Rock Solid Memories: When Crossing a River Means More Than Getting Wet

Joshua 1–4 follows a major turning point in the larger story of the Israelites. After decades of wandering in the wilderness, they are finally on the edge of entering the land they’ve been heading toward. But first, they have to cross the Jordan River—not just a physical barrier, but a moment of transition.

The river is overflowing its banks. It's not an easy crossing. And yet, the narrative describes how, as soon as the priests carrying the Ark of the Covenant step into the water, the flow of the river stops, allowing everyone to cross on dry land. It’s hard not to notice the parallels to the Red Sea crossing in the earlier part of the story. That moment marked the beginning of the wilderness journey; this one marks its end.

Twelve Stones and One Big Question

But what happens after the crossing caught my attention. Joshua selects twelve individuals, one from each tribe, and asks them to take stones from the middle of the river—from the place where the Ark had been. The stones are carried out and arranged into a pile on the far bank.

What was the purpose of that?

According to the text, the stones are meant to serve as a sign. In the future, when children ask, "What do these stones mean?" the people are supposed to tell the story of how they crossed the Jordan. The pile becomes a kind of public marker—a physical object that connects people to an experience they didn’t witness themselves.

Memory Aids: Ancient and Everyday

It’s interesting how often people use objects to help remember things. A photograph, a ticket stub, a note scribbled in a journal. These items become stand-ins for memory, especially during moments of change. The stones taken from the river are doing something similar. They mark a specific moment when things shifted—when something that seemed impossible became possible.

Forgotten Without a Trace?

But there's another side to this. The fact that such a memorial is even needed suggests how easy it might be to forget. Time moves forward, and details fade. The moment that once felt so vivid might eventually seem distant or unreal.

This section raised some questions for me. What kinds of things do we try to remember? What do we choose to mark with an object or a story? And what do we forget because we didn’t mark it at all?

Stones with a Story

The stones weren’t just about looking back. They were also about helping people in the future make sense of the past. When questions come up—as they often do—there’s something to point to. Something that holds the weight of a story.

As the Israelites begin a new chapter, they bring with them more than just supplies or strategy. They bring memory—or at least a way to hold onto it.