The Invisible Memorial, Joshua 4:9-24

Last week we were Making Memories as we saw the visible memorial stones, here we see the invisible ones.

The memorial stones we laid last week, were set as reminders, stepping stones to Divine Destiny. So, that all the world may know, and honor, and fear, the mighty hand of the LORD, forever.

They were never to be forgotten, nor, to be anchors binding us in the past. However, without the invisible memorials, we look at today, they will be just that.

The invisible memorials, make the visible ones, viable.

Then Joshua set up twelve stones in the midst of the Jordan, in the place where the feet of the priests who bore the ark of the covenant stood; and they are there to this day. Joshua 4:9.

Still there today…

Some say, the twelve stones were still there, “at least at the time of Joshua’s writing.”

However, if the stones were able to stand, against the mega, gushing, rushing, flash flooding that occurred upon the release of the heap of water, they are still standing, to this very day; just as the Bible says.

Nevertheless, after that day, they may have been, never seen again, by the human eye. They were a memorial placed in an invisible place…only seen by God.

There’s no recorded command from God for Joshua to set these twelve stones in the bed of the Jordan. No explanation from Joshua. No assistance noted from the rock carrying crew.

Just Joshua.  

Like a sidenote scribbled in the margin. An editor might’ve cut it. But not God, The Chief Editor in Chief, saw to it, that it was kept, so we could see it, and read it, and talk about it, some 3,400 years later.

For them, stepping across the Jordan, was stepping across the threshold into their new home.

Picture Joshua. Put yourself in his shoes. Sandals. Pretend you’re him, for just a moment.

You are standing in the midst of the dry Jordan river bed. The dozen boulder-toters, we saw previously, have already hoisted their load up onto the shore. The people are mulling about, along the western shoreline, gawking at how an invisible wall is holding back the water. Downstream, kids are sneaking into the empty riverbed; looking for hidden treasure.

You stand alone. Just you and the priests, and the LORD.

Your eyes follow a thousand footprints back to the east bank, where you’d just come from.

Then, the eyes of your memory kick in, and you gaze back through forty, dusty years, of wilderness wandering. Decades of graves, until you’re the last one, of your generation, standing; well just you, and your friend Caleb.

You hear the rumble of people, talking, gawking, watching, waiting, wondering what’s next. You sigh and think of a simpler time, when all you had to do, was follow the footsteps of Moses.

You realize, this is it, we’re crossing the threshold into our new home, after this, nothing will ever be the same.

No more pillar of fire to follow, no more pillar of cloud to guide. No more, free food, with every morning dew, no more…Moses.

Was this the moment of closure for Joshua? Is this when it finally hits home. Moses is dead.

God said it straight out of the gate, with no sugar-coat.

“Moses My servant is dead. Now arise and cross this Jordan.” Joshua 1:2.

But with all the flurry of activity, it may not have sunk in, just yet. I mean, they only had three days to prepare the people for crossing the Jordan. Then, calming the gossip, after the spies returned with their report—straight from the heart of a harlot.

But now, it gets real. Really, real. The day it hits home. After this, nothing, will ever be the same.

You know how it feels.

The funeral is over. The visits, the calls, the cards, the casseroles, the flowers…stop. For some reason, somehow, the world keeps spinning, folks go back to buzzing about, doing their thing. All you can hear, is the clock on the wall, ticking a whole lot louder…and slower.

If you’ve never been there, it’s hard to understand, hard to get. If you have been, it’s something, you never, forget.

This threshold is hard to cross—but it must be crossed.

Like the couple that finally slid the wrinkled piece of paper across the counter at the small-town local newspaper office.  

One of them said; “We’d like to place an ad.” They both stared at the piece of wrinkled paper.

You couldn’t tell by looking, but that paper, was tear-stained.

The husband opened his wallet to pay, and… time stood still.

Like an autumn leaf, gently falling, the tiny pink sock, with “Hope” embroidered across the top, floated like a feather, from his wallet, to the floor.

