The following is the text of the sermon preached Saturday, July
5, by Glenn Mitchell. The text was submitted to the Annual
Conference Office in mid-June and may have been modified for the
actual presentation.  

Glenn Mitchell 
Focus: Count Well the Cost of Peace 
Title: "What the Stones Know" 
Scripture: Luke 19:37-42  

1997 Church of the Brethren Annual Conference Long Beach,
California 
July 5, 1997   


I have always had a certain affinity for stones. I love the feel
of a smooth stone in the hand. I like the heft of a large river
stone. I like the reminder of a small stone in the pocket. As a
kid, I was outside every chance I got and often would have a
stone in my hands or one bouncing down the street in front of my
feet. Stones and water were a favorite mix. How many times can
this flat stone defy gravity and skip up from the surface before
the water finally claims it? How many ripples will flow from the
"kerplunk" of this stone before the surface of the pond, returns
to glass? On the ancient mountains of central Pennsylvania, where
I grew up and live, under the tall oaks, are lots of stones, as
anyone who has tried to hike there can testify. As a youth I
loved to crawl up in among the huge boulders overlooking tile
valley and hold the view to my eyes and my life to God. Among
those rocks I came to clarity on love; among those rocks I
wrestled with God's call to ministry. Yes, I am drawn to stones.
i'm not alone in this connection. The Bible itself is rich in its
use of stones as metaphor. Psalm 62: "God alone is my rock and my
salvation.." And that wonderful invitation in Psalm 61 in the
King James version: "From the end of the earth will I cry unto
thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is
higher than I." In the New Testament, Jesus is the corner stone
rejected by the builders. In I Peter, Jesus is the living stone
inviting his followers to be the living stones of a spiritual
house. Given the richness of the tradition it is not surprising
that Jesus would draw on the image of stones in our passage from
Luke's Gospel.    
   In our text, Jesus is entering Jerusalem. Jesus is heading
into his week of passion. His face is set. There is no turning
now. He's seeing clearly. He is stepping deliberately. He is
riding the Messiah's donkey. The people have their understanding
of what they see. Jesus meets their hopes and they cry out:
"Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the, Lord! Peace in
heaven and glory in the highest heaven!" The religious leaders
are nervous. They smell trouble and they turn to Jesus to silence
his followers. Jesus responds with the line that turned my head
to this sermon: "I tell you, if these were silent, the stones
would shout out."     
   Don't you wish the crowds would have suddenly fallen silent so
the stones could speak? What did the stones know that the
Pharisees didn't? No sooner are the words out of his  mouth than
Jesus crests the hill and sees Jerusalem stretched out before
him, and he weeps. He weeps over the city and says, "If you, even
you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for
peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes."    
   How many times have you heard these words of Jesus for
Jerusalem and felt glad you were counted among the Brethren,
counted among those -who know what makes for peace? It is our
heritage. It is part of our gift, our calling as a people. It is
our angle on Jesus that gives us something to talk about,
something even unique to contribute to the Christian family. Many
dream of peace, and an increasing number of Christians like to
talk about peace, but we Brethren like to do something for peace,
we like the notion of making peace. We know what makes for peace
and we have often done it decisively through the years. God
certainly knows, this world needs peacemakers. But, I wonder if
this time of transition for us as a people -- as we have worked
on so much this week --  I wonder if the close of this century
and the dawning of a new millennium might be a good time for us
to pause long enough on our historic peacemaking path, to ponder
what the stones might know, what the stones might say to us about
what makes for peace?    
   My wife Kimber is a third grade teacher and when her class
begins with circle sharing time in the morning, each child goes
to the basket in the center of the circle and picks out his or
her stone. The children hold those stones for the entire sharing
time and what Kimber and the children have discovered is that
when they are holding the stones the children are better
listeners.    
   There are times when we Brethren get together to struggle with
the issues facing us as a church that I'm glad we don't have
stones in our hands, because I think we might be tempted to use
them for more than a call to listen!    
   Stones cry out to us from their posture of deep listening.
Stones embody the listening of the centuries. They do it so well.
It seems to come natural to them. Stones don't walk out on you in
the middle of a conversation. They don't interrupt or talk back;
they can take most anything you throw their way. They never enter
into judgement, although we've been know as humans to use them in
expressing our own judgements. If the stones were given their
voice on that first Palm Sunday, in addition to words of praise
they might have said something like: "Listen! Listen to the one
coming to your city today. Listen good. Listen deep. Do you hear
his words of peace? His call to love one another? Do you hear the
