I used to go to a Christian version of Boy Scouts known as Brigade. Every Monday night I faithfully went...
When I was close to 16 years old a man took over...his haircut was short and always looked freshly cut. His eyes were narrow and very direct. He looked like ex-military of some sort.
Mr. Fair was a very disciplined man indeed...there was no mincing words...direct, disciplined and contrived I decided in my mind.
On a campout weekend we were doing the foolish fun things that a 16 year old does with free time--create havoc. We were up until all hours telling stories...running around the camp, waking the leaders up over and over again unmercifully...turning over the outhouse while someone was in it....and one of my group had placed a can of baked beans in the coals of the fire...I looked down--realized the can was glowing red and starting asking if they had punched a hole in it? It was too late--the can of beans exploded and the shrapnel of the can flew like a missile into my neck... it missed the jugular by about an inch...Mr. Fair judged it was my can of beans and I was a fool as he drove me to the hospital and later home. In truth--I just realized it was there and wanted to warn everyone to get away...I don't even eat beans.
One day a week later our Jr. leader had a falling out--a shouting match in front of all of us against Mr. Fair. This Jr. leader was a friend of mine...but he hated authority....well--he had good reasons for it...but it made no difference--any authority was something to fight against in his mind. After the yelling and falling out from the war that we saw...we all wondered--now what?
Mr. Fair examined the landscape--scrutinizing the remaining battlefield and army before him. Mr. Fair pulled me aside and asked me to talk with him outside. Strange--I wonder what this is about? Mr. Fair had never spoken to me separately from the other brigade members...I didn't think he liked me very much--let along know who I am by name.
Mr. Fair started to tell me that I had the makings of a leader...that people will follow me. I remember it as being the first time someone had noticed me and tried to mentor me in some way to step into the space shaped for me...I told him I would take the mantle--still unsure but a little excited about bringing together what was remaining.
Later that evening our Jr. leader returned and apologies were made...things were made right--right in front of us.
Of course this is great--but it begs the question--where does this leave me now that I had been promoted to the same role formally?
Mr. Fair leaned into the issue almost sensing my inner question...."Glenn will remain in this new role as well...we now have two leaders--two Lieutenants."
That night I grew a few inches taller in stature and confidence...I felt as though I had been seen and noticed for being myself. It was a feeling I would appreciate and only feel a few more times in the coming years.
A few years after my Brigade years were over I saw Mr. Fair banging away on stage on Sunday morning playing the Tympani--with force and preciseness...but also with a musical freedom I hadn't pictured him with. He was somehow different than the man I had previously judged. There was an even more human side to him expressing himself through music--which I never would have imagined.
Many more years later I was selling all of my belongings at a yard sale in preparation of moving to Franklin, TN. Who drove up to our house in Dublin? That's right...it was Mr. Fair. He sized up my John Deere riding mower and handed me the cash--I think it was for one of his children. We made small talk--but there was kindness in his eyes and banter that was different from what I had pictured earlier...maybe it was because now we were talking man to man--but he seemed to be a good man I thought.
A year later--that old Jr. leader he had had words with many years before wound up in trouble with the law and in jail. Many people ran the other way from my old friend because of what he had done and the details that came out. I spoke to this man this year and he was abandoned by everyone--everyone except one man that came to visit him--that's right...it was Mr. Fair--he was still fathering, mentoring and had more to teach and give to this man.
I was wrong about Mr. Fair with my early judgements...he was a strong man who stood by others in the fiercest storms of life...he lived not by how myself or others had defined him...but how he walked with God and was willing to go places nobody wanted to go...Working with teenage boys...getting in the middle of problems--he was willing to engage--and stay engaged in the fight...and years later he was still mentoring some of us in a way I didn't understand many years before.
Mr. Fair...Thank you.
Sunday, April 1, 2018
Cutting Stone
Back to the job site...another start to the week. The sun was just peeking above the horizon.
Strange thunderous sounds can be heard close by...I suppose more stone workers starting early--getting a jump on their day too.
