I have to confess that I’m a fan of Ikea by necessity. If you were to tell me 10 years ago that I would one day shop at a store that makes you load, build, and eventually throw away flat-packed, pressed-board, in three shades of beech, I would have never believed you. I was a woodshop teacher’s assistant for goodness sakes, and I would never buy such painfully inconvenient near-wood goods.

Well, times have changed. I guess it’s the Scandinavian blood that runs through my veins, but somehow, someway, the Vikings have conquered my pocketbook. To be honest, I have no logical explanation for it. One day I was an Ikea mocker, the next day I’m pointing out to my wife the nifty furniture combo sets in every prefab living room on their showroom floor. One moment I’m laughing at the poor schmucks that look forward to the arrival of the latest Ikea catalogue, the next I’m thumbing through it in my times of restroom meditation. I’m reminded of one-liners in fight club about such emasculation and yet I line up in cattle call formation to trudge through the lines and gleefully wait for a friendly employee to ask me if I want them to “check if that item is in stock.” Sure, I reply, but can you see if you have any of the clip-on lights to adorn the top?

What happened to me? I like red meat, war movies, and sports that keep their physicians busy throughout the season. Perhaps I have fallen prey to the greatest marketing myth a country has pitched us- that no matter the problem with their product, I’ll be helped by a blonde hair, blue eyed 6’ 2 customer service rep that will simply say “ya sure, you betcha,” and I’ll be on my merry way. I mean after all, the name Nordstrom is Swedish right? The Saab and Volvo are from Sweden. The restaurant my parents and I frequented growing up was a smorgasbord. Good stuff from Sweden…well except the pornography, but that’s an entirely separate issue.

So, here I am, frustrated at my latest engineering endeavor, compliments of Ikea, and I find that there are parts missing from boxes for my daughters desk. It’s odd, but not impossible. Maybe Anna dropped the ball back in packing and I was short a few pieces, no big deal, or so I thought.

After checking and rechecking my craftsmanship, I realized that for once it wasn’t my fault and I didn’t have to tear it apart because I had the top on the bottom or the bottom on the top. It was actually their mistake this time. I felt a wry smile creep across my face and was a little flattered that I hadn’t screwed things up.

In talking about this little problem with an elder’s wife, she told me a nasty story about her similar problem with her purchase. They made her tear apart the item, repack it, and haul it back to the store so they could give her a new one! What? You have to be kidding me, I thought. There is no way I’m going to tear apart a desk that has taken me 4 hours of my precious pastoral time to build! So I took her suggestion and called Ikea a couple days later. Low and behold a very nice customer service rep name Christian helped me out on the phone and quickly told me not to worry, just bring in my instructions, circle the parts that are missing, go to the customer service counter in the store and they’ll take care of me. Of course, I’m thinking since his name was Christian, this was no coincidence and I was spared the frustration of our friends. Ha! Sneaky meatball lovers! They tricked me and I bought it! My wife and I get in the car on a rainy San Diego day (which, if you know anything about San Diegans and rain, you know this was no easy task), and brave the elements and Charger play-off game traffic to reach our destination- space savers Mecca.

I’m hobbling along in my plastic cast because I decided I was going to get back into kickboxing at 35 and my ankle reminded me that I am 35. Not a bright man, but at the very least I thought I had the sympathy thing going for me. I arrive at the counter, grab lucky #42 from the ticket dispenser and patiently wait my turn. I had the confidence of a matador, at least the brave ones, since they owed me my missing parts. My number was called, I hobbled up to the counter, open the instructions to the ‘Alve’ desk and show her the parts I circled that were missing. By the look on her face, I could tell this wasn’t going to be an easy task.

You know that look you get when someone wants to just say no, but they’re trying to find a good justification for it? That’s the look she had on her face. But, she said she’ll go in the back and check to see what they can do. Now, at this point I’m starting to get a little ruffled since my buddy Christian on the phone said they had 24 boxes in stock and all I had to do was to tell them what I needed and they would open one of the boxes and “take care of me.” But this woman didn’t look as if she wanted to “take care of me” but rather she wanted to get rid of me. She comes back a few minutes later to tell me that they didn’t have any spare parts and I would have to wait to see if they could get any for that desk. Well, that’s not exactly the response I was looking for. Being that it was a rainy day, I had a plastic cast on, we had to fight traffic, and my confidence was dropping, I asked her if she could speak to her supervisor to see what she could do.

So, off she went to see what they could do. Upon returning, instead of having a supervisor with her, she was alone and mentioned that she spoke to her supervisor and he said that there is nothing they could do since the return policy is only for 45 days, and I was past my 45 days. I barked “I’m not returning anything, what does your 45 day policy have to do with me?”

My situation was unique, I was different, I was already told from Christian I would be fine if I just showed up with my receipt and instructions and presented them to the desk. Well, I presented them, but she wasn’t budging. She mentioned those three words that every consumer in American can’t stand to hear- “It’s store policy.” What? I don’t care! I’m not just #42! I’m a human being who expects that others would treat me as such and not like some problem that has to be forced into a certain policy number to dismiss me! Is there a store manager? Yes, she replied. Then can you get that person so I can speak to them. I mean c’mon. Give me a break. I’m not trying to ask for anything more than I deserve and should be coming to me. I don’t care about policies and procedures. I don’t care about arbitrary days that corporate decides to draw a line and everybody on one side gets the goods and the rest go without. I simply want what is fair and just.

