In her play, "The Zeal of Thy House," Dorothy Sayers imagines a stonemason working on an intricate carving for the chancel of Canterbury Cathedral, who clumsily lets his tool slip and spoils the whole great piece of stone assigned to him. It is a sad moment as the valuable and custom-cut stone stands misshapen. The architect, however, takes the tool out of the artisan's hand and although he remonstrates with him for his clumsiness, begins to enact forgiveness. He redesigns out of the spoiled carving a new and different figure which has its own part to play in the ensemble of the Cathedral, and then permits the blundering mason to complete it in all its glory. "So works with us," concludes Dorothy Sayers, "the cunning craftsman, God."

On reading it, this phrase stands out: "The cunning craftsman, God." As used, the word cunning does not mean some kind of craftiness which might be our modern interpretation. But taken in its pure sense it indicates skill, wisdom and ability. The phrase then really means that the Master artist God can take our blundering efforts and still make something useful out of them. He takes our mismanaged lives, our failed efforts, our missed marks, our shameful deeds, our alien attitudes, our sinful lives and out of his divine resourcefulness he saves the day by creating something new, worthy and wonderful that still has usefulness and beauty in the divine plan of things. It is a reassurance that we desperately need, but one on which we cannot presume.