The Rock

Another large stone flew through the air and crashed against the stones already piled up causing stone splinters and dust to fly. It rolled down the pile to stop halfway down. I looked at it and at the others raining down in an incessant non-stop assault. The air was becoming thicker, blocking out the weak sunlight, as stones, boulders and pebbles rained down from all directions. I checked the time. Two hours forty minutes to go. Only twenty minutes have gone by. The pile of stones was now enormous. At least as big as two houses put together. Thousands were joining in and throwing their stones out of the old leathery bags they were all carrying. I held on to mine, reluctant to even think about it. I looked around at the people. Different faces, different colours, small and tall, large and men,women and children of all ages. From all over the world they came, arriving by the hundreds every minute. I had been one of the first to witess this incredible event, but now I didn't want to stay.
I couldn't stay. Racked by guilt and fear, i wanted to run away. Anywhere but here, however the crowd drew closer and was thousands thick. I never even realised there were so many people in the world let alone all being in one place at the same time. Stones were being thrown from far away and crashing against the man made mountain. I took a breath, turned to face the crowd, saw a small gap and ran as fast as i could, but the gap was closing. Almost at the same a boulder, hurled by a giant of a man, bounded towards me at great speed through the same gap. I stopped just short of being injured by the full force of the boulder which rolled past my feet to stop at the edge of the growing mountain.
A man stood close by who was fumbling with the tie of his sack, yet i saw it was clearly open. He was embarrassed to want to reach in and grab a stone. As i watched him, he spotted me. I walked towards him.
'you having difficulty with your sack?'
'none of your business' he replied.
He was dressed in a nicely tailored business suit and his mannerisms suggested an affluent upbringing, yet here he stood with a dirty leather sack, full to bursting with rocks and stones.
'it's already open' i said, looking inside, spying the contents. I was intrigued. Some of the stones were rocks, rough hewn with sharp edges, yet some glistened like jewels.
'what are these?' i ask in surprise.
The man looked sheepishly into his bag.
'I've carried them for years. They're my favourite stones. I've worked on them a bit each day and now, see how they shine. They are like diamonds and costly jewels. They are all precious.'
I nodded in agreement with him, then asked 'what about the rough rocks?'
'leave them alone', the man shouted defensively, 'i've only just put them in my bag. They're mine. I need to work on them so they shine like the others.'
I looked at him. He was glad of his burden.
'are you proud of your achievements and how you have acquired your stones.'
'yes' the man shouted above the din of the crashing stones on the mountain. 'what about yours?' he asked.
I felt myself turn red with embarrassment and contemplated the bulky rocks jutting through my own sack. The sack is heavy and ideally I wanted to throw the whole lot at the mountain, but i have carried it all my life and now i couldn't even consider the thought of losing it.

The stones in my sack are precious. They are mine and I have earned them. They hold precious memories, some I don't even wish to recall any longer, yet they hold the very fabric of my life, all of them have interconnected meanings; gained from perfecting the previous ones. As a child my sack was small, containing nothing more than a few pebbles, yet they were not enough. I wanted what my parents had, what the others in my village were carrying. I didn't know the weight or the colour of the stones, yet their sacks were larger and everyone carried them with pride. To gain more pebbles, I would learn to fight. I quickly realised that life was easier if I told a few white lies and hid a few truths. As I grew, I developed my character out of learning from others how they told lies, stole food and tools and were dishonest with their neighbours for their own personal gain. I copied them, wanting to be like them. I found that each time I told a lie a pebble would slip into my bag. Each time I stole food from my neigbour a large pebble chinked down onto the others. My parents would clip my ear, but I would walk away proud, for my bag was filling with pebbles and becoming larger. Growing older into my teens, I found a gem of a stone. Rough hewn at first, I learned to work on it until it shone, yet the stone also grew in size as I polished it. I had fun polishing the stone; a devious trick which shocked my parents to the core when they eventually discovered my callousness.
Through school and wanting to please my friends, I told them I was rich and was due to inherit a large fortune. I would bring in items of wealth claiming I had bought them with my share of the fortune whereas I had stolen them from another town and had hidden them in a hole until I needed to impress my friends. I stole a large cache of money and went on spending sprees with my friends, ,showering them with gifts. I had girls following me thinking I was in love with them and they with me, yet all they wanted was more gifts of money and jewellry.
The stone in my bag glinted with colours depending on the light of the day. The rough hewn stone of a lie became a gem of a lifestyle, and this stone attracted other stones and the whole fabric of my character was built up.

