Come In We’re Open

The Christ of the Shop

Today I saw a Man pass by my shop,

As many pass along this way each day.

He looked at me, but work I did not stop–

Refused to hear the Word He had to say.

But as this day comes to a usual end,

It’s He alone remains in my mind ‘s eye,

For something stirs in my heart deep within.

Of Him my memory draws a longing sigh.

What is it in me now that makes me think

That I am but a mirror of His face,

Where in me His pure image is made faint

By my sin’s role in Adam’s fall from grace?

That night in bed I hear a gentle knock

On my closed door, all bolted and secure,

And in my heart I know I will unlock

My door and hope it’s He with my sin’s cure.

I rise and pull the bolt with trembling hands,

fling open wide a door long frozen shut;

And there at unbarred door, that same Man stands-

Asks me with Him to at His table sup.

He comes inside and sets a wedding feast

With His dear Mother and His Cana friends;

And there, around His table, gives His Peace

To all who back to world again He sends.

I open up my shop when morning breaks

And He is there in each comes through shop’s door;

For once His image made He ne’er forsakes

Us here who open door with spirits poor.


by The  Rev. “Knick”  Knickerbocker

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