Stumbling Stone or Rifted Rock?

Twenty years ago, I was a counselor at Spruce Lake Wilderness Camp in Pennsylvania. Every week, one of the most anticipated activities was a camp-wide game we played called Mission Impossible -- which was essentially a ramped-up version of Hide-and-Seek-in-the-dark. The organizers really got into it. Each week, they introduced the game to the campers in a fun-but-intense skit in the pavilion, and then each counselor was given a piece of paper with their tent-group's "mission" on it.

The mission that summer involved each tent-group making their way through the woods at night to three different checkpoints, where they would collect an item related to the camp theme for the summer (during the summer of 2001, our camp theme was "Living Water," so we had to carry three cups of water -- one from each checkpoint -- through the dark woods). When our "mission" was fulfilled, each tent-group would to return to the pavilion.

However, the camp staff (excluding counselors, who were with their tent-groups) were the "seekers," and if they pin-pointed any wandering tent-groups in the woods, they could send them back to square one, where the group would have to begin all over again. The first group to get to the pavilion with three full cups of water won the game.

This game was a long-standing tradition; campers actually arrived at camp having packed clothing specifically to wear for this game (camouflage, mostly). Many campers would dig out ash from their tent-site's firepit and coat their faces, anything that might shine in the light of a powerful spotlight from the "enemy."

Y'all, I like indoors activities. I like cleanliness. I like calm, non-adrenaline producing things like... crocheting, playing Scrabble, watching a movie occasionally. I like the absence of insects and spiders in my immediate vicinity. Why was I a wilderness camp counselor? I don't know; I guess somewhere -- deeply, deeply hidden -- was a form of enjoyment for this type of game.

Anyway, so one particular week, I was leading my tent-group of ten girls and a counselor-in-training through the dark, black woods. To get to our checkpoint, we were going to have to cross the main driveway that cut through the camp, which was usually crawling with the "enemy" and lots and lots of bright lights. We weren't too far away from that drive; I could hear the shouts of staff as they called to each other. My girls were super well-behaved, only talking in whispers if they had to talk at all. No one could see very well; the trees were just black cylindrical shapes rising above our heads, and now and then, we'd stumble over vines or a loose patch of gravel or dirt. 

We found the main driveway, and I whispered to my girls to hunker down and wait, as the camp truck lumbered by with a big spotlight shining into the woods. It passed, and another car came the other way, again with flashlights. It disappeared, and I told my girls to book it across the road. I could already hear another car coming, though it hadn't yet appeared.

We ran. I was in the lead, but feeling my responsibility -- I was running while looking over my shoulder to make sure my girls were all there and safe. 

The rock came out of nowhere. With the darkness almost complete, I couldn't see small boulders at my feet. My leg hit it, and I went flying face-first into the ground with my feet in the air. 

My shin immediately let me know that I wasn't just suffering from loss of dignity. I carried a flashlight just in case of emergencies, so, covering the light with my hand, I checked out the damage. There was a torn strip of skin from my knee clear down to my ankle, and lots and lots of blood already flowing and dripping onto the forest detritus.

Eh. I was 21 at the time. It was a flesh wound; I'd be all right. If I'd been doing this at 41 (my current age), my reaction might have been a little different. :)

My girls were concerned about me, and we had a quickly whispered conference about whether I should head up to the pavilion as I sent the girls on with the counselor-in-training. Before we could decide, the car I'd heard coming appeared on the road. 

Get down! We all hunkered down behind trees on the forest floor. Somewhat ironically, that boulder that had thrown me for an almost literal loop... was the same boulder that also kept me sheltered from the spotlight shining into the woods. I hovered behind it, safe in its black shadow, and we waited until the car bypassed us, before I told the girls to continue on. You know, I can't actually remember if I went to the pavilion to get first-aid, or if I went on with them to finish the "mission"... That's not important.

The boulder is the important part of the story. In Romans 9:30-33, Paul says: "What then shall we say? That the Gentiles, who did not pursue righteousness, have obtained it, a righteousness that is by faith; but Israel, who pursued a law of righteousness, has not attained it. Why not? Because they pursued it, not by faith, but as if it were by works. They stumbled over the 'stumbling stone.' As it is written: 'See, I lay in Zion a Stone that causes men to stumble and a Rock that makes them fall, and the one who trusts in Him will never be put to shame.'"

Why would God place a "stumbling stone" in anyone's pathway? It seems to me that it's all centered around the idea of faith.

Hebrews 11:6 says: "And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to Him must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him."

See, in the dark woods, where I couldn't see anything at all, I was straining every. last. nerve I possessed to figure out how to navigate through the trees without getting caught. I was relying on my own senses. I was trusting my own judgments.

And I messed up. In my fear of discovery by the "enemy," I lost track of my "mission." And I tripped. 

But this is actually pretty cool: On the flip side of this scenario, the same rock that tripped me up also protected me from my "enemy." As I huddled in its protection on the far side of the boulder, I couldn't be seen. 

"When my glory passes by," said God to Moses one day, "I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with My hand until I have passed by" (Exodus 33:22). I will hide you. I will hide you under My own hand.

You are protected in the cleft of the rock, covered there with My hand.

Psalm 91:1-2 says: "He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, 'He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in Whom I trust." Down in Psalm 91:11, it continues: "For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands so that you will not strike your foot against a stone."

Normally... we don't get to see those angels with our physical eyes; faith tells us that they're there. Faith tells us that the Lord is our Refuge and our Fortress. Faith keeps us from striking our foot against a stone. 

Not works. All the good deeds, right intentions, striving and trying in the world, will not keep us from that stumbling stone. Faith leads us around it, because that's when we stop trusting our own faulty judgments and allow the Lord's guidance to navigate our path.

Heading back to Romans 9, Paul is pointing out the difference between walking by faith and walking by works. When we walk in the confidence of our works, we fall flat on our faces, because -- y'all, I don't know about you, but I'm night-blind. Obviously. That boulder leaped out from nowhere, and the next thing you know, I was holding my wounds and wishing I'd paid better attention.

Faith kept me behind the rock as the spotlight swept over me. I felt fully exposed. I felt unprotected... but for the rock where I hid in its cleft. 

The "enemy" moved on. The "enemy" didn't find me. The only thing the "enemy" found as they swept the woods was... a rock.

A rock that fronted me, that stood between me and the "enemy."

Isn't that just like my Jesus? 1 Peter 5:8-9 says: "Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings."

It's a whole lot easier to stand firm, when you've got a Rock to stand firm on. When you've got a Rock to stand between you and the enemy. The thing is, that Rock -- without faith -- is a stumbling stone. With faith, it becomes our protection.

Without faith, it's impossible to please God. With faith, He hides us in the cleft of the Rock and covers us with His hand.

Dark days, these days, you know? It's hard to have faith. All we can see is darkness, all we can hear is what feels like the taunting laughter of enemies. How to describe faith? 

Faith is simultaneously letting go and rooting in. Faith is simultaneously releasing our control and letting God have the control. 

Our faith is all situated around that Rock. Do we stumble over it? Or do we hide in it? 

We actually have the choice. He gives us that choice.