Jesus.
What were their intentions? Many biblical scholars say that these scribes and Pharisees were trying to set a trap for Jesus, to make him either defy Rome by instructing them to stone her, or to defy Moses whose law states she should be stoned. As per usual, Jesus adeptly responds in a way that challenges these temple leaders without falling into their trap. He, in effect, goes underneath the issue, to the heart of the matter.
While these men obsessed over the sexual nature of the crime and the woman’s indescretion, Jesus shines a light on the true nature of their hearts and intentions. He traces his finger on the ground (this action was perhaps a sign of indifference or disappointment in the proceedings, according to the biblical commentary, Sacra Pagina, or considered a common behavior among Mediterranean peasants when under distress, according to biblical scholar, John Pilck). Jesus then stands facing the accusers and says to them, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” (John 8:11) Then, beginning with the elders, one by one they dropped their stones and walked away. Every man standing there dropped his stone. Thud.
Could I have dropped it?
I wonder how many stones I refuse to drop from my hand or pocket. Why is anything placed in a pocket? We are saving it for when it’s needed at a later time. We aren’t ready to let it go. And, by stones, I mean those things I cling to for fear that I may need them in the future for protection. From what do I need to protect myself? Often, without realizing it, I place stones in my pocket to shield myself from hurt. In effect, the stones begin to form a barrier, a wall behind which I can safely hide any vulnerability.
These are the stones I often hold onto:
Grudges. We don’t often consider grudges a big deal, or that we even hold them in the first place. I predict we carry them more often than we think. In a passive-aggressive way, we can allow a grudge to ferment and overshadow our interactions going forward. What grudges do I hold in my hand, as weighty as stones, just in case I must interact with the person who slighted me? When I was a principal and a parent yelled at me or sometimes rudely questioned my authority, either in person or over the phone, I held grudges against them. I held these grudges especially if they were friends of mine who never apologized. In some cases, they were in the wrong, and in other cases, I was wrong. Usually, though, it was a bit of both. Now, over four years later, I still sometimes grasp these stones whenever I see these parents at church or the grocery store. It usually results in awkward interactions and averted gazes. It might be time to finally drop these stones.
Fear. “What fear?” you may ask. Underneath a need for control over what I may deem the most essential things in my life and in my faith, I fear uncertainty. In particular, I fear the uncertainty that comes with complexity. In other words, I may think I need certainty in belief in order to move forward on solid ground. Yet, when I admit the complexity of most issues, I sometimes feel like I can’t move at all. In reality, it is as if the rug has been pulled out from under my feet, as Fr. Regis Duffy, OFM (d. 2006), my undergraduate theology professor explained during a class on the Eucharist in 1993. I will never forget his use of this metaphor. He taught that when we thought we had it all together, all figured out that actually we were just beginning to understand the mysteries of God and the complexities of matters of faith. We kid ourselves into thinking we can find certainty in every aspect of our lives and faith. Yet, in our participation together in the Eucharist as we trust in God’s providence, we can step ahead knowing that, no matter how many times we trip or fall, we are not expected to figure it out alone. God guides our steps, one at a time.
What stones of fear do I hold onto when I am uncertain in a situation or expect the worst? On a subconscious level, below the surface, fears can drive our actions without us knowing it. In light of our political climate, fear-driven discourse can lead to imprudent decisions that blind us to real intentions. Even within our Church, fear drives our dialogue about many life issues. Obsession over a single issue can keep us off-balance and lacking clarity for the greater good of our communities. At times, this leads to abandonment of other discussions needed about protection of the most vulnerable during a pandemic or children who are abused, neglected, or living in poverty. By dropping our stones of fear, we can enter into a both/and worldview, instead of the black/white rigidity of fear-driven actions. We can realize that dignity of life includes all life, all people, not just a select group.
