The Gospel According to Home Renovation

The Gospel According to Home Renovation

I recently experienced a big change in my life…my wife and I became home owners. We bought a house two miles southeast of the Downtown Campus, originally built in 1897. From out of nowhere, a new desire arose within me to do home improvement and renovation projects. Overnight, my YouTube algorithm changed and it began almost exclusively suggesting DIY tutorial videos for house projects. 

Upon taking possession of the house, I repainted the entire interior of the house within a week. I had paint on the brain; I was either painting, eating, or dreaming about painting that entire week. Shortly afterward, we had our crumbling chimney fixed, the roof replaced, and a rotted out cellar door and stairs redone. Other numerous smaller home projects, as expected with a nearly 130-year-old home, have filled my weekends ever since we became homeowners. Although exhausting and frustrating at times, the feeling of a job well done (or at least done to the best of my ability!) has been an unexpected gift of home ownership.


A Workplace Visit

Around the same time, my fellow pastors and I visited the workplace of someone from our church, Reda Ibrahim, who started a general contracting construction business called RK Contractors. Reda is originally from Egypt and has a passion to help minorities, refugees, displaced persons, and people needing a second chance find their place as professionals. His business’ outstanding work in the Historic Northeast of Kansas City and across our city was recognized by the KC Chamber as one of the top ten small businesses in 2022.

Workplace visits are one of my favorite things about pastoring at Christ Community. Congregants visit my workplace every Sunday, so it’s only fair that I get a chance to see some of their workplaces during the week! As I see where our people spend the majority of their time and talk with them about the joys and challenges of their work, I can help them experience how their work matters to God. More than that, I benefit as I learn about a different industry or occupation outside of my daily experience. This visit with Reda was no different. 


The Four Chapter Story 

At Christ Community, we like to summarize the overall biblical storyline of the good news as The Four Chapter Story: Creation, Fall, Redemption, and Renewal.

Creation: How the world once was and ought to be.

Fall: How the world is broken and needs redemption.

Redemption: How what’s broken can be fixed through Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection.

Renewal: How the world will be when Jesus returns and completes our redemption.

The four words ought, is, can, will are a great way to remember this story and communicate it to others in a natural way.

Each time pastors visit someone’s workplace, we love to talk through their work using the lens of the Four Chapter Story. We talk about what their work ought to be like, what it is like because of sin and brokenness, how Jesus can redeem their work, and what their work will one day look like when Jesus makes everything right.

While eating lunch with Reda’s crew, we started talking about their work through the lens of The Four Chapter Story, and I was touched by their insight. As a new amateur home project DIYer, I was excited to hang out with the professionals, but I got even more out of this experience than I originally had expected!


The Gospel According to Home Renovation

Initially, the theological concepts of Creation, Fall, Redemption, and Renewal weren’t landing in our conversation, but all of a sudden it clicked for one of Reda’s crew members. He remarked how their work is almost a mirror image to The Four Chapter Story. They step into a run down home that was originally built for and ought to be a safe and beautiful place for a family to live. But over time, through neglect and broader systemic brokenness in our city, that building falls into disrepair and is ugly, dangerous, and not usable as a home. Reda and his team work toward restoring that house because they believe it can be a home again. As they work through the fixes and renovations with all the ups and downs, they look forward to the end goal of what the house will be like when it is fully restored, and another family makes it their home.


Our Hearts Long for Redemption

What a beautiful picture of the good news! Theologians have long marveled how God, as Creator and Sustainer of all things, has placed echoes of his good news story of redemption and restoration throughout the world. One marker of this is the human fascination with fixing and restoring physical things, especially homes. Whether you are a professional tradesmen or an amateur DIYer, whether you have a home that is being renovated or you just binge home improvement videos in your free time, there is something about being human that longs for and delights in seeing something restored. This points outside itself to the redeeming work of God as he is making a broken, ugly world beautiful and whole again.

May this truth turn us to praise and worship God, the Ultimate Renovator, as we do this work ourselves or are blessed by this work from others!

How Do You Cultivate a Resilient Relationship?

How Do You Cultivate a Resilient Relationship?

