Friday, January 5, 2007

Love without limits

As a young man, having just accepted the Lord at age 24, I was in informal apprenticeship in cabinetry to Philip, a man 32 years my senior, who became my spiritual father in every sense of the word. He was and still is my standard for what Christian manhood looks like.

Even though we both worked in an old inner city furniture factory and both on the time clock (though he was, in fact, the foreman of the whole shop), we both worked "off the clock" several times a week. He did it to make up for deficiencies and mistakes by the "crew". I did it because I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.

One example of the love he showed…

A young co-worker was assigned the task of machine mortising a cart load of bed posts. Philip or I set up the machine. The fellow started off well, but somewhere along the way he got distracted and started putting the pieces into place the wrong way. By the time anyone noticed, thirty or more posts had mortises in the wrong place.

Philip passed by and immediately saw what was happening (I was following him). He said, "Norman, take Joe over to the parts racks and have him start putting away parts, it looks like he needs a break from this boring job!"

I grabbed the guy by the shoulder and said, "C'mon, let's go!" as Philip quickly moved the cart of ruined parts out of the way and covered them with a tarp, so the manager wouldn't see them. Then, when I got back, I finished mortising the bed posts that were left.

After work, Philip and I "punched out" and hung around till everyone was gone. Then we dragged out the cart of spoiled work, cut plugs, glued and hammered them into place, drum sanded them flush, and then lickedy-split Philip mortised the whole load, while I assisted him by offloading them. All this took about 2 hours. By then, it was dark.

Next morning, everything was ready to go, and no one but Philip and I knew how. What happened to the boy who made the mistake? Philip never told him. He got moved to jobs requiring less concentration. Philip tried to match every man under his care with jobs that suited the capabilities of each.

After working closely with this man for four years, the company closed and the equipment sold off piece by piece. Portland's furniture industry days were over, moved to the South. I got a new job as a cabinetmaker, Philip retired early.

Within the year, when I was home in Illinois visiting my Mother for (what we later learned would be) the last time, Philip quietly passed away. His wife came home from work one afternoon, noticed him sitting in his favorite chair in the basement rec room, and when she went to talk to him, found he was "gone."

Love without limits, without drawing attention to itself, quiet, strong, consistent love.
Love that he received from his Master, he was quick to pass on to others.

1 Corinthians 13

2 comments:

Randy Hurst said...

Authentic expressions of love come at a price, don't they Romanós? Whether it is manifested in the gift of time, "sweat equity", or the silence of anonymity; one must crucify the natural inclinations to degrade, berate, or belittle others for our own positioning. The heart of this event in your life for me was the humility of the compassion. No one got glory for being good. Oh, for more foremen that are For Men.

Be Blessed,

Randy

Ρωμανός ~ Romanós said...

Yeah, that black and white photo is me at about the age of 28, using the old band saw at Sterling Furniture. I'd forgotten that my beard was as long as it is in that photo till just now, and now at 58 years old I am back to wearing my beard long, only it's white with a spray of auburn strays here and there. I still have that little knitted cap, though, and I still sometimes wear it.