All at once time shifted into high. In one fluid motion they clutched, “Hope,” burst into tears, and out the door.

The clerk called, “Wait—" holding up the wrinkled paper; but they were gone.

She lowered the, tear stained page, and read:  

For sale: Baby clothes. Never worn.

 

As Joshua stood there in the threshold between, what was—and what will be, do you think his eyes may have clouded? Perhaps they held more water than that river bottom, as he looked at all those footprints in the sand; looked at the smallness, of his own, and thought, who am I, that He’d choose to use, me? How can I ever do this? How could I ever fill his shoes?

Can you see him, lifting his head to the sky, wiping his eyes?

A shimmer of light bounces off the water. That gravity-defying water, standing there, just behind the priests, who hold the ark—the very presence of God.

In that moment, seeing that water, miraculously held by the invisible hand of God; even a blind man could see, that it has nothing to do with the size of your shoe, or might of your sword, or authority in your speech. It’s all about Him. His power. His might. His strength.

It’s not by power, not by might, but by My Spirit, says the Lord. Zechariah 4:6.

Perhaps it’s then, Joshua knew just what to do.

Some memorials are too sacred, too personal, too precious, too powerful, to be seen and touched and handled by men.

The invisible memorials, make the visible ones, viable.

Out of sight, out of mind, doesn’t apply, to memorials made inside, with the heart. Those are the kind you don’t need a reminder, you can never forget, never erase.

On that day, Joshua set up a twelve stone memorial, knowing, that moments after it was laid, it would only be visible to his Lord.

Have we ever done anything like that?

Not so much setting up a bunch of rocks; but an intentional act of honor, of worship, just between you and The LORD?

When we do, watch what happens. The rocky soil of our soul softens, our heart becomes fertile, the areas where serving Him was once a chore, transforms to a passionate honor. What once was cloudy and confusing, becomes clear and amazing.

What Joshua did, made no sense to the natural mind, so much so, that rarely will you find any teaching or preaching, on the matter.

But from God’s perspective, it was profound.

With this one act, Joshua was able to honor God, pay tribute to Moses, and the patriarchs, who laid the foundation for them to receive the promise.

These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them Hebrews 11:13

And if need be, this also provided Joshua, a grand opportunity for closure.

After that, he never needed an outward reminder, to remember where he came from, who he was, and where he was going.

For what’s engrafted in our heart, we need no reminder—it’s part of who we are.

Stones stacked in a pile, or stately standing statues, or steeples or crosses, are of no value without the invisible commitment to Godliness, (the fruit of the Spirt).

Without these invisible attributes, the stones and statues become rubble, from a generation that won’t see past their demand; give us what we want, or we’ll burn down the system.

Is it not the invisible that keeps the marriage alive, not the license?

Baptism, is only worth what’s already taken place, inside.

Communion, is only holy, if we prepare ourselves inwardly, to humbly, receive and remember, the sacrifice of our Lord.

The visible pile of stones on the west bank, the ones that were set to be seen, as a reminder, are gone—or at least, as of yet, have never been found. But the ones under the Jordan, the ones meant to be invisible, remain.

Yet, in God’s Divine timing, and purpose, perhaps, they are about to be revealed.

Just recently, new archeological finds have been made, in the bottom of the Euphrates, and Tigris, due to drought. The era, of their findings? 3400 years ago. The same time, we’re talking about today. The same time, Joshua laid these stones, in the bottom of the river.

Is the timing of our study, and this find, coincidence? Or…Providence? 

Is God, once again, stepping in, making Himself visible, not with a pillar of fire and smoke, but by His invisible hand? 

The same Hand Joshua was called to follow, that day. The only One, Who can see, the memorial stones, in the bottom of the Jordan, and in the bottom of our heart.

Have you made that covenant with Him. The one that needs no reminders?

Let’s pray.

LORD, thank You, for opening the eyes of our soul, to see Your invisible hand at work in our lives, and in our world, so that we may know You, and honor You, and reflect You, forever and ever, amen.