In every relationship there is one constant. Whether it be friends, coworkers, neighbors, parents, one’s spouse or children, at some point in time, one will fail the other. It may be intentional or unintentional. It may be big or small. But you will fail someone close to you, and someone close to you will fail you. 

Right here, in the face of an inevitable failure, is when relationships have the highest likelihood of coming to an end. Often all it takes is a single offense to undo years of intimacy. Friend groups dismantle. Marriages dissolve. Collaborative partnerships come unhinged. Failure happens in every relationship, and all too often it means the relationship is over.

Forgiveness isn’t the goal

Where does one go from that place? I used to think failed relationships could be mended if people merely learned to forgive each other, but I was wrong. Forgiveness alone can’t fix a relationship. 

To be clear, forgiveness is necessary. Jesus calls every one of His followers to model a lifestyle of forgiveness. Christians who cannot forgive others should check whether they have experienced forgiveness from God (Matthew 6:14-15). On top of that, we are called to forgive not just here and there, but with such regularity that we lose count (Matthew 18:22). We are to have open hands with offenses and let go of wrongs with diligence. And yet, as difficult as forgiveness may be, it is not enough to repair a relationship. 

The problem with making forgiveness the goal of healing strained relationships is that it makes confession the only means. Confession is certainly an essential part of mending relational fallout. Confession is a way for the one who has committed an offense (or is a member of a group or corporation that has committed an offense) to own their failure by “naming ownership of the thing” that brought fissure. Ownership is essential for the offender to name and for the offended to witness. 

But when forgiveness is the goal and confession the only means, then relational mending is a one time transaction that can make the offender feel absolution has been achieved while the offended is still emotionally (and possibly physically) wrestling through the pain of the original offense. This sort of forgiveness may very well be the grounds for a sense of freedom from the offense for the offender, but it will not necessarily restore the relationship for both parties.

In a culture of hyper-individualism, relational immaturity and an underlying expectation that everything we want should come with the click of a button, this can be hard to accept.  

While both parties may share a common perspective over what created the distance between them, it will not necessarily reestablish their former relationship. In some circumstances such efforts can actually create more relational distance when this dynamic isn’t acknowledged. 

As a pastor, I’ve seen this take place with a husband who has cheated on his wife, and having confessed to the affair and apologized, becomes enraged and wonders why she can’t “just treat him normal” from now on. “I said I was sorry, ok?! Why can’t you let it go?!” His failure to acknowledge how his previous sin continues to cause pain — even when she has extended forgiveness — actually may cultivate a sense of insecurity leading her to fear that her husband may commit the same sin again: “Was he just saying sorry so we don’t have to talk about it anymore, or is he really sorry and wants to change?”

As a pastor in our city, I’ve seen the same dynamic in conversations regarding race relations and the history of racial injustice in the United States. When historic injustices that have lingering effects are brought up, a common trope from some is “Why can’t they just move on?! That took place so many years ago!” This kind of response communicates a lack of genuineness in remorse and an unwillingness to listen. Is it any wonder that our city and nation are still so separated? 

Forgiveness is necessary, but it neither shuts off the valve of pain nor completes the work of restoration. Confession is necessary, but it is not sufficient. 

Resilience needs more

So how can we cultivate relationships that press through failure? What is the path to cultivating resilient relationships?

Every relationship that endures through failure requires an additional step: the important move through confession to repentance. While confession owns one’s guilt over a past action, repentance works toward actions of life for the other. Confession longs to receive absolution. Repentance longs to engage in the long-suffering work of repair. Confession can be perceived as a one and done transaction. Repentance accepts that a cyclical and ongoing journey is necessary.  

In some relationships, the most we can hope for in the short term is forgiveness. Much like Paul and John Mark (Acts 15:36-39), we end a relationship with an empty ledger of offenses but choose not to continue on in the relationship. For those relationships we long to see last, we need to go beyond absolution and do the enduring work of restoration. And for that, we need more than confession and forgiveness. We need repentance and repair for both parties. 

A well worn path

Examples of this are seen throughout the biblical storyline. It’s etched into the Old Testament law given to Israel to guide them into communal flourishing (e.g. Exodus 22, Isaiah 58). It was practiced by leaders like King David who had a heart like God’s in navigating national injustices (2 Samuel 21). It’s what John the Baptist proclaims to prepare the way for Jesus (Luke 3:1-6). Zacchaeus lives this out in establishing a radical financial repayment plan after which Jesus says, “Salvation has come to this house” (Luke 19:1-10).

