We were blessed to have in my congregation a carver who has won first prize for his work in national competitions. His primary body of work focuses on birds as the subject matter. But his greatest imprint perhaps stems from a much smaller, seemingly secondary project.
Each year, as our teenagers raised money and awareness about their summer mission trip, the woodworker concentrated in the peaceful solitude of his downstairs workshop on making cross necklaces. He cut two small “beams” out of wood, glued them together to produce a cross no higher than two inches. He stained and varnished each one then threaded a simple piece of white string through the top. On the Sunday we commissioned the youth for their trip, we invited a parent or other significant person to stand with them and place the cross necklace over their head and around their neck. They wore them from that point forward: on the long car ride or in the plane, if the trip was overseas. The simple necklace hung down as they hammered nails, weed-whacked overgrown yards, dug out a compromised septic system (yes, we even did that one year…) or sat on the front porch talking to the owner of the home we were repairing. Even more than the custom T-shirt designed for the group, this cross necklace became our group “branding.”
In the Sunday of commissioning, we urged each young person to give their cross away during the course of the work week. We suggested that they might discern someone who would be particularly blessed by this unexpected gift. When the right person appeared, they lifted the homemade wooden cross over their head and offered it to a surprised recipient. Many times, when the youth led the worship service after returning from their trip, they shared poignant stories of how their gift was received.
Heading out to do their service project, these youth were charged to be observant of who God would bring into their lives .
We were working on a house in Biloxi, Mississippi one year. We worked through Back Bay Mission, an effective and merciful outreach of our denomination in that southern state. Our task was to scrape, prime and paint a home that had suffered from the heat and humidity of the Gulf Coast. The owner did not have the financial means to pay for the upkeep of the house. The first morning some 15 kids and chaperones descended on the home, scrapers and wire brushes in hand. As any professional painter knows, the house looks much worse before it begins to look improved. These enthusiastic laborers vigorously removed flecks of white paint that barely adhered to the baked wood. Drop clothes were in place but it’s difficult to contain small particles of paint that float effortlessly on the breeze. With sweat running down faces and backs, these young people used their tools as if they had scraped houses for ages—which they definitely had not. By the end of the first day, the house looked perfectly horrible. We chaperones praised the kids for a good day’s work. Back at our air-conditioned facility, we quickly ran out of hot water as one volunteer after another jumped into the shower to wash the sweat and dust off their weary bodies.
The second day we arrived at the work site at 7:30 AM, hoping to beat the heat for the first part of the day. As we assigned tasks and headed toward our work zones, the door to the home immediately across the driveway slammed open and a very angry woman stormed out. Yelling at these unsuspecting teens, she gestured toward her black SUV parked 20 feet from the project home..
“Look what you did to my car!”
The houses were close together in this neighborhood. We looked at her well-maintained vehicle and strained to see a fine dust of dried paint that coated the car. She was furious and our young work team was wide-eyed as they listened to her tirade. We apologized profusely and later the director of the mission approached her to make amends. Paying for a car wash that removed the film resolved the crisis. The kids on that side of the project house were mindful of her presence and tried to work neatly and quietly.
Back at the dorm, we talked as a group about her anger. It seemed somewhat ill-placed given that her neighbor was getting a free home refresh at the hands of hard-working volunteers. After years of mission trips, I learned that some folks would get jealous that their neighbor was getting something good and they weren’t. They looked for an excuse to make a stink out of something. Other neighbors would be drawn into the project and express thanks for the goodwill of the high-schoolers. A teaching point that summer was understanding that doing a good deed doesn’t always bring a response of gratitude. For these teens who had worked hard to raise funds and plan for the trip all year, it was a tough lesson.
In our evening worship services we shared stories of the crosses. Had anyone given theirs away that day? What had been the response? How did they feel about giving the cross away? The group grew close as the week flew by. The outburst by the neighbor seemed more distant and the team worked enthusiastically to complete the job.
The last day at the work site, finishing touches were done on the house, the yard, and even some indoor tasks. The home owner provided a good lunch and sat with us as we ate it with gusto and gratitude. We packed the tools into the trailer for the 1,000+ mile journey north. The mood was light and we were proud of what we had accomplished.
As I came around the corner of the house carrying a bucket of brushes, I did a double take. Three of the youth were standing at the side door of the neighbor’s home. The woman with the black SUV was facing them. She was in the doorway and one of the boys was handing her something. She looked surprised and speechless. But she reached out to accept what he was offering. I couldn’t believe it. This trio had decided that she should be given a cross necklace. They understood at a deep level the intent of their commissioning in our worship service. They had been attentive to who God brought into their lives that week in Mississippi. They were able to see that the woman who burst out of her home, mad as a hornet, was a child of God. Looking in on this presentation from a distance, her body seemed relaxed and receptive. There was no trace of anger. No mention of paint flecks. Only humility on the part of the givers and the receiver.
There were many stories to share from that service project. The best part of the long ride home was listening in on the laughter of these good friends as they recounted memorable experiences. There were so many good stories we remembered from that mission trip. But none had a greater impact on our team than the humble presentation of a modest cross necklace by a group of teens who saw God in the face of an angry woman next door.
As faithful Isaiah prophesied, “And a teenager on a service project shall lead them…”
Preaching Life 