The son of a carpenter

There was once a maker of fine furniture. He was known far and wide for his unique style and excellent craftsmanship. Because the quality of the furniture was unmatched a great many orders were placed. This kept the man busy all day and sometimes into the night.

He had a son, who he had raised with the hope he would one day inherit his work. But as the son got older he grew more bitter at his father for never giving him what he felt he deserved. The son stopped working in his fathers workshop and became more and more demanding of his fathers resources to be spent on his own pleasures. The son filled himself with every pleasure he could buy.

One day the father, seeing the self destructive nature of his son, cut him off from his wealth. The son left his fathers house in search of the food and drink he craved. For a time the son was able to find the things he craved. But, after some time the cravings grew more intense and friend after friend began turning the son away.

One night as the son wandered down the street he came upon his fathers workshop empty and closed for the night. This son became bitter and filled with rage saying my father has done this to me. So, the son broke into his fathers furniture shop and began pounding on and driving nails into all of his fathers finished work

The son made quite a noise swearing and carrying on as he worked over the furniture. When he exhausted himself he collapsed onto the ground. Looking up he saw his father had been watching him for some time. The father was weeping.

The son said "That's right father, weep for your precious furniture."

"I am weeping for you my son, not this furniture. All this is nothing more than wood and metal. But, you my son are flesh of my flesh, and bone of my bone. The Son wept with his father and finally forgave him.

The next morning the son came to his fathers shop and was amazed to find it clean and orderly. Most of the damage he had caused had been repaired. But, upon closer inspection the marks in the fine wood were still present.

The father was fast asleep propped up against a desk with a can of wood stain and a brush in his hands. He had been up all night repairing the furniture.

For a long time the son stood and watched his father. When the father awoke the son started "father I am sorry..." But, his father interrupted him, "Son I can never 'fix' these pieces of furniture. The damage you caused will always be present, it will always mark these things, just as it marks you and I. However just because they bear these scars does not mean they are wasted. In fact it gives many of them a new caricature. In many ways they are more authentic and valuable than they were before."

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Commentary

Was the father working so much to provide the son with a better life?

Was the son grateful for the fathers work?

What void was the son trying to fill?

Would the son have had that void to fill if the father had slowed down and spent more time with him?

Do we expect to be healed of our scars or does having them make us more valuable?

ritual significance

There was once a monastery in the mountains that had become known as a place for quiet reflection and deeply spiritual prayer. The Abbot was known far and wide for his ability to lead others in evening prayers in such a way it was said the veil of heaven was pulled back for a short time. Pilgrims from far away traveled to learn from the monks.

One day as the monks began their evening prayers, the dog who lived in the monastery made such noise that it distracted them. So the Abbot ordered that the dog be tied up during the evening prayers. Day after day the dog became riled up and made a fuss as time for evening prayers approached, and so day after day the Abbot ordered the Dog tied up.

Years later, when the Abbot died, the dog continued to be tied up during the evening prayers.When the dog eventually died, another dog was brought to the monastery and tied up each evening before prayers. Pilgrims continued to come to the monastery from all over the known world.

Over the centuries learned descendants of the Abbot and his disciples wrote scholarly treatises about the ritual significance of tying up a dog for evening prayers. They perfected the manor in which the dog was to be bound, and even prescribed how the dog was to be selected and how it was to be treated before and after the evening prayers. As time passed the practice of tying up a dog before evening prayers spread to every corner of the church.

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This parable was written under the influence of Mark 7:7-8

"They worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men.'You have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to the traditions of men."And he said to them: "You have a fine way of setting aside the commands of God in order to observe your own traditions!" -Jesus

This parable almost seems ridiculous on the surface. Who among us would believe that tying up a dog would be required for our prayer life.

However Are there not a great many things we assume need to be done in order to be closer to God?

How many of those things are spelled out as necessary in the bible?

How many are rituals handed down to us by man?

This Too Shall Pass

A Woman went to her pastor and said, "My prayer life is horrible! I feel so distracted, and unfocused. I can't remember who or what I promised to pray for through out the day, and worst of all I often fall asleep. It's just horrible!"

"Don't fret sister, this too shall pass," the pastor said matter-of-factly.

A month later, She came back to her pastor, "My prayer life is wonderful! I feel so aware, so connected, so alive! It's just wonderful!'

"Don't fret sister, this too shall pass," the pastor said matter-of-factly.

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Commentary

In life we often pass through phases of connectedness to the divine.

These phases have been called spiritual deserts, spiritual winters, seasons of dryness, being on fire, baptized in the spirit, ect...

Many pastors, writers, and theologians have devoted much energy to helping people through the down and dry phases while ignoring that the place they desire to move their charges "back to" is simply an equal part of the ebb and flow of our human brokenness.