The Watch

John 14:1-3  Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.  In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.

The military family of five sat at dinner for the evening meal.  As the father bowed his head to give thanks and ask a blessing over the food the rest of the family followed suite.  Today was just another day in a faraway country.  But, no father could have been more proud of his three red-blooded, American, boys.  They were certainly all boy in their mischievous activities and rambunctious behaviors.  Each one stood out in one way or another.  The eldest spent his days being the first at everything.  As the first born he took seriously the responsibility of firsts.  He had been the first to make friends in this faraway land, the first to gather a troop of boys together and make some minor trouble.  It was his lot to be first, his right and desire.  Each of his brothers knew he’d always lead the way, whether right or wrong. They had no trouble in letting him be the brunt of trouble or the recipient of praise.  Sometimes you’d think trouble outweighed the praiseworthy, until the praiseworthy came to light.  It was the second’s job to be first’s mate.  Every fantastic adventure the first-born devised received criticism or agreement from the second-born.  It was the job of first’s mate to make possible the schemes, or be the sounding board of reason, and sometimes, the first to walk away.  The first’s mate, second in line, became analytical, reasoning, and considering.  Where the first would rush in, the second would consider consequences, ability, capability, and morality.  Where the first was brash, the second became cautious.  And that left the third at the end of the line, scrambling to catch up, a defender of the small and weak.  (Usually the small and weak was him!)  The separation in birth of five years created a natural independence.  His independence led him into independent pursuits.  Sometimes as he learned to play the piano he’d look with disdain and aloofness at his elder brethren and wonder how they could be in the same family.  Observing the brash and cautious, he became an artisan of fantasy and dreams.  Without a close companion he imagined a myriad of invisible companions.  These companions became real through drawings, his moods evident in music, and musings apparent in composition.  Not for the last time the seaman father considered the difficulty of bringing up these three familiar, yet diverse boys.  How would he instill integrity, character, responsibility, and accountability?  And so, one more time he silently prays for God’s help and guidance.

But this story isn’t really about the father or the brothers, but of one little boy.  It’s a story of one boy who watched and waited.  Every parent wants to do the best they can for their children.  Every parent rejoices at joyful children.  Sitting at the table that evening the father was going to make one boy very happy.  They didn’t have a lot of money, but they had what they needed.  The boys had gotten used to their father going to the thrift store on base and bringing home little treasures.  As the old saying goes, “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure”.  That was the premise behind thrift stores.  It was a store where second-hand merchandise could be bought and, almost miraculously, to become new again.  He’d taken time from work that day to visit this little shop.  As he’d perused the aisles he’d noticed a bicycle in the corner with one flat tire, a little rust on the wheels, but sporting a banana seat and extensive sissy bar.  It was just the right size and style for that second little boy.  No more fighting with the older brother over the Peugeot 26” racing bicycle.  They’d soon be able to pedal around the neighborhood together.  So he told the young first’s mate about the bicycle and promised to buy it after pay day if it was still there.  Pay day was only a few days away.  He told the little boy all about the bike, its good points and bad.  He told of the things that needed to be fixed, the things that would excite.  What a bike!  So, it needed a flat fixed, some rust removed, care given where it had been neglected.  Not bad.  The boy was good with his hands.  His brother was considered a master mechanic with the neighborhood’s bicyclists.  Between the two they’d put the love and attention into that bike to make it new again. 

So, pay day came.  The young boy had earned a little money and had gone to the store and bought some things to fix the bike.  He’d talked to all his friends about the coming joy of a “new” bike.  Every boy knew his father had made the promise.  The boy had done everything he could to prepare, tell, and anticipate the future.  Now he sat looking out the window for the 1967 Chevy II Nova to enter the parking lot of the apartment building.  In that car would be a bicycle!  His dad was coming home with his bicycle!  As he waited he considered what he’d do first.  Should he tackle the rust first with Naval Jelly so it would shine while he fixed the tire?  Or should he fix the tire first, take it for a spin, and then shine it up?  If his friends saw him, he’d want it to look the best.  Tackling the rust was first priority.  All would be well when dad came home.  There might even be enough light to ride it after fixing it.  He checked off his list of items, fingering and touching the air pump, Naval Jelly, patch kit, and tools as he waited.  Every now and then he’d yell at his brother watching on the other side of the apartment, “Have you seen him yet?”   

Suddenly, there it was.  That beautiful Nova seemed to park itself.  A man in a smart Navy uniform got out.  Soon he’d open the trunk and take out a bike.  But, no!  He walked into the building empty handed.  The little boy ran to the door, opened it and waited for his dad to climb the stairs to the third floor.  As soon as the boy saw his father he began to ask questions.  “Was it already sold?  Did you forget?  Isn’t it pay day?”  His father told him the worst news of the day.  The store wasn’t open every day, only twice a week.  It would be a couple more days.  But, the boy wasn’t worried; he trusted his dad and his promises. 

The next day the boy waited again by the window in anticipation, even though he knew the store was not supposed to be open, there was a chance.  So, he sat with all the accoutrements of preparation and waited.  But, today was not to be the day.

Another day, another watch!  There was the same excitement as the first.  There was the same preparedness as the first.  There was excitement as at the beginning.  And, as promised, he watched as his dad opened the trunk and took out the magnificent bike.  His imagination had not done it justice, his older brother gasped in envy and shared joy, and his younger wished he could ride a bike that size.  The boys didn’t know which to grab first, the pump or the tools! 

Jesus Christ promises to return.  Have we told others?  Have we prepared?  Do we spend each day watching, assured we’ve prepared our lives and the lives of others as we should?  There is a promise for each of us and all of us.  Everyone can share but will they?  One boy out of three was promised, yet all the boys new the character of their dad.  A promise to one was a promise they could all rely on.  Christ promised his disciples, he promised the early church, and us.

Christ’s promises are as pure and certain today as yesterday.

I Thessalonians 5:2,6  For yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord so cometh as a thief in the night. …Therefore let us not sleep, as do others; but let us watch and be sober.