Nothing but white stone everywhere as I walk down stairs and descend into the side of the rock. I pick up my tools and start banging away. After lathering up a good sweat and humming a tune to myself...banging rock...cutting stone....suddenly a man is in front of me. I'm guessing he is the new partner they have sent to help me finish this project.
"Extra tools over there for ya" as I point to the corner. The man walks over and bends down and grabs the sledge hammer...he begins to pound away with me---in rhythm. "A lot going on 'round here today" I said. He just kept banging away...seemingly enjoying the physical work.
It's easy to get lost inside your own thoughts with everything happening recently. So much commotion...people happy...people angry...people sad but everyone has strong feelings this week. The past week was kind of a blur....
The man stopped...I can only see his profile but never his full face...
Deliberately he heads up the stairs and outside into the new sunshine. The man speaks with a woman....low talking at first...then she is embracing him like an old friend. "Strange" I thought but I went back to work. Soon he came back and was back to work hammering and pounding the area into submission.
The guards that were here on my last work day are no longer here...and it is very quiet once the woman leaves.
This is not my favorite job for a stone cutter--but it pays the bills. I don't like the thoughts about being here amongst the dead.
The job is moving along quickly with my new partner. He is very quiet but he is a good worker I thought to myself. I wish everyone would partner like this.
"Let's break for lunch" I said. The man headed back outside with me. "Hard to believe all that has happened this week--eh friend?!"
"What do you mean?" asked the fellow stone cutter?
"I mean...the man riding in a week ago as the awaited Messiah...and then by a week later--his crucifixion--the leaders got rid of him quickly..."
"What man is this?" asked the fellow stone cutter.
"The carpenter from Galilee...the man with astute learnedness in all of the books of the law...and a man who was unafraid of the temple leaders...he called it like it was...sometimes kind and gentle fighting to allow the children to come to his side...other times fiercely full of fire to heal the sick--and drive out demons....and compassion--there was nobody like him...he always gave more to others."
"He sounds like quite a man" stated the fellow stone cutter. "Oh--he was" I said....and then I was out to get bread on the morning before the sabbath...and suddenly a man next to me was taken by the Roman guards to carry this man's cross up the long hill."
"The man was a prophet of some sort...yet he couldn't escape their grasp" I said. It's sad that it comes down to the powerful...having the power to do as they wish."
The fellow stone cutter grunted...then stated "Maybe there was a different plan even more powerful than what meets the eye" he stated...
Two men came running up looking like they were racing for their very lives...they raced past and to the tomb next door. Like was shining brightly out from the darkness. "Strange things still happening" I said. "I was told to mind my business and stick to my work....so I have."
"Indeed...and you have done that" stated the fellow stone cutter. "You have carved and pounded and cut out an area for the future dead to be laid" he observed. "You have done what you know to do by trade...skillfully carving through the solid rock."
"It reminds me that since your wife died two years ago...you have been as impenetrable as the very rock you work on."
Shocked at the fellow stone cutter knowing a part of my very own story--I quipped "How do you know these things and who are you?"
I felt a burning in my heart as if a laser had pierced my armor that had long protected my broken heart.
"James...I have come to cut through the stone around your very heart...here...today."
As the fellow stone cutter finished uttering these words he slowly turned and I caught his face and his eyes for the very first time...there was a fire in his eyes like lightning...he placed his massive hand over my chest--over my heart...there were scars on his hands...Suddenly I felt my own heart--pounding strongly--and I was keenly aware of it...it felt as though a weight had dropped off of my chest and shoulders...and instead of just being--just living--I was aware I was alive...and then he was gone.
There were many other stories I heard through the next few days...strange appearances...to the men who rented my upstairs room --and to other women as well.
I can never forget the fellow stone cutter who looked within me and spoke my story---the man who broke through my stone encrusted heart and brought my sorrow out...the man who cut away the stone and brought me back to life.
