By Kat Silverglate © 2026
A young boy walks by a building site and scratches his head. It is filled with more construction vehicles and workers than the tiny frame for a cottage seemed to justify.
Boy: “What are y’all building,” yelled the boy to the massive construction crew.
Foreman: “Hope,” answered the foreman.
Boy: “Hope? I’ve never seen so many construction vehicles. Why do you need so many bulldozers, cranes, and dump trucks to build hope?
Foreman: Because there’s so much debris.
Boy: Debris?
Foreman: Yes, things that don’t belong in this building.
Boy: Where did it come from?
Foreman: Every day when we show up to build, we find evidence of others attempting to build on our site. Some of it is actually quite detailed and merged meticulously into the parts of the structure we’ve already completed. We start each day by comparing the actual plans to what is there and then we remove what doesn’t belong. It’s very time consuming.
Boy: Why would somebody build on another person’s property?
Foreman: Oh, it’s human nature, son. We are builders by nature. Born to build. We build names for ourselves. We build lives. We build friendships. We build reputations. We build resumes. And families. We are born to build. If we can’t put our hands on the plans for our own property, we’ll just start to build for the sake of building.
Boy: Where are the trucks taking all that debris?
Foreman: To the Master Builder. He re-purposes it and sends it back with redrawn plans on how to use some of it in the building. There’s so much of it, it gets used elsewhere. By the workers in their own homes. By others we don’t even know.
Boy: The Master Builder?
Foreman: He made the plans for this building. He wastes nothing. He's the master of turning debris into something useful and beautiful. Our crew has grown quite fond of the project. Even with all the time they spend managing debris.
Boy: Why don’t they work on an easier project?
Foreman: Because this is where the Master Builder sent them. Because this one brings them hope.
The Parable of the Master Builder by Kat Silverglate © 2026
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Since parables are written to reflect something of life, here’s the beginning of the connection that inspired the story. My husband and I went to law school in the 1980’s. Students, for the most part, had gone directly from high school to college to law school. Consequently, little practical context existed for what life would be like outside an academic description of how-the-law-works in the “real” world. Whatever job experience students had before stepping from academia into law practice largely involved enterprises built by others -- restaurants, retail chains, service organizations, firms. The handful of exceptions were professionals from various fields who’d started businesses from scratch or managed some piece of an organization. On their second career path, these “second-lifers” were unicorns to us; mythical beings that seemed to grasp concepts we knew we couldn’t until we faced and survived our own battles in the land of the giants.
There was the medical doctor who had seen malpractice cases explode against other professionals in his field. He knew, by lived experience, the debris field that building something constructive leaves in its wake. The entrepreneurial engineer [at another law school] loved engineering but felt like a cog in a big machine distant from the heartbeat of the cause. He had to halt his momentum in one field and start again at the beginning of another.
But the most delightful perspective came from the general contractor, a partner in a GC firm whose projects included commercial buildings, educational facilities, courthouses and hospitals. And it wasn't just because she was a woman in an industry where less than 3% of GC’s were female at the time, but because of what she said that first day when asked – “why law school?” I’m paraphrasing here from memory, and by that I mean very distant memory inseparable now from the neverland of impact words have on the way our hearts are affected by them:
"I became a general contractor because I was amazed that a piece of raw land could go from bare ground to a beautiful structure that supported life inside. It’s an incredible undertaking with so many different people that have to come together and do their unique part for a singular goal. It seems impossible when you first stand on that bare ground. But when people move in and the space supports its intended purpose - it still amazes me. I want to be skilled at resolving conflicts in the building arena.”
The amount of conflict in the arena she loved -- her debris field -- gave her a craving to learn to manage it well. C.S. Lewis brings the link between debris and building to the spiritual realm from Mere Christianity.
"Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on: you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself."
Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis
The movement from knowledge of faith to a living breathing faith involves a ton of debris management. The Lord moves in, gives us new life and plants us as instruments of mass construction in a disintegrating world. Every person we encounter. Every experience. Every challenge. Every joy. In every moment of our ridiculously faith-driven lives, He is showing us the difference between what He builds and what we and others sometimes build in vain. When the psalmist sings: “Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain,” [Psalm 127:1] isn’t he inviting us to think about how we are managing the debris built into our thoughts and actions that are inconsistent with the hope that dwells within us? Isn’t he normalizing debris management as a practical reality for the faithful?
In his book, The Search for Signficance, Robert S. McGee takes a microscope to some of the behaviors that reveal a debris management problem in the heart of a disciple. His premise is that behaviors reveal beliefs that we may not completely understand but that are inconsistent with what the Lord has built in us and intends through us. From a 30,000-foot view, he groups some of those common behaviors into four categories.
THE PERFORMANCE TRAP has us moving through life out of a fear of failing or of not meeting standards set up by us or others. This behavior reveals a false belief about forgiveness. Any performance that gives the illusion of gain or loss of value creates debris that needs to be managed.
THE APPROVAL TRAP has us finding worth in the approval of others and diminished worth in the disapproval of others. This belief reveals a false understanding of reconciliation. Approval as a source of value creates debris that needs to be managed.
THE BLAME GAME has us condemning ourselves and others when failure or imperfection at any level occurs. This behavior reveals a false understanding of propitiation [the impact of the Lord’s sacrifice on punishment]. Finding value in superiority to others or perfectionism creates debris that needs to be managed.
THE SHAME CYCLE has us stuck in the belief we aren’t capable of constructive change. This belief reveals a false under- standing of regeneration. Shame and self-hatred create debris that needs to be managed.
Here’s the good news. The question isn't whether we have debris in our building – we all do -- the question is whether we will manage it knowing “that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to his purpose.”
Our July Mission:
In your mission pack you will find four stickers with different construction vehicles. Consider meditating on the four common behaviors listed above that point to a false understanding of what the Lord has done in your heart. Do any of them resonate? Rather than manage the behavior, will you consider spending some time meditating on the belief that drives the behavior? If your value rises and falls based on the opinions of others, challenge your belief on the ability of humans to determine your worth. If you live in a shame cycle believing you are incapable of change, challenge your understanding of regeneration. Debris management begins with noticing beliefs that are inconsistent with the Lord's work in you. Send those beliefs to the dump. They don't belong in your building. Replace them with the truth
Amen? Amen!