way he calls to all the children? Do you hear the way he speaks
of a God who welcomes with open arms the prodigal and the
steadfast alike? Listen! Do you hear his passion for healing, his
tendency to forgive? Do you hear how often his words return to
prayer? Listen! If those who were so full of their own words that
Palm Sunday --  words of praise and words of judgement -- had but
listened deeper to the one on the donkey perhaps they would have
known the things that make for peace." Stones call us to listen
well, to listen deep, to the Prince of Peace, to the corner stone
of our faith, to the living stone of our lives.    
   When John Baker in a gift to Juniata College, asked Maya Lin,
the architect of the Vietnam War Memorial, to design a peace
chapel for the college, she set into the top of a hill
overlooking the college, a circle of 53 rough cut granite stones.
>From a distance you can't even see them, but when you step into
that circle you step into a landscape of peace. That circle of
stones calls one to listen. It invites the prayerful listening
that connects God and creation, that holds together. The human
condition and the grace of God. What makes for peace is often not
what is large and grandiose.    
   What works best for peace may well be a simple landscape where
peace can be felt, where peace can be experienced in small ways,
where deep listening to God and one another can take place. !s
that not something of what our churches are to be? Circles of
deep listening where peace can be experienced? Let the world see
in the circle of our gathering a people who live what makes for
peace! Let the world see us love one another in our wide
diversity of belief and practice not as a strategy to change each
other over, but in recognition that Christ is our peace. For
peace is finally not our work but God's, peace is the bedrock
creation itself is groaning to return to. Peace is what the
stones know by heart. Peace is a part of every stone that goes
into the house of discipleship we build upon the rock of our
salvation. It is what emerges from our circles of deep listening
to the Prince of peace and to one another.    
   This peace that we live; this peace that emerges from our
circles of deep listening is not other than the peace God intends
for all the world. God told Moses in the fiery address of his
call on Mt Horeb: "I have heard the cry of my people in Egypt...
and I will send you." and you -- and you -- and you. Are we
listening deeply to our world? Do we hear the cries of the
people? Where is God calling us to be those who know what makes
for peace? And how can we do what we have always done best as
Brethren while maintaining an openness to the new call that may
come to us? How do we persist in offering the cup of cold water,
the confession that all war is sin and the presence of
reconciliation and mediation, while continuing to listen deeply
to God and the world, to hear the need for new ministries of
peace. How are we listening in Eastern Europe? How are we
listening in North Korea? How are we listening in Palestine? What
do we offer our brothers and sisters in Nigeria who are
struggling with issues of conflict and peace with their Muslim
neighbors? In the 21st century how will Brethren peacemakers
takes the stones of hate and return them into circles of peace?
How will we become the living stones of the Prince of Peace?    
   There is a rather obscure passage in Revelation 2:17 that I
want to share with you in closing: "Let anyone who has an car
listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches. To everyone
who conquers I will give some of the hidden manna, and I will
give a white stone, and on the white stone is written a new name
that no one knows except the one who receives it." The stone
represents I think that precious mystery that surrounds our
identity in Christ. And part of that mystery is the way that each
of us is called to live out the peace of Christ. There is indeed
much that we need to be about collectively as a people in the
making of peace, but there is also this very personal and
intimate call that comes to each of us to live out in our way the
Peace of Christ.    
   I have for each of you as you leave this evening a small
stone. These stones are to be to us reminders -- reminders of the
call to listen deep to the Prince of Peace and to the cities of
the world and reminders of Christ's call to each of us to pursue
peace on our own path. May these stones remind us of the mystery
of peace that is given to each of us in our intimacy with the
living stone of our faith. I gathered these stones myself a month
ago, one at a time on the beach at Cape May Point, New Jersey.
The rhythm of picking up these stones became a prayer for me, a
prayer for you. I imaged carrying them across this continent and
distributing them to you on the West Coast and having you
disburse them throughout this land. Carry it in your pocket or
purse, string it from a necklace, place it on the kitchen table,
the bed stand, or in your place of work -- so that you will
encounter it often -- so that you will be reminded often of the
reality in Christ, that what you know makes for peace, is to be
offered to your world. I'm reminded of that prayer of peace
attributed to St. Francis: "Lord, make me an instrument of your
peace." Lord, make us all the living stones of your peace -- no
matter the cost.   


Glenn Mitchell is pastor of University Baptist and Brethren
Church, Boalsburg, Pa.   

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