This was also carried out in the early church. In the early African church, we find the Canon of Hippolytus (4th Century A.D.), a book on church order as believers sought to live out the teaching of the Apostles. There were certain vocations that were not accepted in the early church because of how they maligned or abused neighbors. In some cases baptism was forbidden unless it could be established that they had left such vocations by the testimony of three witnesses.

If it was found that they had returned to a destructive line of work, they were barred from the church community. Injustice was simply not tolerated. It was not a place where you could just live life any which way and still remain in the fellowship. And when were they allowed to return to membership in good standing? It wasn’t after education, confession and forgiveness. Rather “they are to be excluded from the church until they repent with tears, fasting, and alms.” Repentance and repair revealed in everyday life.

In Work and Worship: Reconnecting our Labor and our Liturgy, Matthew Kaemingk and Cory Wilson comment on this early church practice. They write, “…the worker’s road to redemption runs primarily through liturgical practices—not theological education. Through the liturgical practices of tears, fasting, and alms, the worker is ultimately restored to the worshipping community.” 

Too much?

This response may seem outlandish or over the top. Frankly, most of the biblical characters and writings seem absurd to a world that downplays evil and so downplays the long suffering necessity of restoring and cultivating resilient relationships. We want what Bonhoeffer warns against as cheap grace or an easy believism that erroneously justifies doing anything we want to do with the assurance of absolution (Romans 6:1-2). 

Rather, Christians are to have a robust appreciation for the complexity of sin and the pervasiveness of evil within relationships and cultures, so we don’t approach God and others transactionally. We don’t come just wanting to get absolution, but actually seek reconciliation through the road of costly repentance. All of this has us humbly crying out for “more grace” (James 4:6).

So what about you? Me? Is it too much to ask of us?

If you want to cultivate resilient relationships, don’t just come with confession looking for absolution. Come with a posture of repentance ready to repair and go down the long road of rebuilding. It takes longer than we often want to give, but what you get are restored relationships, enduring community and genuine intimacy.

And for that we should be willing to give everything. Again. And again. 

A Day of Prayer and Fasting – Contending for Restoration

A Day of Prayer and Fasting – Contending for Restoration


Imagine you’re gathered with friends—maybe your community group or Bible study group. You are talking about spiritual disciples—prayer, Bible study, generosity, stuff like that—and then someone says But what about fasting? Is that something gospel Christians should do? Isn’t fasting just a way of trying to earn favor with God? Isn’t fasting more of a Catholic or Muslim thing that evangelical Christians should stay away from?”

How would you respond? Maybe you’ve thought those same things and had those same questions. I have, so I decided to find some answers and perspective. 

First let’s consider why Christians fast, and then how Christians fast. (Note: If you’re already convinced of the why of fasting, feel free to skip down to the how section.)

Why fast?

First, the why—why specifically would or should a Christian fast? And also what do we mean by “fasting”? 

It has become common to use the language of fasting to talk about taking a break from Facebook or Netflix or even just a certain type of food (i.e., I’m fasting from chocolate or beer). But this confuses the broader (and very important) category of “abstaining” (from Netflix, spending, sex, beer, etc.) with a very specific type of abstaining, namely, abstaining from eating.

Historically (and medically) the language of fasting means to abstain from eating any food for a period of time. And by that definition you already fast everyday—at night while you are asleep. (Unless you’re a sleepwalker who also sleep-eats—which is a real thing!) So when we talk about fasting here, we are specifically talking about abstaining from all food for a period of time.

So that’s what we mean by fasting. But why would a Christian do it? People from different religions and cultures throughout history have fasted. Even today there is an increasingly popular movement of fasting for the many health benefits it provides. However, are there specifically Christian reasons to fast (or not fast)? 

Going back to the case study we began with, someone might argue that fasting for health reasons is fine but fasting as part of how a person relates to God is where the questions arise. 

