When the going gets tough, the tough get going...but they still whine like wee little girls most of the time.
So, I've been reviewing some of my own blogs this evening. I complain alot. I will probably complain more too. I am a pretty tough guy, and I don't give up on anything anymore really. But I am big whiner. At least I have been since I came out here. That in itself is the reason I'm writing this. Seattle, towards the end, was getting to easy. I actually thought I was on top of my personal flaws. Ha! I am finding that seminary, working at Starbucks, and dealing with the joy ('joy' in the "yay, its time to get nailed to a cross/burnt alive/fed to lions"...y'know... New Testament-sense-of-joy) that is New England has had the effect of bringing a number of character flaws that are resident in me to the surface. Then I whine...and then my over-inflated sense of manliness is faced with the person of David.
The psalmist begged God to 'remove his dross' or 'alloy.' Dross are the impurities that float to the surface of a molten puddle of gold. Alloy is the state of a metal when it is not strictly composed of one element. While today, 'alloys' of many sorts are stronger than many 'pure' metals (i.e. steel is an alloy of iron and carbon primarily) in Biblical times, plowshares, basic tools/implements and swords were all considered of better quality if they were free of a. Dross, and b. Alloy. Gold could only be refined by a heat sufficient enought to liquefy it so its various impurities would float to its surface and there be removed. Bronze and Iron could only be purified by an even higher heat. These processes are called 'forging' and 'annealing.' These are rather technical terms that aren't worth really explaining right now. Suffice it to say that the best plowshares and the strongest of blades were made of iron or steel that had been heated to near its melting point, had had the tar beaten out of it with hammer and anvil, and thereupon been quickly cooled down in a bucket of cold oil, only to begin the process again. Each fell blow of the hammer did two things to the blade. It beat the impurities out of the steel (its dross and alloy), and it changed the internal structure of the blade by compressing the molecules it was composed of into latticed 'stacks' one upon the other, thereby multiplying its strenght and flexibility by many times. All that to say that in the end, one was left with a thing of remarkable beauty, utility, and durability.
With those sorts of thoughts in mind, we return to the Psalmists' pleas to have his 'dross' and/or 'alloy' removed. It seems that he knows that he can be made into something of value (purified gold, a gleaming sword) and it seems that he knows something about the process (exposure to intense heat and pressure, and literally 'getting the crap beaten out' of him) and asks for it anyways. Brave man...asking YHWH for such things. I will plainly admit I am eisegeting this text a little, but not without point, and not abusively so. David wants to be purified. And so do I...
So far, coming to seminary has been my forge, and my circumstances the fell blows of the Purifier, the Swordsmith. When the Lord is in His temple, surely the Master is in His Smithy too. So...I need to stop complaining...at least I am not consigned to the scrap heap beside the forge, no?
C.S. Lewis, in "The Problem of Pain", and in "A Grief Observed" observed that God was chiseling away at us, the unfinished lumps of stone that we are, trying to turn us into fully human creatures. Many times this is undertaken by the application of pain and suffering. Furthermore, in "The Great Divorce" that ascent from the dreary Hell to the resplendent Heaven (by way of Bus) is marked by the main character becoming more and more 'real' as he ascends. When He gets to Heaven, he is still not 'solid' or 'real' enough to get on in that place, for even the blades of grass pierce his feet like actual blades, and the waters of a Heavenly Stream grip him like a vise and almost carry him away.
It seems that to be purified, to be strengthened, to be made ready for service, to be made more 'real' or more 'solid' involves pain. But what a lovely pain...or at least a worthwhile one. I suppose I would really have something to worry (and complain about...) if I weren't feeling any pain. (Then again, I wouldn't be complaining about it would I? The anaesthetized comfort of a being that is less than real is the comfort of a man on his death-bed.) So let us pray (as I am trying to) that God would not take away His fell blows, His determined pruning back of our wilding boughs, His making of us into more 'real' and 'solid' people, but that He would lend our suffering purpose, as He lent it meaning on the Cross.
