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