The Screwdriver in the Sacristy
Updated: Sep 3
“One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much.”Luke 16:10
It lies in the drawer among the spare candles and the forgotten hymn sheets. A simple screwdriver, slightly worn, the handle smoothed by other hands.
No one remembers who left it there. It is not liturgical. It does not belong with the sacred vessels. Yet it remains, ready for the next loose hinge, the next wobbly candle stand, the next small repair that keeps the place usable.
Jesus worked with tools long before he spoke in synagogues. Wood. Measurement. The quiet pressure of a hand that knows how much force is enough. The holy did not begin only when he left the workshop. The same hands later blessed and healed. They had first learned to mend what was coming apart.
Some of the holiest work in a church is done with ordinary tools. Tightening what has come loose. Straightening what has leaned. Making sure the door still opens and the stand still holds. Without that work, people cannot gather. The Mass needs more than vestments and words. It needs a room that can bear the weight of those who come.
You do not need to make the screwdriver holy by a speech. It is enough that it is there, waiting, useful, unremarkable.
This is part of the mystery we celebrate. Christ gives himself in simple things. Bread. Wine. Water. A word spoken over them. Around that gift there is also hidden labour: the floor swept, the lock fixed, the hinge tightened before anyone arrives. God sees the work that never appears in the newsletter.
The sacred is often kept going by what no one notices.