Disdain. I often hold onto stones of contempt for those who don’t think as I do, look as I do, or who lack resources to improve their lives. I realize that these prejudices have been with me most of my life, but until I begin to “drop” my disdain for others, I will never encounter them. I admit my struggle to drop these stones. If I do, then I might have to admit that I am wrong or misinformed. Jesus, though, constantly dropped these stones. While all others disdained the Samaritans in his day, he had an encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4:7-39). By encounter, I mean that he addressed her, spoke to her and listened to her. He formed a relationship with this unaccompanied woman (shameful) and told her everything about her life and what was in her heart. His disciples did not understand nor approve of this conversation. Yet, here we are, challenged even now to interact with those who might make us uncomfortable, confusing our deeply held notions of what is proper or correct. Called to listen to their stories, we are encouraged to open our hearts to them in an encounter of love. Today, for example, the brown-skinned woman who brings herself and her children to our border without any means or plan has a story and a history. As a basic human right, she is seeking a better life for herself and her children. If I truly believe in the life and dignity of all people, I am called to honor the life and dignity of every family. There is not just one easy solution to this complex issue, but there are solutions available if we are willing to listen and work together.
Judgment. I can’t see myself clearly because of the log in my own eye and all I can see is the speck in someone else’s eye (Luke 6:37-42)! How often is this the case? Every day I judge others, in big and small ways, some harmless but others harmful. Is someone too “liberal” or “conservative?” How many assumptions do we make when faced with someone who thinks differently or opposes our own views? Maybe it’s someone who doesn’t speak well, or who rarely speaks. Or maybe it’s someone who speaks exceptionally well but manipulates the facts. Maybe it’s someone with body odor, ragged clothing, or who exhibits mental illness. Of course we need to practice sound judgment every day of our lives, but it often requires that we take a step back to take in the bigger picture, to listen well but to take care who we listen to. As far as the log in my own eye, I can pray God helps me to see it so I stop pretending I am never wrong.
The Stones Drop
When Jesus looks up a second time, after all the accusers have dropped their stones and walked away, he looks directly at the woman. “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, sir.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.” He gently addresses her and frees her from sin. By his love and mercy, this woman encounters Christ. Jesus desires for this woman to turn her whole heart toward God. He gives her freedom to return to her true self as God created her to be. With compassion, he enters into a relationship with her and redeems her. Might we allow Jesus to do the same with us? By focusing on love, mercy and reconciliation with our sisters and brothers maybe we, too, can learn compassion and forgiveness.
All of these “stones” line our pockets. If I desire to grow in my relationship with God, to encounter God’s love, which stones am I willing to drop? It may take time, but eventually with God’s help I can begin to drop these stones, one at a time. My pockets may never be completely empty but I am a work in progress, after all!
Please read my original poem, Stones, for contemplation. Writing this poem helped me to process my own struggle to let go and led to this blog.
Stones by Jane Feliz Rush
Stone in hand.
Comfortable, smooth even, with some weight.
It can hurt, if thrown with force.
I often walk with a stone in hand.
How else can I process?
How else can I face that which I abhor?
At the ready, cold smooth stone in hand.
Reader of hearts, of souls,
You know, have always known
our motives, our fears,
our defenses, need for control.
“Let the one among you who is without sin
be the first to throw a stone at her.”
I catch my breath.
I am not that person.
But I don’t want to drop it.
The stone in my hand.
I may just take it with me.
Yes, for another day.
Maybe I’ll use it then.
Thud. Again.
Thud.
Thud.
Hey you might need that!
Scapegoats.
So easy to find one.
Then I don’t have to look, to see,
the utter lack of forgiveness
in my heart.
Thud.
Thud.
If I forgive - but I don’t want to.
So uncomfortable, so revealing, so naked.
You hurt me.
You hurt me a lot.
How dare you hurt me.
I am a child of God and you didn’t see that,
for Christ’s sake.
This stone, so smooth, so comfortable.
“Let the one among you who is without sin…”
But I am a sinner.
So you’re telling me that I ought not to use it.
The stone.
In my hand. At the ready.
How else can my voice be heard?
How else can I call out the darkness?
Thud.
Thud.
More.
She slept with that guy -
I’ve never done THAT!
Thud.
Here it is - take it.
But if I drop it,
Then what - then how -
Where does it go?
This stone - smooth, cool, comfortable
in my hand.
How about my pocket?
Call to Action: In the comments below, name a stone you’d like to try to drop. This may be different from what I outlined above.
Song for Contemplation: “I Shall Not Want” sung by Audrey Assad, written by Audrey Assad and Bryan Brown. This prayerful song expresses a desire for deliverance from our fears and trust in God.
