Volume 31

An inmate known only as A. Schiller was serving time in New York’s Sing Sing prison in the late 1800s when guards found him dead in his cell. On his body were seven ordinary straight pins with typical heads measuring 47/1000ths of an inch or 1.17 millimetres.

Perhaps alerted by Schiller’s fellow prisoners who knew of his unique obsession, prison administrators had the pins put under a microscope and magnified by 500 times. What they found was astonishing. Etched on the head of each pin was the words to The Lord’s Prayer, which is 65 words or 254 letters long. Six of the seven pins were silver and one was gold. The gold pin's workmanship was flawless and a true work of art.

Though history tells us nothing about Schiller’s motive, the inmate had nothing but time and Sing Sing was a notoriously joyless place for prisoners. “They are not to exchange a word with each other under any pretence whatever; not to communicate in writing,” wrote prison official Elam Lynds in 1824. “They must not sing, whistle, dance, run, jump, or do anything that has a tendency in the least degree to disturb the harmony... or regulations of the prison,” That was the guiding philosophy of the 19th century when administrators were convinced complete separation from the world was the path to reform. Regardless, Schiller spent the last 25 years of his life perfecting his microscopic masterpieces, using a handcrafted tool too small to be seen by the naked eye. It’s estimated he had to make 1,863 separate carving strokes to etch the prayer on his gold pin. The artist evidently went blind because of his work but what he left behind has far outlasted any memory of his crime or conviction.

In a very real sense, each of us is like Schiller. Spiritually, we’re guilty as sin; guilty of sin. Though we know what’s genuine — what Colossians 3:4 calls our “real life” in Christ — we pass off as authentic the world’s promises and priorities until we end up in a self-imposed prison of pain and isolation. Then slowly, God begins to work on us, in us, and through us.

When we finally come to see that true meaning is found in the love-changing, life-changing power of Jesus, we begin the painstaking process of etching the will of God on our hearts. Yes, there are bold and dramatic events that shape us, but our true Christian character is reflected daily in the countless small decisions, gestures and sacrifices that, when taken together, define who and what we are. Small matters. But small matters, in a big way.

That’s why we must constantly be refining and redefining the way in which prayer and our relationship with God is inscribed upon our character. Each attempt should improve upon the one before. Though it takes separation from the world, with trust, patience and perseverance to keep carving the principles of the Lord into the very essence of who we are, we’ll eventually get to the point where others see with respect the work and commitment that goes into that long, difficult pursuit of perfection.

“Let the words of Christ, in all their richness, live in your hearts and make you wise,” writes the apostle Paul. “And whatever you do or say, let it be as a representative of the Lord Jesus, all the while giving thanks through him to God the Father.” (Col. 3:16,17) It’s a monumental task born of the small. But, if we’re serious about our calling and our commitment, when others put our hearts under the microscope, they’ll clearly see the Lord’s prayer for our lives.

By Rick Gamble. Published in Cross Current, the weekly newsletter of the followers of Christ congregation in Brantford, Ontario, Canada. Reprint at will in not-for-profit publications. To subscribe to this free weekly article, send a note to Rick at sgamble@bfree.on.ca