In light of that, what might be the rationale not to fast? I think there are two main reasons why someone should not fast. First, medical reasons. If you have health issues (e.g., uncontrolled diabetes) that would make it dangerous to your health, you shouldn’t fast. If you’re battling an eating disorder, you shouldn’t fast. If you’re a child who is growing and developing, fasting isn’t for you either. Likewise women who are pregnant or breastfeeding shouldn’t fast. 

Second, there are religious reasons not to fast. If you view fasting as a way of “earning” God’s favor or as a way of forcing or compelling God to do something for you—God, I’ve done this (fasted) for you, now you must do this for me (heal me, get me a job)—then you shouldn’t fast.    

But there are good, biblical, Christian reasons to fast (beyond the health benefits). Here are my top three: Jesus’ example, Jesus teaching, the church’s witness.

Jesus’ Example
As disciples, apprentices, and learners of Jesus who have taken on His yoke (Matthew 11:28-30), we seek to follow our Master’s pattern of life. And Jesus’ pattern of life included prayer, solitude, self-emptying service, and also fasting. Specifically, we see Jesus fasting in the wilderness for forty days while He is tempted by the Evil One (Matthew 4 and Luke 4). 

But one might rightly respond that Jesus did lots of things—raising the Lazarus from the dead, dying on the cross for the sins of all humanity—that I’m not supposed to replicate in my own life. Isn’t His fasting (including from water!) in the wilderness for forty days one of those things? It’s true that a forty day absolute fast (i.e., no food or water) required miraculous intervention. 

And if all we had was this one example of Jesus’ forty day absolute fast, we would probably be right to conclude that fasting was more like dying on the cross for the sins of all humanity than praying or solitude. But we don’t just have Jesus’ example. We also have His teaching.

Jesus Teaching
There are two key passages in which Jesus teaches about fasting. The first is in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 6:1-18. Here Jesus talks about giving, praying, and fasting, and how His followers are to practice these things but do so differently than the “hypocrites.”  

Each section opens with when you give, when you pray, when you fast—not if. Jesus seems to assume His followers will give, pray, and fast. What they should not do is practice those things to be seen and admired by other people. Rather, they should do them for the joy and delight of the Father who sees and rewards what is done in “secret.”

The other key passage is Luke 5:33-35. Here Jesus is responding to a question about why His followers don’t fast. Here’s the conversation:

33 They [the Pharisees and the teachers of the law] said to him [Jesus], “John’s disciples often fast and pray, and so do the disciples of the Pharisees, but yours go on eating and drinking.” 34 Jesus answered, “Can you make the friends of the bridegroom fast while he is with them? 35 But the time will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them; in those days they will fast.”

The key is verse 35. Jesus’ disciple feasted then because Jesus the bridegroom, the king, was with them. But when He is taken away, then they will fast. Darrell Bock, perhaps one of today’s foremost scholars on the Gospel of Luke explains:

Jesus’ point is that fasting will again become appropriate and an option in the intermediate period [after His death, resurrection, and ascension], as the church longs for the return and final fulfillment. The tone is important. Jesus allows the return of fasting but he does not regulate it or make it a test of spirituality. The church may have a variety in practice without requiring conformity (Bock, Luke, vol. 1, 518).

To this, John Piper is in his fantastic book on fasting, A Hunger for God, adds this insight:

It is true that Jesus has given the Holy Spirit in his absence, and that the Holy Spirit is “the Spirit of Jesus” (Acts 16:7; 2 Corinthians 3:17). So in a profound and wonderful sense Jesus is still with us…. Nevertheless, there is a greater degree of intimacy that we will enjoy with Christ in heaven when this age is over. So in another sense Christ is not with us, but away from us…. In other words, in this age there is an ache inside every Christian that Jesus is not here as fully and intimately and as powerfully and as gloriously as we want him to be. We hunger for so much more. That is why we fast.

So Jesus’ example and teaching provide Christians with good reasons to fast, and finally, we also have the church’s witness.

The church’s witness
Just as Jesus said they would after His death, resurrection, and accession, the church adopted the practice of fasting. We see a key example in Acts 13. This example is particularly significant because of where it occurs and who participates. 