As she walked away to locate and retrieve the store manager, I was struck by the gospel in all of this nonsense. First, I thought of many businesses that I have a negative response to because they try use the “it’s store policy” card more often than they make exceptions. They are more concerned with keeping corporate rules that they forget that it is their customers that keep them employed and the store in existence. So many times I have walked away from dealing with representatives of a service or store frustrated because instead of simply hearing me out, or trying to understand, or wanting to help me, I was only given “policy” as if that meant anything to me. As if I’m supposed to know the intimate inner workings of their corporation and all its variable policies when all I want is for them to zip it and listen. I’m coming for help, asking for help, wanting and expecting help. I see a name tag and on it are the words ‘Customer Service.’ Yet, though the title implies their main job function as one that serves the customer, what they should really call themselves is ‘Policy Enforcers’ since it is what they do best.

Secondly, I was considering the businesses that I have respect and positive memories of and the reasons why. For instance, when I bring something back to Nordstrom’s, I’m not questioned like a third grader who is in the principal’s office. When I have a problem, bring something back, or simply don’t like what I purchased, I don’t have to run through a battery of tests to see if I fit into one of their categories on the return policy check list. No, it seems that no matter what was done to the clothing or product, they are willing to fix it and take care of you. Of course there are other businesses that follow in their steps, but not many.

As I thought about the differences between these two businesses founded by Swedish men, I recognized the absolute difference in their employees approach to business. One business was more interested in keeping rules and enforcing the policies, and the other was interested in fixing the problem, no matter how great it was. This distinction makes all the difference as one practices business by law and the other practice business by grace. Now, you might be thinking that these are not similar businesses, they have different kinds of products and the expectation of service should be different as well, but for the customer who is asking for help, policy only further frustrates the problem, grace alleviates it.

How many businesses would benefit from understanding and applying the principles of biblical grace in their operating model? How many customers would be won over by the willingness of the representative that takes personal responsibility to offer an answer, extend a hand, listen in times of frustration and need, and do all they can to guard the reputation of the company they work for? I think many of us are waiting to see this modeled in business and would be willing to give our money to those businesses if they offered necessary products at fair prices.

This almost sounds impossible doesn’t it? Yeah, I guess it does. Unfortunately for the average Christian (not the phone rep at Ikea), it sounds as foreign as you and I following this advice in the same way to represent our Father in heaven and guard His name and His fame so carefully that we would be instruments of grace and not enforcers of law. Think of how effective we would be if we followed these same principles. What If we took personal responsibility to offer an answer to those that ask the reason for the hope that’s within us? What if we extended a hand of friendship to those that aren’t very friendly? What if we were quick to listen and slow to speak in times where our friends and family are frustrated or hurt? What if we were more concerned for our Father’s reputation than our own? How many non-Christians do you think would be willing to give our faith a hearing if we simply acted in ways that we expect others who are non-Christians to act? That last question is a good one for me. Why is it that I would expect a representative for a business to extend grace to me when I demand my own way to meet my own needs but could care less how I could help make her job of helping me easier?

You see, we all have parts missing don’t we? We all come up short when we try to put things together ourselves with our own resources. It is a blessing that God shows us through empty boxes how much we need Him to fill them. It’s good that I get frustrated, scratch my head, and get off my butt to go to the Father when I see that I’m coming up short. That’s the point of grace. It’s unmerited, undeserved favor that is given to those that come humbly and ask. My smirk, the proud moment of being able to blame them, the demanding and firm tone I took with my Ikea rep, all added to my frustration because I wanted what I was unwilling to give and received back only what I did give. Law for Law, grace for grace, that’s how it works. God opposes the proud by giving them law, but gives grace to the humble.

Ok, back to my Ikea story. I’m standing and waiting for the store manager to come and talk with me and as I see him coming I realize that my tone and my posture changed. Instead of being loose and confident, I was more reserved, respectful, and explanatory to him. I mentioned the problem that I was facing in a way that was gracious, and guess what? Johnny at the San Diego Ikea said “no problem, we’ll get one of the boxes open and give you your missing parts.” I stopped and wondered, was it the difference between the representative and the manager, or was it the difference between my attitude of demands in the law or my willingness to be gracious? Maybe it was both. But one thing I noticed; when I was told no by the first rep, and she had company policy to back her up, knowing that made me grateful for the manager’s grace. Its not like Johnny was unaware of the policy of his own store, yet he was his willing to take responsibility as the store manager to see what was lacking in my box, open one of his own and give me what I didn’t possess that made me genuinely thankful to him. What a great picture of what God the Father has done as Creator and manager of this world as he sees the need of you and I and sends His son, opens His Son up, to give to you and I what we don’t possess, namely His righteousness. How precious He is for seeing our need and knowing how to fix us, for giving us of His own resources so that we are made full.

In the beginning of the conversation with Johnny, my wife asked if there was another manager above him, and he responded by saying “I’m the store manager, I own the store.” He took responsibility squarely upon his shoulders and would be the final say in representing his company, and instead of law he gave grace. Oh that we would take our roles as ambassadors for Christ seriously and follow suit.

So, will customer #42 go back to Ikea and torture myself with more fashionable and yet flexibly functional Swedish furnishings? Ya sure, you betcha!