The Master Architect by Cheryl Nester

The Master Architect On a sharp promontory facing a crashing sea, a beautiful church stood partially finished. Its polished obsidian façade was flecked with green and gold and sparkled in the sunlight. Workmen busily worked on the construction site. The foundation of the church was complete, along with stained glass windows and huge paneled doors that conveyed welcome. Obsidian block covered the walls to two-thirds of their intended height. The church was oriented eastward. Across the sea in front of it lay a speck of land barely visible in the clear morning light.

On this particular morning, the site managers were perplexed. The expected order of obsidian blocks had arrived, each bearing the seal of the project’s master architect. In this particular order, one block looked different than the other blocks. It was lighter in color and had various color swirls of pinks and purples, greens, and golds. While similar to the other blocks, it did not quite match. The site managers discussed this among themselves and decided that a mistake had been made at the quarry in sending this particular block. Looking at their blueprints, they realized this particular block would be situated high over the door of the main entrance. Concerned that it would mar the overall look, they searched for a replacement. With careful consideration, they chose another obsidian block that remained from a prior order. Construction continued that week until the last block was laid on that portion of the walls.

Another shipment of blocks arrived the following week. This time there were two obsidian blocks that did not match the others. They, too, had the seal of the master architect. The site managers decided to call the architect to let him know that the quarry was making mistakes in orders. As they talked with him, he said he would visit the next day to sort out what was happening.

The next day the master architect arrived. His site managers had their blueprints out, trying to make sure they had followed his plans to the letter. He greeted them with a smile and handshake. “Let’s see what the issue is,” he said. He looked at the obsidian blocks in question, noting their swirling colors. He looked at his copy of the blueprints, then asked to see the plans the site managers were using. With a kind voice and gentle smile, he spoke to the managers, good men whom he had personally chosen to lead the construction. “Did all these blocks have my seal on them?,” he asked. “Yes,” one said man and other heads nodded in agreement. “What made you decide that there had been a mistake, and that you couldn’t use this particular block?” “Well,” said one of the managers, “the first block did not match the others. We were concerned that it would mar the design of the church and that you would be displeased. We did consult the blueprints and there was no indication that we should use the block that looked different.”

“I see,” said the architect. “And did it not matter that my seal was on the blocks for which you had such concern?” He continued, “When reading blueprints, it is easy to misunderstand them. But my seal leaves no room for misinterpretation. I chose those blocks. I sent those blocks to you. Let me show you why.” The architect pointed to his blueprints. The site managers consulted theirs to make sure they were the same. “See this,” said the architect, “it shows that the polished obsidian blocks should be laid as you have done. However, there is a note at the bottom of the plans. It reads that enhancements will be made to the designer’s specifications and at his discretion. As the designer, I chose those unusual blocks for a different purpose.” Taking out an architectural rendering of the finished church, he showed them the beautiful cross that the unusual obsidian blocks would form within the front façade. Lights were directed onto those blocks in the rendering and the beautiful blues, greens, and golds of the cross glowed like a rainbow.

“You see,” said the architect, “ships coming from the ports of that distant land carry people who need hope. And even from their dark shores, they will be able to see the glowing lights of our cross. Those blocks were chosen by me not to beckon our neighbors but to encourage strangers.”

With understanding smiles, the site managers slowly shook their heads in agreement with the architect. “Now your cross will be a little shorter than intended,” said the architect, “since the first block was discarded. But that will not matter. My work remains and is beautiful still. Continue your labors, for the church will be completed as I have planned. I will take that first block and use it another way.”

“You yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.” (1 Peter 2:5)

“I (Jesus) will build my church….” (Matthew 16:18)

“For everything there is a season, a time for every matter under heaven…” (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

© Cheryl Nester, 2022. All Rights Reserved.