The Rev. Frank Logue
King of Peace Episcopal Church
Kingsland, Georgia
January 18, 2004 

High Water Marks
Joshua 3-4

When Victoria, Griffin and I lived in Rome, Georgia, our house sat across the road from the levy. Just over the levy was the Oostanaula River, which a short distance downstream met the Etowah River to form the Coosa River. The rise and fall of the water in these three rivers had been an essential part of the geography of the area long before there was a Rome, Georgia. And before the levy was built, flooding was routine in Rome.  

I’m not sure if it took faith to live in the shadow of the levy. It might have been a short memory. The flooding got to be so bad that at one point, merchants on Broad Street in Rome moved to the second story and stayed there. To this day, there are buildings below street level in Rome. A couple of places in town, you can see the high water lines marked on the side of a building or bridge showing the height of the river and naming the year of the flood. You can see similar high water marks in nearly any town built along a major river.  

The Jordan River in Israel also has its annual cycle of flooding. Each year, when the snow melts on Mount Hermon just as the rainy season starts, the sometimes-puny stream known as the Jordan lives up to its name as a river. It was during this time of year when the Israelites crossed into the land we know as Israel. The Israelites made a cairn to mark a different sort of high water line for that year’s flood. The 12 stones of the cairn marked a high water line that was both physical and spiritual. 

For more than 400 years, the children of Israel had been dreaming of the land promised to their ancestor Abraham. The 12 stones marked the day the Israelites crossed from the wilderness into that Promised Land. Their leader Joshua knew that this was a momentous occasion and he commanded that each of the 12 tribes of Israel select one man to represent their tribe in creating a memorial.  

Just as prophesied, when priests carrying the Ark of the Covenant stepped into the Jordan, the waters of the flooded Jordan divided. The waters upstream piled up in a heap about 15 miles upstream in Adam while the downstream side ran down to the Dead Sea. As the priests stood in the midst of what had just been a flooded riverbed, all the nation of Israel walked on dry ground into the Promised Land. 

As commanded, the 12 men each took a stone and made a marker. This was a high water mark in the life of Israel. No matter what else the future might hold, the people who had crossed the river that day and all their descendants could look back on those 12 stones and remember the day God had fulfilled the promise made to Abraham. 

But, we should note that though they had crossed into Palestine, the Promised Land was still the home to seven Canaanite nations. The battles to conquer the land are still ahead. The Promised Land is still just a Promise as Joshua commands the creation of this high water mark in the life of Israel. That made this marker all the more important as it was a sign of God’s faithfulness. One could look at the memorial and know that if God could bring his people through the flooded river on dry ground, then God could deliver the Promised Land to the Israelites. 

The idea of a high water mark is one that has come to me again and again as the pastor of King of Peace. I don’t know that I have ever mentioned it before, but I have thought of a series of high water marks in this very house.  

There was Emily Gross’ baptism the very day that we closed on this house. Thirty-four people came to worship in what was still very much a three-bedroom, two-bath house. The next month we marked another high water line when we held our first public service on Christmas Eve. The next month in January of 2001, we baptized five members of the West family at the Bishop’s first visit to his new mission. I could go on listing high water marks in our life as a church.  

Those marks certainly are not based on attendance. Sure its been nice on the few occasions when a hundred or more of us have shoehorned ourselves into this place of worship. But there have been times with quite a few empty seats when somehow everything has clicked and I’ve left the service thinking, “If you didn’t like that one, you just don’t like church.”  

That’s not bragging. Worship that transcends what we bring has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with God. And this little house has seen some wonderful times of worship, some real moments of life change. 

And now we come to the last high water mark for this building. In a way, we too are crossing over into the Promised Land. And like the crossing in the Book of Joshua, moving out of this building marks an important moment, but we have not yet arrived. We are still encamped on the edge of what God has promised us. We have not yet fully arrived. And yet, we can take this moment to make our mark. This week the only building ever to house us as a church will be moved off our property. We might be without a home for a brief time, but we can look at what God has done before and what God is doing today and know that God will be faithful tomorrow and all our tomorrows. 

Now, so far it might seem that I am building focused. We have been in this building and we are moving into a new building. That is the physical reality and it is quite true. But there is a deeper, spiritual reality. God has acted in our midst in some wonderful ways in this house, but it was not because of this house. As the Holy Spirit continues to work in our midst in our new building, it will be no more about that building than it was about this building. God is not pinned down to any one place.  

We have not built a new place of worship to impress God into coming and joining us. We have built a new building to enable us to answer God’s call in reaching out to our community. The building is not for us. Not those of us gathered here today. We have building enough in this house. The new building is just a tool to facilitate the things God has for the future of us as a church.  

By stepping away from this building before the new building is completed is to take steps of faith together. Today we claim the future God has for us and for our community. Today we make another high water mark in the certain knowledge that it will neither be the last mark nor the highest mark. 

But before we forge ahead into the death of what we have known looking forward to the resurrection of God’s promise, I want to challenge you to look at the high water marks in your life. 

Each of us can fall into the trap of marking the times of greatest tragedy and loss without marking the times of greatest joy. What are the high water marks in your family’s life, in your life? When have you felt great joy? What about your spiritual high water marks? When have you felt God’s presence in a way that you could not deny?  

When those momentous events occur, when God acts in your life in a way you can’t deny, make your mark. Laminate that memory. Do whatever you need to do to hold on to the gift of that high water mark in your spiritual journey. Our Trinitarian God surely has more for you, but don’t forget the ways God has already acted in your life. 

The Book of Joshua records that the stones were for generations yet unborn. When they ask, “What do these stones mean?” The people are to remind those children that God once led Israel across the flooded Jordan on dry ground. If you want your friends and family to know the high water marks in your spiritual journey, you will have to tell them the story. 

“There was this time when God did something amazing for me that I will never forget…” Then you fill in the rest. We all need those sorts of reminders of what God has done. It is in remembering these high water marks in your life of faith that you can learn to trust God more and more. 

Amen.