Acts 13 opens with the commissioning of Paul and Barnabus as they begin a venture to expand communities of Jesus followers among non-Jewish peoples in the Roman Empire. Already the church in Antioch, where this episode takes place, is a multiethnic church composed of Jews and non-Jews. 

This is significant for many reasons, but for our questions about fasting it is significant because it shows that fasting was not just something practiced only by Jewish Christians. Here’s the passage:

Acts 13:1   Now there were in the church at Antioch prophets and teachers, Barnabas, Simeon who was called Niger, Lucius of Cyrene, Manaen a lifelong friend of Herod the tetrarch, and Saul. 2 While they were worshiping the Lord and fasting, the Holy Spirit said, “Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.” 3 Then after fasting and praying they laid their hands on them and sent them off.

This multiethnic community included fasting as part of their practice of prayer and worship. Scholars point out that the they in this passage likely refers not just to those individuals named but to the whole church. The Apostle Paul also describes his own experience with fasting in 2 Corinthians 6:5 and 11:27.  

But a thoughtful reader of the Scriptures might ask about Colossians 2:20-23. Is Paul prohibiting fasting?

20   If with Christ you died to the elemental spirits of the world, why, as if you were still alive in the world, do you submit to regulations— 21 “Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch” 22 (referring to things that all perish as they are used)—according to human precepts and teachings? 23 These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-made religion and asceticism and severity to the body, but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh. (2:20-23)

John Piper’s response is worth reading at length. In response to questions about Colossians he writes this:

Christian fasting is not self-wrought discipline that tries to deserve more from God. It is a hunger for God awakened by the taste of God freely given in the gospel…. 

Fasting is not a no to the goodness of food or the generosity of God in providing it. Rather, it is a way of saying, from time to time, that having more of the Giver surpasses having the gift…. Christian fasting is the effect of what Christ has already done for us and in us. It is not our feat, but the Spirit’s fruit. Recall that the last-mentioned fruit of the Spirit is “self-control” (Galatians 5:23). 

[The Apostle Paul directs our] …attention toward fasting and numerous other kinds of self-denial—not as meritorious religious rituals, and not as an end in themselves, but as a weapon in the fight of faith… (A Hunger for God: Desiring God through Fasting and Prayer, 45-46).

Christians fast not to get love from God but because they know they are loved by God. They fast not to atone for their sins but to enjoy more deeply the presence of the One who has forgiven them.

That’s the why of Christian fasting. But what about the how?

How to fast

At one level the how of fasting is painfully simple: don’t eat food. Congratulations! You’ve fasted. But the trouble we have in the how is less with the simple part and more with the painful part. What do I do when I start to feel hangry? Am I supposed to be miserable when I’m doing this? 

Just because something is hard doesn’t mean it’s not good. I’ve never found financial generosity to be particularly easy. But it is good. And I do find joy in it. Likewise, I’ve never found fasting to be easy, but I have found joy in it. 

Okay. So we shouldn’t expect fasting to be easy, but it also shouldn’t be agony. The point is not to cause ourselves suffering but to demonstrate with our actions that God is even more important to us than food. That we trust in Him more than we trust in food. Just like our financial generosity also is a way of demonstrating our trust in God that He will provide for us. (Isn’t it interesting that “dough” is a figure of speech we use to talk about food and money. Just saying…) 

But there is something that makes fasting particularly difficult for us today, and that is the type and amount of food we eat. Most of us tend to eat soon after we wake up and then eat and snack until we go to bed. Also the food that we eat and snack on tends to be high in sugar and carbohydrates. Both of those things—constant eating throughout the day and the high sugar/carb content of the food we eat—make fasting harder than it needs to be. 

Additionally, because we rarely experience the sensation of hunger without immediately grabbing a granola bar or banana to alleviate it, we tend to think that that hunger will just get worse and worse until we collapse and die. But hunger doesn’t work like that. And it is as much a physiological reality as a physical one. 

We get hungry at certain times of day because we always eat at certain times of day. If we are able to move through those times of day without eating, the hunger doesn’t keep building and building. It eventually subsides (if even it doesn’t totally disappear) until the next meal/snack time. In that way hunger is more like a tide that comes in and then goes out again, rather than a flood that just keeps rising and rising until you drown.  

