(A Christmas story)

 

THE TINKER

arrived unexpectedly. He carried no passport. No special papers. He appeared normal enough. People thought they knew who he was. But they didn’t. They believed he was like everyone else. But he wasn’t. Not at all.

 

Some tinkers are unskilled and unthinking. They can more accurately be called “bunglers.” They fiddle with things. After all, if no one seems able to fix it, what is there to lose? Give the tinker a chance. If his ability to repair equals his ability to swear, maybe it won’t be a total loss.

 

And sometimes the tinker gets lucky. Sometimes he makes things work again. Sometimes.

 

The itinerant mender of things has no place to call home, but you hardly notice he is there, blending as he does into each day’s backdrop of pain and poverty. Yet when he happens by, there is always a need. A knife to sharpen. A door to adjust. A chair to repair. A harness to fix. A gate to replace. And after he goes on his way, life seems better somehow for his having been there. It’s probably because broken things have been mended. Life goes better when broken things are made to work again.

 

Perhaps you know his name. Then again, maybe not. It doesn’t matter, really. After all, he’s only a tinker. Nothing more. He’s not important. He’ll never lead armies or oversee governments or advise merchants in the marketplace. He’s a tinker, for goodness sake. A fixer of things that are broken. That’s all.

 

THAT’S WHY WHEN HE ARRIVED

no one actually noticed. Only a handful knew the promise of his special skills. No one else cared. The people of the land were looking for someone else. They wanted a commander to lead armies. Someone to deliver them from oppression. A wise and gifted leader. A person to stand against the oppressor. That’s what they wanted.

 

But they got a Tinker.

 

IT WASN’T UNTIL MUCH LATER

people began noticing the difference. They were sure they knew he was so-and-so’s son. He grew up in their neck of the woods, didn’t he? A poor family. No extra privileges. One man laughed at the idea that he was someone special. After all, wasn’t he sitting on a stool that the Tinker had made? Another drew water with a bucket, the handle of which had been repaired by this Fixer of Things. They knew him all right. At least they thought they did.

 

But the more they watched, the more they noticed something unusual about him. They gaped as he adjusted the chemical structures of water, turning it into the finest of wines. They saw him fix a leper’s hand. They wondered as he restored self-worth and value to a woman possessing few recognizable moral qualities. They looked on while he mended broken hearts. They marveled as he gave back life that seemed forever lost. They stared in amazement as he took their little and turned it into much.

 

And they asked one another, Who is this man?

 

Some thought he might be a patriarch from the past. Others were sure he was an ancient prophet come back to life. A few perceived him to be an indigent rabble-rouser, bent only on destroying the power structures they had come to depend upon.

 

THERE WERE LOT’S OF THEORIES

but one thing all who watched him knew for sure.

 

This was no ordinary fixer.

 

Living and walking among them was a most unusual man.

 

A Tinker sent from God![1]

 

 

 

On the Sabbath, he gave a lecture in the meeting place. He made a real hit, impressing everyone. “We had no idea he was this good!” they said. “How did he get so wise all of a sudden, get such ability?” But in the next breath they were cutting him down: “He’s just a carpenter—Mary’s boy. We’ve known him since he was a kid. We know his brothers, James, Justus, Jude, and Simon, and his sisters. Who does he think he is?” ~Mark 6:1-3 MSG

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[1] On the Sabbath, he gave a lecture in the meeting place. He made a real hit, impressing everyone. “We had no idea he was this good!” they said. “How did he get so wise all of a sudden, get such ability?” But in the next breath they were cutting him down: “He’s just a carpenter—Mary’s boy. We’ve known him since he was a kid. We know his brothers, James, Justus, Jude, and Simon, and his sisters. Who does he think he is?” ~Mark 6:1-3 MSG