A Rock, Some Sand, and Wisdom

When I was about six years-old I was going to church at the building across the street from my house. I really loved growing up in that house, I lived on Hope Street which I thought was a really cool name for a street to live on. I also thought the house was cool because it was directly across the street from the church we attended. It meant that on weekdays we could use the church parking lot to ride our bicycles around in and not be considered too far from home. In the Summer someone always found a way to get inside the church so we could use the indoor basketball court. But at age six the most important thing about living across the street from church was that we would walk to church every Sunday. It was like clockwork every week.

This one particular time I went to church my Mom had just purchased a suit for me. It was my first suit and I felt very important as a six year-old wearing a suit to church, like a bishop or one of the missionaries. My Mother had told me that I looked very handsome in it and my child heart felt on top of the world. Nothing could ruin my day.

I remember sitting in my Sunday School class. My teacher was Mrs. McGovern, my neighbor who was a nice older woman. She was nice in the distant older person who doesn't really talk to children playing in the yard next to hers during the week way. She wasn't like other older people who get very excited when they see small children and want to hug them and tell them stories. She was nice to me in the class, I imagined it was because I was her favorite since I was her neighbor. Before class started she complimented me on my new suit, I felt inches taller, and she asked if I would help her in an object lesson.

An object lesson was something I was very familiar with as a six year-old, it meant that something special was going to happen in class. I agreed to help her. As class started Mrs. McGovern brought out two containers, they both looked like plant pots with little dishes attached to the bottom. In one pot there was a flat rock, in the other pot there was some sand packed into a square block. She placed them both on the table so we could all see them. Then she took out some building blocks and built two simple houses, one on top of the rock and and one on top of the pile of sand.

She asked me and another boy in the group to come to the front of the class. She said that the house on the sand was my house and the house on the rock was the other boy's house. She asked the class who was the wise man and who was the foolish man for building their house on a rock or on the sand. At my age I honestly didn't know, but I really hoped I was the wise man, I mean I had the suit and everything for it. Mrs. McGovern gave us each a little watering can and asked the me and the other boy to go out of the classroom and fill them from the drinking fountain at the end of the hall.

The walk back to the classroom with my full watering can was nerve racking. I did my best not to spill a single drop even though I was livid with anticipation. When we got back to the classroom our teacher asked us to wait outside until she ask us to. The waiting didn't help me, I could hear the teacher speaking and then the children sang a little song. I heard the music but I couldn't make out the words. Finally after what seemed like an eternity my neighbor asked us to come inside the classroom with our little watering cans. Ms. McGovern asked the other boy to come up first while I stood and watched. The children began to sing a song:

The wise man built his house upon the rock
The wise man built his house upon the rock

The wise man built his house upon the rock

And the rain came tumbling down

Our teacher motioned for the other boy to pour his watering can over the little block structure on the rock. He poured as the children sang further:

Oh, the rain came down
And the floods came up

The rain came down

And the floods came up

The rain came down

And the floods came up

And the wise man's house stood firm.

The house was wet but unphased. My grey-haired neighbor motioned for me to come to the front of the class. I walked up, my small hands tightly gripping the cold water vessel. The children's song continued:

The foolish man built his house upon the sand

The foolish man built his house upon the sand

The foolish man built his house upon the sand

And the rain came tumbling down

I poured the water over the house and its foundation of compacted sand.

Oh, the rain came down
And the floods came up

The rain came down

And the floods came up

The rain came down

And the floods came up

And the foolish man's house went "splat!"

The sand seemed to melt away under the stream of water and the feeble house of blocks collapsed. Now normally I would have cheered at the sight of wanton destruction like any normal six year-old boy, but the implications of this demonstration struck me hard. I wasn't even listening as the last verse was sung:
 

So, build your house on the Lord Jesus Christ
Build your house on the Lord Jesus Christ

Build your house on the Lord Jesus Christ

And the blessings will come down

Oh, the blessings come down

As your prayers go up

The blessings come down

As your prayers go up

The blessings come down

As your prayer go up

So build your house on the Lord Jesus Christ.

I was the foolish man. My little mind reeled at the thought of it. Not only did I have poor judgement in real estate and hired a shabby contractor for my house, but I had also apparently not built my life on a foundation of Christ. How was that possible? Especially when I was so smartly dressed.
 
Needless to say I've thought about that object lesson throughout my life. It didn't take long for me to understand that a foolish man would never realize that he was in fact foolish. Just like the Pharisees never realized they were crucifying the Messiah. Just like the sinner thinks he can hide his sins from God and the world. Just like you and me.
 
I like to think that I'm wise but often I find myself driving pylons into sandy beaches in my life and thinking, "this will hold." Thankfully I like to think of Mrs McGovern's lesson whenever I think a little too highly of myself, or dress a little too sharply, and I wonder if I'm being the wise man or the foolish man. Taking just that moment to think has made a huge difference in my life, and often it's helped me from building on a sandy foundation.