“Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it” (Matthew 7:24-27).
This past summer we took apart the family farm. My early years had seen minimal traffic passing between the house side and the barn side of the road. We used to play ball on the road and ride our bikes in figure eight patterns back and forth across its surface with little more than a quick glance for any possible car. As darkness enveloped the countryside, the telephone lines which bordered the road served as sentinels to announce approaching vehicles. We would sit at the kitchen window and look out past the apple orchard for minutes on end as we waited for the illuminated lines to signal a car approaching the curve. Eventually the family sedan would be the one responsible for the dancing lights. But as the years passed, so did an ever-increasing amount of traffic. The rare car or tractor turned into a steady stream, like a moving fence between the two sides of our property. Eventually, Mom and Dad moved to quieter surroundings and the buildings on the house side disappeared.
The inevitable came last summer as that once-quiet road was turned into a four-lane thoroughfare. The buildings on the barn side were in the way and the summer project became the rescue of our past. Cousins joined us in the take-down of the metal Quonset shed that Mom and Dad had nailed to the wooden frame 58 years earlier. After weeks of preparation, people gathered to watch the red barn slowly move off its punctured foundation and head across the field toward its new location closer to the house my brother had recently built in the woods. Grandpa had that barn built in 1932, and for 83 years it had stood as a familiar landmark to all who rounded the bend and travelled past.
The Lutheran schools in Michigan have been familiar landmarks in their communities for many years. Countless scores of students have passed through their doors and stopped within their walls to learn, grow, and mature. Here they have been brought to the Word of God and experienced His love every day. Our family barn now sits upon a new foundation with the original base having been reduced to rubble. Fortunately, our Lutheran schools are all built on the one enduring foundation. As the hymn writer professed in LSB 644, “The Church’s one foundation is Jesus Christ, her Lord; She is His new creation by water and the Word. From heav’n He came and sought her to be His holy bride; with His own blood He bought her, and for her life He died.”
No greater truth than this can be proclaimed to our students. As teachers, we have the opportunity to lead our students to His Word so their lives can be built upon that rock. Troubles will surely come to these little ones during the course of their lives, but with a faith that is founded on the true Word, they will not fall, and in the end they will join the saints triumphant in heaven.
Photo courtesy of Elisa Schulz Photography
