Interview with a Rock

Sandy Dickson

     It’s always interesting to interview people who are replete with experiences, which often present in those with many years behind them.

     Rocks and stones have been around for a long time. It would be wonderful to have a chat with one of them too. They can certainly lay claim to a lot of years.

     Walking through one of the streets of Israel, I looked at the many stones lying in the field near me along one of the more primitive way fares along well-trodden routes through an ancient city.

     I wondered what they had seen in their many centuries of existence. Surely they had some interesting tales harbored within their stony and stoic appearance.

     I picked one up. It was beige and smooth; about the size of a fist and fit nicely into mine.

     “Hello,” I said. “I bet you have some interesting stories if you could only talk.”

     “I do and I can,” it replied. “No one ever asked me before. What would you like to know?”

      I was shocked. Was I hearing things? I looked at it lying patiently in my hand. There was no one else around. “Ahhh,” I squealed, as I reacted by raising my hand in a sudden movement, half throwing, half dropping it to the ground as I jumped backwards.  I looked around to see if anyone saw me talking to a rock.

     “Ouch. That was a shock. But it didn’t really hurt too much. I’m used to abuse and being walked on. Now do you want to know something or what?”

     I walked to where it had fallen near my feet and as a test, I tentatively asked, “How old are you?”

     “As old as dirt,” it replied.

     I glanced around again. It was a bit embarrassing to be seen talking to an inanimate object. But there was no one around and the sound was definitely coming from the rock.

     I slowly bent over and picked it up again, wrapping my fingers around it.

     “Okay, that’s better,” it said. “Now what else do you want to know?”

     “Well, if you’re as old as dirt, we have a lot to talk about,” I replied. “What was it like to be around during the Bible days?”

    “Do you mean the Old or New Testament days?”

    “Let’s start with the Old, I answered.”

     “Okay. Well, have a seat. I’ve got a lot to say.”

     “Do you mind if I call you Rock?”

     “That sounds sensible to me.”

     “All right Rock, tell me some of your adventures through your existence here.”

     “Well, I was originally taken on the path from Egypt the Jews took when Moses led them toward Israel. 
    "Some of the Jews complained a lot as the months went on, about several things, including the food. I got kicked around a lot and displaced by many feet and carts and I’ve also joined several loads of other rocks for different reasons when we were loaded into ox-drawn carts to be taken to varied places, so I’ve traveled some. Someone picked me up on her way to the Red Sea to use against the Egyptians as a weapon if needed. She was shocked as the waters parted. For a long time after we got to the other side after the Red Sea parted , I was attached to a bag on a donkey too. It was a lot of years before I wound up here in Israel and by the time that happened, Joshua had taken over because Moses died on the way. 
   

     “You’re a good-looking rock and a nice fist-size: easy to hold, but big enough to throw and do some damage.”

     “Yes, I can pack a wallop and I think that’s the reason I’ve gotten into so many adventures. My size is very manageable. I've been dropped; mostly thrown and picked up again by someone else, to be taken along as a handy weapon," Rock explained. I"ve even spent some time in water, which is how I got so smooth. But I washed ashore and got picked up again."

     “What else have you been involved in that I may have heard about?”

     “Okay. Joseph walked over me with his brothers when I was in the land of Canaan and they were on their way to dump him in that well. And then years later when they went to Egypt to buy food during the famine, I saw them again. One of them stepped right on me.”

     “Do you feel like an important rock?”

     “No, I’m just a rock. One of many God made, but no more important than any other one. We all have our purpose.”

     “Have you friends in other rocks?”

     “Sure, I know a lot of other rocks, of course I come from a very large family. Some I don’t see often, others I spend a lot of time being next to, until one of us gets shifted around for some reason, by someone or some thing. I move a little around here, but not much. My location changes a bit with livestock or people, especially in wars when there’s a lot of activity around me. I haven’t been moved to a distant location for quite a while now: a few centuries at least, so I know those in this neighborhood pretty well.”

     “If I carry you around Israel to other places, can you introduce me to some other rocks?”

     “Sure, I wouldn’t mind traveling some again,” he cheerfully answered. “I don’t like being in one place all the time and I haven’t gone anywhere at all in at least several eons, just kicked around by a few sheep.”

     “All right, I’m going to put you in my pocket for now and carry you in there between places, is that okay?”

     “I think so, though I’m not too sure what a pocket is.”

     “They probably didn’t have pockets  in the Bible days when you were last carried by a person, but I’ll show you.”

     With that, I put it in my pocket and moved on. When I get somewhere else with other rocks that look interesting, I’ll let you know.”

     I was to learn later that the rock felt snug and warm against the soft material of the pocket lining, which it found quite comfortable and agreeable.

     A few miles later, I pulled the rock out again. “Do you recognize any of this?”

    “Yes,” it said. “This is where someone picked me up and used me to throw at someone during a stoning. I hit the man right in the ankle and made him limp around for awhile. It made a loud noise when I hit too.  It was my size again. I was good for that sort of thing. I’m afraid I’ve been used in several of those stonings.  It was very p

     “That sounds like a riddle. How can it be so big and important that no one can see it?”

     “I’ll tell you, but not now. First, I want to see some more things. This is very nostalgic for me,” Rock said. “I’m having a good time.”

     Sometimes I kept the rock in my pocket for several hours,  sometimes for days, but it said it didn’t mind the darkness because it was used to being outside all the time and there are many hours of darkness there, just as there are many hours of light. It was just glad to be traveling.

     Once when we were in a particular location, I pulled the rock out again and it started talking.

     “Oh, that big rock is where a famous encampment was hiding from their adversaries during battle. Hey, walk over closer to that smaller rock beneath it,” Rock said. “Now take me around the tree toward the east.  Okay, that’s what I thought. I recognize the landmarks. See that little rock about my size lying by the bigger gray rock? Put me down by it for a minute. I want to check it out.”