Strange thunderous sounds can be heard close by...I suppose more stone workers starting early--getting a jump on their day too.
Nothing but white stone everywhere as I walk down stairs and descend into the side of the rock. I pick up my tools and start banging away. After lathering up a good sweat and humming a tune to myself...banging rock...cutting stone....suddenly a man is in front of me. I'm guessing he is the new partner they have sent to help me finish this project.
"Extra tools over there for ya" as I point to the corner. The man walks over and bends down and grabs the sledge hammer...he begins to pound away with me---in rhythm. "A lot going on 'round here today" I said. He just kept banging away...seemingly enjoying the physical work.
It's easy to get lost inside your own thoughts with everything happening recently. So much commotion...people happy...people angry...people sad but everyone has strong feelings this week. The past week was kind of a blur....
The man stopped...I can only see his profile but never his full face...
Deliberately he heads up the stairs and outside into the new sunshine. The man speaks with a woman....low talking at first...then she is embracing him like an old friend. "Strange" I thought but I went back to work. Soon he came back and was back to work hammering and pounding the area into submission.
The guards that were here on my last work day are no longer here...and it is very quiet once the woman leaves.
This is not my favorite job for a stone cutter--but it pays the bills. I don't like the thoughts about being here amongst the dead.
The job is moving along quickly with my new partner. He is very quiet but he is a good worker I thought to myself. I wish everyone would partner like this.
"Let's break for lunch" I said. The man headed back outside with me. "Hard to believe all that has happened this week--eh friend?!"
"What do you mean?" asked the fellow stone cutter?
"I mean...the man riding in a week ago as the awaited Messiah...and then by a week later--his crucifixion--the leaders got rid of him quickly..."
"What man is this?" asked the fellow stone cutter.
"The carpenter from Galilee...the man with astute learnedness in all of the books of the law...and a man who was unafraid of the temple leaders...he called it like it was...sometimes kind and gentle fighting to allow the children to come to his side...other times fiercely full of fire to heal the sick--and drive out demons....and compassion--there was nobody like him...he always gave more to others."
"He sounds like quite a man" stated the fellow stone cutter. "Oh--he was" I said....and then I was out to get bread on the morning before the sabbath...and suddenly a man next to me was taken by the Roman guards to carry this man's cross up the long hill."
"The man was a prophet of some sort...yet he couldn't escape their grasp" I said. It's sad that it comes down to the powerful...having the power to do as they wish."
The fellow stone cutter grunted...then stated "Maybe there was a different plan even more powerful than what meets the eye" he stated...
Two men came running up looking like they were racing for their very lives...they raced past and to the tomb next door. Like was shining brightly out from the darkness. "Strange things still happening" I said. "I was told to mind my business and stick to my work....so I have."
"Indeed...and you have done that" stated the fellow stone cutter. "You have carved and pounded and cut out an area for the future dead to be laid" he observed. "You have done what you know to do by trade...skillfully carving through the solid rock."
"It reminds me that since your wife died two years ago...you have been as impenetrable as the very rock you work on."
Shocked at the fellow stone cutter knowing a part of my very own story--I quipped "How do you know these things and who are you?"
I felt a burning in my heart as if a laser had pierced my armor that had long protected my broken heart.
"James...I have come to cut through the stone around your very heart...here...today."
As the fellow stone cutter finished uttering these words he slowly turned and I caught his face and his eyes for the very first time...there was a fire in his eyes like lightning...he placed his massive hand over my chest--over my heart...there were scars on his hands...Suddenly I felt my own heart--pounding strongly--and I was keenly aware of it...it felt as though a weight had dropped off of my chest and shoulders...and instead of just being--just living--I was aware I was alive...and then he was gone.
There were many other stories I heard through the next few days...strange appearances...to the men who rented my upstairs room --and to other women as well.
I can never forget the fellow stone cutter who looked within me and spoke my story---the man who broke through my stone encrusted heart and brought my sorrow out...the man who cut away the stone and brought me back to life.
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