So what’s the best way to begin fasting if you’ve never done it before? I would suggest you start by skipping either breakfast or dinner. When you skip one of those meals and combine that with time you are asleep it is (relatively) easy to stack-up 16+ hours of fasting. For example, if you finished your dinner at 6:30 PM on Wednesday evening and didn’t eat again until noon on Thursday you will have fasted for 17.5 hours. Or if you finished lunch on Wednesday at 12:30 PM and didn’t eat again until 8:00 AM on Thursday, you will have fasted 19.5 hours. 

I’ve found personally that skipping breakfast is easier for me then skipping dinner. But experiment and find out what works best for you. Once you have some experience with those 16-19 hours fasts, you can try a longer fast of 24 or 36 hours. Jay Richard’s book Eat, Fast, Feast: Heal Your Body While Feeding Your Soul—A Christian Guide to Fasting is the most helpful resource I’ve found in developing a physically sustainable pattern of fasting.

One other question you may have is can I or should I tell others that I am fasting? We struggle with this one because of Jesus teaching on secrecy in the Sermon on the Mount. It is important to remember that there Jesus was combating a motive of being seen and praised by others. The reality is that with close friends and family members, you’ll need to tell them your fasting so that when you don’t sit down to dinner or breakfast they understand why. That’s okay. Tell them. Just don’t do it out of pride or to get them to think more highly of you.

My hope is that you will find a new freedom, joy, and intimacy with Jesus in the practice of fasting. I certainly have. Below are few resources that have helped me on my journey with food and fasting.


Best overall book on fasting


Best book on biblical basis for and spiritual benefits of fasting: 


Best book the on medical and science basis for fasting: 


Best on getting a handle on the power of food in our lives:

Family Guide to Prayer and Fasting (Christ Community Church):

  • Suggestions and guides on safe ways to help children understand fasting. –  HANDOUT
Restoring God’s Good World…One Bathroom at a Time

Restoring God’s Good World…One Bathroom at a Time

It was February, and I was cold. Growing up in southern California, I’ve still never really gotten used to winters in the midwest. One hand gripped the steering wheel, the other held my phone in an attempt to find the restaurant for my next appointment (I know, I know, I shouldn’t). I held it near the heater vent, because again, I’m cold. I’m in Lee’s Summit, so I have no idea where I am. It’s 6:30am and I’m pounding coffee. 

I finally say uncle and pull over to text my friend Curtis. That’s who I am meeting. “Where you at? I’m in the Aldi parking lot.” His reply is quick: “I’m in the Perkins lot in the big truck. Can’t miss it.” 

I look around and immediately see Curtis’ truck. It’s big and white and paneled with compartments and drawers, each filled, I think, with tools and supplies I have never even thought about, let alone used. And there is Curtis, standing out in the cold. Smiling and waving. 

I pull up, park the car, and get out. I shake Curtis’ hand. He’s already got a whole cart full of stuff unloaded from the truck. “Ok. Let’s get to work.” 

Curtis is a plumber. At this moment back in February, he was studying to be a master plumber, a certification that would increase his pay and opportunity. I’ve known Curtis for a long time, almost the whole time my family has lived in Kansas City. I’d even had him out to my house a few times to help with our kitchen drain that always seems to clog. But I had never visited him at work. 

When I asked, weeks before, if that were possible, I did so with fear and trepidation. I knew it would mean a job-site visit, working with my hands, trying to help (emphasis on the “trying”). I didn’t want to slow Curtis down or put him in an awkward spot. But of course, he said yes. That’s the kind of guy he is. 

So we walk into Perkins, a small restaurant. Lots of regulars. And Curtis points out the store manager. She’s got her hair up, sleeves rolled, ready for work. She is managing staff, filling out a ledger, and helping customers at the counter all at the same time, when she catches eyes with Curtis. She looks both exhausted from the morning’s to-do list and grateful that Curtis is there. They exchange a witty banter, and I realize that they know each other pretty well. This is Curtis’ fifth or sixth trip to the store to fix the same problem: a bad sewer smell in the men’s restroom. 

