"Monday" is collected in Helprin's The Pacific
I have a dear friend whose birthday is today. Because she feels things deeply, she can’t celebrate her birthday without some level of sorrow for the lives lost on 911. Many of us today will stop to remember 911, and we will discuss and pray over the current issues related to that story.
I want to go in a different direction. I want to celebrate the redemption, the small and large acts of redemption, related to that day or related to others that remind us that God is really the King of all Nations, that He is working today, now, through you and me, and in spite of you and me, to restore broken things. To celebrate this redemption, I’ll tell you a little about one of my favorite stories and encourage you to read it. (Warning, there is a slight spoiler here, so you may want to read the story before reading the post.)
Author Mark Helprin writes a story about a man who is reintroduced to his Creator as he partakes in a marvelous renovation. In the story, “Monday,” a contractor accepts the job of restoring an old New York City apartment for a woman whose husband was killed in the South Tower on September 11. Without her knowledge, the contractor decides to do the work for free, and a remarkable work of art is created as his laborers join with him in this self-sacrificial gift. Helprin describes the work in this way:
The work itself became the object and never in their lives had they done better. Never had the walls been straighter or smoother, never had the plaster been whiter, never had the wood been closer joined, never had the joints been tighter, the colors more intense, the proportions more artful….when they fitted it all in…the men kept on saying, “Look at that! Look at that!” because nowhere in New York or perhaps anywhere was there a better job….This was repeated in the rosewood paneling, in limestone baseboards, in nickel, marble, granite, and unobtrusive plaster molding that physics said could not be whiter, purer, or more like snow in bright sun. It was apparent in the ironwork, brasswork, and glazing. The solid walnut doors were two and a half inches thick, with the same brass hardware and hinges as in the White House, and they closed more smoothly and quietly than the doors of a Rolls-Royce. (Mark Helprin, “Monday,” in The Pacific and Other Stories, 2004).
The contractor, as he watches this marvelous transformation, “apprehends the Emperor” in a way that he never had as he attended Mass:
The mass existed, in his perhaps heretical view, to keep, encourage, and sustain a sense of holiness, and to hold open the channels to grace that, with age and discouragement, tend to close. Witness to those who had little sacrificing what they had, to their children contributing to the work in their way, and to the fathers’ pride in this, Fitch felt the divine presence as he had not since the height of his youth. (Helprin, 68)
What about you? What stories of 9-11 redemption do you have? What are you doing, can you do, TODAY, to bring restoration to this world in anticipation of the new heavens, new earth?
And while I’m at it, I want to say Happy Birthday to my friend, whose kind and merciful heart overflows with beauty that spreads shalom through broken stories.