(Cf. Proverbs and Hebrews "God disciplines the sons (and daughters!) that He loves")
Hoping you are encouraged in Christ,
Troy
The psalmist begged God to 'remove his dross' or 'alloy.' Dross are the impurities that float to the surface of a molten puddle of gold. Alloy is the state of a metal when it is not strictly composed of one element. While today, 'alloys' of many sorts are stronger than many 'pure' metals (i.e. steel is an alloy of iron and carbon primarily) in Biblical times, plowshares, basic tools/implements and swords were all considered of better quality if they were free of a. Dross, and b. Alloy. Gold could only be refined by a heat sufficient enought to liquefy it so its various impurities would float to its surface and there be removed. Bronze and Iron could only be purified by an even higher heat. These processes are called 'forging' and 'annealing.' These are rather technical terms that aren't worth really explaining right now. Suffice it to say that the best plowshares and the strongest of blades were made of iron or steel that had been heated to near its melting point, had had the tar beaten out of it with hammer and anvil, and thereupon been quickly cooled down in a bucket of cold oil, only to begin the process again. Each fell blow of the hammer did two things to the blade. It beat the impurities out of the steel (its dross and alloy), and it changed the internal structure of the blade by compressing the molecules it was composed of into latticed 'stacks' one upon the other, thereby multiplying its strenght and flexibility by many times. All that to say that in the end, one was left with a thing of remarkable beauty, utility, and durability.
With those sorts of thoughts in mind, we return to the Psalmists' pleas to have his 'dross' and/or 'alloy' removed. It seems that he knows that he can be made into something of value (purified gold, a gleaming sword) and it seems that he knows something about the process (exposure to intense heat and pressure, and literally 'getting the crap beaten out' of him) and asks for it anyways. Brave man...asking YHWH for such things. I will plainly admit I am eisegeting this text a little, but not without point, and not abusively so. David wants to be purified. And so do I...
So far, coming to seminary has been my forge, and my circumstances the fell blows of the Purifier, the Swordsmith. When the Lord is in His temple, surely the Master is in His Smithy too. So...I need to stop complaining...at least I am not consigned to the scrap heap beside the forge, no?
C.S. Lewis, in "The Problem of Pain", and in "A Grief Observed" observed that God was chiseling away at us, the unfinished lumps of stone that we are, trying to turn us into fully human creatures. Many times this is undertaken by the application of pain and suffering. Furthermore, in "The Great Divorce" that ascent from the dreary Hell to the resplendent Heaven (by way of Bus) is marked by the main character becoming more and more 'real' as he ascends. When He gets to Heaven, he is still not 'solid' or 'real' enough to get on in that place, for even the blades of grass pierce his feet like actual blades, and the waters of a Heavenly Stream grip him like a vise and almost carry him away.
It seems that to be purified, to be strengthened, to be made ready for service, to be made more 'real' or more 'solid' involves pain. But what a lovely pain...or at least a worthwhile one. I suppose I would really have something to worry (and complain about...) if I weren't feeling any pain. (Then again, I wouldn't be complaining about it would I? The anaesthetized comfort of a being that is less than real is the comfort of a man on his death-bed.) So let us pray (as I am trying to) that God would not take away His fell blows, His determined pruning back of our wilding boughs, His making of us into more 'real' and 'solid' people, but that He would lend our suffering purpose, as He lent it meaning on the Cross.
(Cf. Proverbs and Hebrews "God disciplines the sons (and daughters!) that He loves")
Hoping you are encouraged in Christ,
Troy
posted by Troy at 9:05 PM
2 Comments:
To say you've been whining is a bit of an understatement. And now, you sound self-serving. Hi Pharisee in the middle of the room saying look at me.
who's not allowed a bitch once in awhile? how often did david get his bitch on with the Lord? ok, so the hebrews had to stay in the desert for forty years for complaining, but that was really more a loss of faith than a bit of grumbling here and there. i admire you trying to find the best in bad things Troy, it's a hard thing to do. but crap, sometimes whining about something is the only way to get through it.
so what's your problem dude? you have personal issues with our friend troy?
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