We learn wonderful things from our fathers, and this topic is inspired by things I learned from and love about mine. About ten years ago, my dad, who always wanted to be a carpenter instead of a fighter pilot, started earnestly a series of woodworking projects in the garage to keep his skills sharp. From that endeavor, I have several pieces that now decorate my house. They are beautiful pieces of artwork with a fascinating past and history. They also gave rise to a conversation this Sunday about another Son of a Carpenter and what He does to make beautiful work.
Since I was in high school, my dad has made me pieces of furniture, decor, and games out of wood. The Jenga game I have downstairs is made by him from old, broken karate board fragments. The old dresser in my bedroom that holds my winter wear, socks, and underwear, was made out of old 2x4s. The top of the desk on which I do my financial work and where I do grading, etc., at home was made by him out of wood so I could have a desk in college. In more recent years, the bathroom vanity cabinets, the game cabinet in my living room, and the clock he gave me this year for Christmas were all made by him. Pictures below. The thing about these pieces is that they all have one thing in common- they are all made out of pine. The thing about most of the newer pieces is that they were once cast off garbage- pine pallet wood. My dad disassembled pallets, removed the nails, filled the gouges, planed, sanded, sawed, screwed, stained, and joined them back again into beautiful pieces of art.
Each of us as we pass through life starts to look like a pallet, even if it's not visible to others. We are beaten, broken, bruised, cracked, soiled, walked upon, thrown around, stacked in the corner, forlorn, forgotten, and forboding, a bleak future in one of my cousin Derrick's bonfires our last stop. Most people think that pallet wood is good for only one thing, and Aldus Huxley would agree of humans. However, beneath the grime, beside the damage, and after all the other things through which we pass, we are beautiful on the inside. We are all children of God, and He can saw, sand, screw, stain, and join together the pieces of any broken life into a beautiful piece of art.
I do not think that it's accidental that Jesus was the son of a carpenter. It was one of the most skilled trades of the time. Wood was scarce in the middle eastern desert, and the finest artisans and craftsman at the time were hired to etch and work in wood to the comfort and veneration of the rich and powerful. Jesus would have seen trees grow, some straight, and some skewed. He would have seen trees die. He would have seen His father Joseph carefully select pieces, and He would have seen His father work with pieces that others might discard. He would have learned attention to detail and the skills necessary to coax beauty from the grains, from the branches, from the boards, to the reward and pleasure of His fathers. Every piece of wood has a place, and even the most dingy pine pallet boards can become something wondrous, lustrous, useful, and beautiful with the touch of the Master's Hand. I also find it interesting that they drove nails into His hands, because that would help Him understand how to remove the nails of sin, trial, and pain from the pallet of our lives before He begins to work with us to build something better.
I have the honour to be the son of two carpenters. My birth father fashioned fine furniture for my house. My siblings get wood of different trees and from different sources due to taste and ultimate end, but almost everything he ever built for me was made of pine. It's not usually regarded as a good wood, as a beautiful grain, as something strong, or as first choice for woodworking projects. Some species seem fit only for paper or fuel. However, it is soft and easy to work with, and it's plentiful since many people cast it away as dross and refuse. That's kind of how I feel sometimes about how people treat me- they think I'm weak, nondescript, last choice, bottom line, and worthy of being cast aside in favor of things that look better. However, I know the true story of origin behind every piece my father made. Moreover, I know about what my Heavenly Father made. He sent His son to walk with men on earth that we may know of love and tenderness, that every piece of wood, however dirty, knotty, spalted, diseased, dented, damaged, can be reclaimed in His hand to something wonderful. People judge us based on the show of our countenance, the size of our bank account, the loftiness of our title, the make of our car, and the beauty of our spouse. God told Isaiah:
"Forasmuch as this people draw near me with their mouth, and with their lips do honour me, but have removed their heart far from me, and their fear toward me is taught by the precept of men: Therefore, behold, I will proceed to do a marvellous work among this people, even a marvellous work and a wonder: for the wisdom of their wise men shall perish, and the understanding of their prudent men shall be hid."
Guests will not see when they look at the wood projects in my house that they were once "trash" by the metrics measured by men. Their wisdom and understanding will not see what they were, only what they are, and ultimately that's how God sees us after the Carpenter Christ works on us. Men may not see, reward, recognize, or reform, but the Lord seeth not as man seeth, for the Lord looketh on the heart. I am the Son of A Carpenter, and one day, I will be beautiful in His eyes.
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