The Carpenter’s Creed – A Summary I. Prologue: Divine Origins and Bent Nails In the beginning there was God, possibly, depending on your beliefs. Anyway, this God had a son, who he apprenticed upon a Humble Carpenter. This sort of accidentally grew out of there and sort of explains why Carpenters are the Chosen People. Between these covers lie ramblings—some poetic, some not—setting out the tenets and commandments of the Order of the Bent Nail. You’ll find gospels, hymns, psalms and liturgies that together form a humorous look at life in a joinery workshop, or life in general. II. The Tenets and Commandments The Order began with a mistake—a bent nail—and from that humble error sprang a theology of timber, toil, and tea breaks. The commandments are muttered mantras: “Thou shalt not glue before dry-fitting.” “Honour thy pencil line.” “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s DeWalt kit.” They’re not dogma, but reminders—offered with a wink, forged in sawdust and sweat. Wrestle with them, misquote them, rewrite them in the margins. The Order is not about perfection. It is about practice. And the occasional ceremonial cock-up. III. The Books Within the Book This is no single scroll, but a canon of joinery scripture. The Gospels of the Bench recount origin myths and divine mismeasurements. The Hymns and Psalms sing of lost pencils, sharpened blades, and sacred brews. The Liturgies and Blessings transform sweeping, mitring, and kettle-boiling into rites. Together, they form a spiritual toolkit—not for salvation, but for sanity, humour, and the quiet dignity of making something properly. IV. The Humour and Humanity This is a book about people—flawed, funny, faithful people who measure twice and still cut it wrong. The humour is structural: puns that groan, parables that wobble, liturgies that begin in solemnity and end in laughter. Beneath it lies affection for the craft and its characters. The Creed honours the mundane, celebrates failure, and reminds us that laughter is grace. A bent nail, properly honoured, holds more than timber—it holds a story. V. The Images and Iconography Nineteen black-and-white photographs serve as visual psalms. Grainy, honest, and reverent, they capture joinery life in shadow and contrast. They murmur, not shout—inviting contemplation and honouring imperfection. Placed like relics, they form a gallery of the sacred mundane. Not illustrations. Invocations. VI. Epilogue: A Creed for All Crafts Though it speaks joinery, its spirit reaches beyond the bench. It’s a mirror, not a manual—reflecting humour, humility, and holiness in everyday craft. The Creed continues in every workshop, every miscut board, every shared laugh. Quote it. Misquote it. Pass it on—with a wink, a blessing, and a pencil behind your ear.