Hey, Cobblestone,
I remember vividly the day I became a wage-earning machinist,
transitioning from a vocational school student to the real world of shaping
metals. The memory is sharp mostly because the day didn’t go so well. I was the
first trade school student to co-op in the shop; this was a grand experiment
for my new employer. The shop supervisor, Mr. Herman Ulrich, led me to an old
Monarch engine lathe, pointed to a chunk of steel bar stock on a nearby skid,
and said, “Rough it down to 4 inches.” And then he walked away. The date was
January 8, 1979… a Monday.
The task was simple enough; I had already done far more
intricate work at school. But next to the raw stock was the piece we were
replacing, and I decided I would make the new one just like it. I found the
correct measuring instrument, applied a little finesse, and got it within a
thousandth of an inch – at which point it was scrap. When Herman came back, he
made that known to me in no uncertain terms.
What I hadn’t taken into account was that the mating part
hadn’t been reconditioned yet. Its shape would change, and my part would have
to work with the new shape. The grand experiment was a flop, and I was sure my
one-day employer would go back to hiring only experienced machinists.
In this third installment of the “Apprenticeship” series, I
hope to foster belief in one of the most important aspects of the
Master/apprenticeship arrangement: the Master is worthy of honor, and in giving
honor, the apprentice will be actively practicing humility.
There’s a small section of John’s Gospel that I try to keep
in mind at all times:
About the middle of the
feast Jesus went up into the temple and began teaching. The Jews
therefore marveled, saying, “How is it that this man has
learning, when he has never studied?” So Jesus answered
them, “My teaching is not mine, but his who sent me. If anyone's
will is to do God's will, he will know whether the teaching is from
God or whether I am speaking on my own authority. The one who speaks
on his own authority seeks his own glory; but the one who seeks the glory
of him who sent him is true, and in him there is no falsehood (John 7:14-18).
As often as I can remember, I pray a prayer based on what
Jesus said and did there, something like, “Jesus, keep showing me how to work
for the honor and glory of the one who sent me – wow, the same one who sent you: our Father in heaven. Use me as a
man of truth, with nothing false about me.” From there, I check frequently to
see if I’m cooperating in the answer to my own prayer.
The quickest way to destroy a good apprenticeship is with
arrogance. And arrogance, though we tend to think of it as something completely
obvious, is actually sneakier than we give it credit for. Arrogance happens in
the absence of humility. Active humility is the antidote to arrogance. Working
for one’s own honor and glory is the default position – to honor the Master,
that circuit has to be turned off first, and the active humility circuit turned
on. Feel free to borrow my prayer or compose your own, but please don’t let the
default have its way. If Jesus was so quick to point to the Father – look
again: he didn’t skip a beat – we can be quick, too.
Among the apostles, Peter generally gets the ribbon for “Most
Improved,” which may be true, but I give the one marked “Most Like Jesus from
the Get-Go” to John. It shows up in the Gospel he was inspired to write, and in
his letters. John gets my vote as the one most willing to practice the active
humility necessary for honoring the Master. In the intro to his first letter,
he testifies to what we have
heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon
and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life (John
1:1). He’s diligent in making sure that what we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may
have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and
with his Son Jesus Christ (verse 3). Ever and always, he honors the Master.
Along with honoring the Master in his first letter, John also
has a word about apprentices. It’s easy to miss, so I’ll call it out:
My little children, I
am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does
sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the
righteous. He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only
but also for the sins of the whole world. And by this we know that we
have come to know him, if we keep his commandments… whoever says
he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked (1John 2:1-3, 6).
And then he writes:
Beloved, I am writing
you no new commandment, but an old commandment that you had from
the beginning. The old commandment is the word that you have heard. At the
same time, it is a new commandment that I am writing to you, which is true
in him and in you, because the darkness is passing away and the true
light is already shining (verses 7-8).
The true light is already shining… which is true in (Jesus) and in
you. And in you, Christian, as a Christ-like one. Apprentices can do good
and gainful work on behalf of the Master. We’re not meant to wait for the
“journeyman’s card” to turn out the first good part. On that cold and frightful
Monday in January of ’79, yeah, I got off to a rough start, but before the
shift was over I was making goods that could be sold to the customer. After a
dose of discipline from Herman, I was ready to do what he had actually told me
to do. The true light is already shining
– by way of our fellowship with one another and indeed with the Father and his
Son Jesus Christ, our job, in honoring the Master, is to make the darkness pass
away at the fastest possible rate… beginning right-the-heck here,
right-the-heck now.
What do you need to get through today’s shift, and honor the
Master along the way? Discipline? Encouragement in the Lord? Holy Spirit animation?
All of the above? He is the faithful Master and Teacher. He intends for his
apprentices to turn out good work and gain experience. Just ask.
Eventually, the majority of the workforce in the shop was
made up of us hot-shots from the county’s two vocational schools. Turns out I
didn’t spoil the plan altogether. And I worked there myself for twenty-five
years, and left on the best of terms when it was time to go. But boy, did it
take some hard lessons in humility! The sooner those were learned, the better.
In the same way, the sooner we learn to honor the Master by doing what he has
actually set us to do, the more helpful and rewarding our apprenticeships will
be.
Grace and Peace (for today’s shift),
John
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