As Curtis tells the manager what we are going to do, she gave me a quizzical look, and you are? Curtis saw and quickly said: “Oh this is Andrew. He’s my pastor. I’m going to teach him how to actually work today.” She laughed. Looking at what I was wearing and the uncertainty with which I pulled Curtis’ supplies, she knew what he meant. 

We put a sign on the door that we were working and corralled the cart into the men’s restroom. That was the first time I really noticed what was in it: a new urinal. The other thing I noticed right away was the smell. It was not pleasant. 

Curtis started explaining the problem to me. Months ago, when he’d first been called in, the manager told him that this smell had been a problem for years. They just could not diagnose the source. So Curtis began telling me everything he had done up to now: smoke tests to find leaks, discovering shoddy drywall work that had punctured holes in pipes, all the way to this urinal. He thought it might not be sealed well against the wall, so he’d bought a new one with every kind of wax seal imaginable, just in case. 

He walked me through how to do the job. It was incredibly simple for him and really hard for me. I’m not the handiest guy in the world anyway, so this was a stretch. What stood out to me throughout was that every instruction and explanation Curtis gave along the way related to something I had just never thought about before. The way this screw on top regulates the pressure. Why this washer has to go here and not there or the seal won’t work. Eventually I realized that I use a bathroom every day. Multiple times a day. And I never knew how intricate, how nuanced, the equipment is designed to be. 

When we got the urinal installed, we tested it a few times. Seemed good to go. I told Curtis I couldn’t smell the odor anymore. He laughed and said, “that’s because you’ve been in here for twenty minutes. Leave and come back, it’ll still be here. We need more time to know if it worked.” 

As we exited the bathroom, the store manager talked more with Curtis. He showed her the bill for his work, and she happily signed. Of all the work they had done on that bathroom, she said, Curtis had made the most progress. I just hoped that my presence wouldn’t break the streak. 

The store manager thanked Curtis again (as had a few customers who knew what he was working on, one of whom had come in the bathroom earlier and said, “Oh yeah! That smell’s been here forever! You’ll be my hero if you fix it”). You could tell, even as the manager scampered away to put out another fire, that she liked Curtis and knew that he really cared about solving the problem, making the restaurant a little bit homier, serving the customers a little bit better. 

I don’t think being a plumber was Curtis’ first choice for career. He even considered the pastorate at one point. But he was good at this, had lots of opportunity in it, and it provided for his wife and three kids. He also senseed God’s pleasure in it: helping solve real issues for people in very tangible ways. 

As one who lives and breathes in a lot of white collar circles, I completely understood his point. There just aren’t many jobs anymore where you turn off the lights and look back, and there’s something done, fixed, accomplished. Curtis had that. 

Of course, it had downsides, too. Bad customers. Hard work. Frustrating issues that challenged and defied his expertise. Hours beyond his control, and a weekly schedule that changes all the time. But despite the brokenness, I got the sense Curtis really likes what he does.  

We spent more time together with one of his suppliers and talked a little more. Eventually, we looked at watches and realized it was time to go. He had more jobs to do around the city. I had a sermon to write. I tried to share a few thoughts with him and encourage him in his calling for the common good. We prayed together, bro-hugged, and parted ways. 

I’ve done a lot of workplace visits, and I love every one of them for lots of different reasons. But even now, months later, this one keeps coming back to me. Or perhaps I should say, God keeps bringing it back to me. There’s something here God wanted me to see, and perhaps say to Curtis himself. Something maybe I missed when we were together at Perkins that day.  

After lots of thought and reflection, I think that something is this:

“Curtis, going into messy places, places people avoid, don’t talk about, don’t think about, to solve complicated problems that take years to fix, requiring patience, endurance, creativity, and a strong stomach, in order to meet real needs of people who may never thank you or acknowledge what you’ve done, with an infectious and inexplicable joy, might be the most Christlike job description I can think of. And you, Curtis—and countless like you—do it every day. Stop shaking your head! Just let me finish. On your best days, maybe you see that. On your regular days, like the rest of us, it probably just feels normal. Most of the time, you see it as an honest day’s work. For one day, because you let me in, I saw the restoration of God’s good world. We can both be right.” 

P.S. I can happily announce that Curtis is now a certified master plumber! But he’s still working on that Perkins problem. Say a prayer for him, will you?