     When I did, he said to that rock, “Well, hello, how are you doing? I haven’t seen you in a long time. You been lying around here all this time?”

     It said, “Yeah. I don’t get around much being way out here where there’s not much foot traffic, though I’ve been kicked around through a few battles. It’s okay though. I like it here.”

     Rock said to me, “This is a very important rock,” then, “tell her what you did.”

     “Oh, you mean that one battle with the giant?”

     “Yes, that one.”

     “Oh, well, there was an encampment of soldiers up on the hill and a kid came along and put me in his sling. He slung me around a few times and let me go sailing through the air. Next thing I knew: plunk. I landed right in the middle of someone’s forehead with a loud cracking noise and this big giant named Goliath fell to the ground. I killed him! Everyone was pretty excited about it. And here I sit, still in the same general location.”

     “That’s one of the most popular stories in the Bible,” I said excitedly. “It’s amazing that I got to meet you. I bet no one knows who you are.”

     “No one could,” it said. “We’re all incognito. There are lots of us that have done some pretty important things through time, like the rock upon which Jacob laid his head when he had the dream about Heaven’s ladder, but no one could ever possibly know. We just sit here all over, people walk around and upon us and have no idea, but we don’t care. We’ve been created for a purpose, we fulfill it and that’s just how it is. We weren’t created for our own glory or recognition.”

     “Well, I’m honored to meet you,” I assured it.

      As we moved on, different rocks spoke at Rock’s invitation.

     “I was one of the rocks that was under the feet of Christ’s donkey,” one rock said.

     “I was one of the rocks that the woman kneeled on when she touched the hem of Christ’s garment and asked for her healing,” another said.

      “King Nebuchadnezzar walked over me many times when he was exiled to the field during his seven insane years,” still another said.

     “I was a rock that comprised part of the well for the woman who came for water and talked to Jesus,” offered another. “I heard Him tell her that He was the living water and to go and sin no more.”

      As we walked around, I was astounded at the wonder that no one ever sees or knows as they peruse the streets of Jerusalem and the same holy and infamous places the Old and New Testament people walked.

      I met rocks that had been fled to and rested upon by David during his years of flight from Saul.

     Some larger ones even gave him shelter and refuge because they and dependable.

     Rock said, “We smaller ones might work for some things temporarily, but we change location occasionally and we’re not always around when people need us. Not only that, but the big ones serve as landmarks and often guide the way. I’d never have found that Goliath rock if it hadn’t been for larger ones I saw to guide me to the tree.”

     I understood what Rock meant and began to see rocks in a whole new say. The big rocks are stationery and have witnessed various and awesome classic Biblical events like the departure of Elijah when the chariot of fire whisked him away to the heavens and many others that were mixed in both

     Old and New Testament stories. How exciting that so many of them are still around, though no one could possibly know as they walk those age-old and well-traveled streets and pass the ancient fields.  There were even rocks still lying about that angels had flung at enemies of God’s children.

     The most heart-stopping ones had stories to tell about Jesus, such as those that were present at varied locations to witness His healings or turning meager fish and bread to enough to feed thousands, but especially the one who had said Jesus had walked on it while carrying the cross to Calvary. 

     “I’m amazed that you experienced that glorious event,” I said to that one. “What did it feel like? I added, knowing that was a stupid question.  

      Surprisingly, it said, “It felt extremely heavy. Much more so than anything I had ever experienced when anyone else walked over me, or even when a cart drove over me and they had been doing that for centuries.”

     “Why was that?” I asked. “How could Jesus be heavier than those others? He wasn’t a large man was He? Of course He was carrying that big cross.”

     “No, He wasn’t large and yes, He was carrying the cross,” that rock said. “But He was carrying much more than that. He was carrying the weight of the sins of the world and all the sins that would ever be too.”

     With this, I was overwhelmed and tears sprang to my eyes at the vision that I had not before given this new thought. In an effort to gain my composure, I said to my Rock, “Okay, Rock, this has been more fabulous than I could ever imagine. But now where is that rock that is huge that I can never see?”

     “Oh, that rock. That’s Jesus. He’s called The Rock because He’s always there, even if people can’t physically see Him. He’s a rock-solid refuge and rock-solid comforter. He’s the Son of God.  He’s like some of those rocks you saw that don’t move and never change, like the rocks to which David fled for rest and refuge from his problems and pursuers. They were always there and David knew where and how to find them. Jesus is not going anywhere. He’s a rock too big to cast aside or misplace and He’s dependable. You can always go to Him if you want to because you know where to find Him. I myself heard Jesus say, ‘I am the way, the truth and the light.’ He’s a guide, always findable; just a prayer away. But too, the large rocks can guide the way. Jesus does the same and He’s the biggest rock of all for any who seek refuge, comfort or to guide their way. There are small, insignificant things like us smaller rocks, which can even be a temporary comfort to people for one reason or another. Therefore, we do have and serve a purpose, but we’re only temporary and can’t always be found in the same place.  Sometimes we can’t even be found at all when someone needs us. Rocks don’t come to you when you need them; you have to seek them. It’s much like having to seek Jesus because God gave man freedom of choice. Jesus, of course, can come to people, but He usually prefers to wait for an invitation. In that way too, He knows it’s sincere.

     I was brought once more to the image of that precious man: Son of God come to earth, treading laboriously that path to Calvary under the massive burden of all sin: even those yet to happen throughout time for those who believe in Him, so that, because of His journey and death, they could have everlasting life with Him and all other believers gone there before them in Heaven. Yes indeed, Jesus is the biggest rock!