The man in the crowd looked at me expectantly.
'Are you going to accuse me of not throwing my stones?' he asked
'no' I repled. 'I don't want to throw mine away either. I want to leave and hide' I said, eyeing the crowds, trying to find an escape route.
As I looked at people, they looked at me, their faces sad and lifeless. Some others still held on to their sacks. Perhaps we should get together, form a group and in solidarity declare a rebellion for not wanting to lose our precious gems, but time was fast diminishing. I glanced at the time. Forty minutes to go.
'You need to cast your stones upon the mountain' The voice came from inside. I turned around looking for someone who may have uttered those words but there was no one sincere in their gaze. The man next to me also heard the voice.
'I'm not throwing my stones away. Never.'
'Why are you here?' the voice asked
I had no explanation. I couldn't remember purposely travelling here.
'Where are we?' I asked
'Golgotha' came the reply
Golgotha. The name conjures up images surreal to the present and haunting of the past, just as Armageddon portrays images of a future, yet may have been in the past, for now time was fast approaching its end and I stood on the very brink of existence surrounded by the population of the world watching a growing mountain, as heavy rocks still filled the air and the sounds of smashing rocks still reverberated around the site
The man next to me relented a little. Grabbing two stones out of his sack he threw them. I watched them carreen into the pile and were lost amongst the others.
'Those two were a token gesture. They were valuable to me, yet look, I can no longer see them. They are insignificant amongst all the others' he cried.
'I didn't realise how people had so many stones. How corrupt they all must be. Everyone. Not just a few, but everyone on the entire planet had stones and stories and life experiences all tied into their sacks.
I dug through mine looking for some stones I didn't like. Finding two, I held them in my hands. 'Should I throw them?'
'It's up to you, but you know it's inevitable'
'It's not'. They were heavy. I dropped them to the ground. There. That will do. As I let them go, a force of unexplained power lifted them and shot them fast high into the mountain, causing them to split into myriad pieces as they hit.
'go on. You can let them all go now.' The voice said.
I stood still. I didn't need to throw them. I just needed to let them out of my hand. Simply, give them up in my mind and the power of the mountain would draw them away.
I became frustrated. I wanted to leave the stones on the ground in front of me, yet each time i let one drop, it would fly fast into the mountain. I shouted out in anger.
Out of the corner of my eye i noticed people watching me for a response. The sky was suddenly lighter and the sound of crashing rocks has diminished. Less than one minute to go.
'Cast your stone' the voice called out, 'obey me, just as you used to. You need to trust me once again. I've always been true to you'.
I looked into my sack, now light and empty except for one last rock, highly polished into a multi-coloured layered gem. I could never let this stone go. I couldn't surrender. I couldn't trust, yet i knew, even as time and life ebbed away, that i would have to. This is my life, my secret, my character and ego. It seemed everyone is staring at me, urging me to let the rock fly, yet i closed the sack and held the neck tightly in my hands.
Seconds raced by, counting down to zero. Voices raised and shouting. The whole world beckoning to me to let go. I have the very last stone. If they have cast all of their stones onto the mountain, surely there is no problem with me letting go of mine, yet pride stood strong. Everyone would see my secret. Did it matter any longer. My sack became suddenly heavy, weighted down as if by a thousand stones. I opened the sack. Holding the polished gem in my hand, i contemplated its design. Uniquely formed, i am glad to have made it, yet now perhaps it is time to let it go, for time was now no more.
Raising my arm, i drew my hand back and flung the gem as hard as i could. Everyone watched as the stone flew in an arc high and straight. It landed directly on top of the high mountain and the collision reverberated around the world.
Time stood still. No one moved. Darkness covered the sun; snuffed out as in a candle. I stared straight ahead at the invisible form of the mountain. I knew it was there yet all was hidden and silent. Was this the end? The end of life itself? Would i simply die along with everyone else, glued to their spot in the darkness?
The ground beneath my feet began to shake. A tremor. An earthquake. The shaking became worse and the rumbling sound became louder. People started screaming in fear and shock.
'what if the mountain slips. All those rocks will bury us.' said a woman close by.
Would that be how the end will happen? Buried by our guilt? The tremors became stronger. The darkness making it worse since we couldn't see what was happening. Suddenly the mountain appeared to split. Strong sharp light filtered through fissures in the rock. i held my breath, thinking quickly through the implications of the scene enfolding in front of me. Then, with an almighty noise, like a shout, the mountain broke apart, the light became stronger than the midday sun, and appearing above was a figure emblazoned in light, a sword in his hand, fire in his eyes. Songs of glory surrounded the standing crowds as angels in their thousands praised the risen, living Lord.
I fell on my face on the ground. 'i am guilty, my Lord' i cry in the din.
A hand grabs my shoulder,and pulls me up.
'fear not, my Son, you are forgiven.'
I stand in his glory, fear gone, and praise the mighty risen Lord.

K S WHITE
20 June 2004