Wood Floors

Sometime during my first winter in Harrisburg, I was asked an unbelievably special question by Kirk Hallett, that man who invited me to come here to be a Catholic Worker in Harrisburg. At the time Kirk was battling acute myeloid leukemia. Kirk asked Mike (a dear friend who enjoys spending time in his woodshop) and I if we would build a wooden urn box for him. 

Over the next few months I spent many evenings at Mike’s house as we transformed an old door into the most beautiful gift I have ever participated in. One of those evenings, I brought along my notebook to jot down some thoughts, as I thought I might want to write a biography on Kirk someday. 

In my notes from that evening, I wrote about St. Peter and his boat. In the Gospels we hear about Peter fishing from his boat and even leaving his boat to go follow Jesus. We don’t hear about all the effort he put into preparing his boat. How he must have cared for the wood with the means of their time in history. Did he sand it down? How did he avoid it from rotting in the water? What type of wood was the boat made out of?

Kirk took me to his sailboat twice. The first time we didn’t even take the boat out. The second time he tried and after 20 feet the engine started smoking up so we took it back to the dock where Kirk steered in too fast and the boat rode up onto the dock. We blamed that one on the cancer treatment medications, but boating skills can probably still be listed in the “differences” category when comparing Kirk and St. Peter. 

Yesterday, my father drove out to Harrisburg to help prepare some bedroom floors for the next Catholic Worker. Along with Dan Cassidy from the Notre Dame Club of Harrisburg, who has been a tremendous help during the entire renovation process, we rented some floor sanding equipment, said some prayers, and gave it a try. 

All the emotions and thoughts of working on Kirk’s urn box emotionally came back to me. I once again thought about the urn box and Peter’s boat. I also remembered one of my earliest childhood memories with my father when we drove down to Louisville, KY as a family to see how the  wood baseball bats are made. However, the connection to the Gospels that came to mind was St. Joseph. 

We are told that Joseph was a carpenter but we are not told about the tedious hard work that being a carpenter entails. What tools did he use? What did he work on? What were his daily work hours like? My parents gave my father’s first name, Walter, to their first born son. I received my father’s middle name, Joseph. Meditating on that yesterday while transforming hardwood floors that will eventually be used for hospitality for those without housing nearly brought me to tears. I certainly am no carpenter, either by trade or by work ethic, but it was certainly a treasured gift to share that name and opportunity with my father yesterday. 

As Christians, we embrace the symbol of the Cross. We hang it high in the churches, and wear it around our necks. On Good Friday we hear, “Behold, the wood of the Cross.” This is all right and good, although wood for Christians should represent more than death and resurrection. The cross is not the only important Christian symbol made out of wood. From Noah’s Ark to the boats of Peter, James and John, wooden boats have been an ever present symbol in our history. This is why the ceiling of most churches look like the bottom of an upside down boat. From the Last Supper on, Christians have been breaking bread at wooden tables with Christ ever present. Jesus was born under a meager wooden manger after being told there was no room at the Inn. Catholic Worker houses strive to be the simple wooden manger rather than the Inn. Dorothy Day said, “Always room, always enough for one more — everyone just takes a little less”.

So let us allow wood to represent more than the death and resurrection of the Cross. Few will have their hands pierced with a nail into wood. Many more have been on a boat at sea. All will break bread at a table. All can offer a room to one in need.