The Process of Holiness

“We have seen what we are not, and what God wants us to be, but are we willing to be battered into the shape of the vision to be used by God? The beatings will always come in the most common, everyday ways and through common, everyday people. This means living the realities of our lives in the light of the vision until the truth of the vision is actually realized in us” (Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest).

I’m sure you’ve heard of the song about how everyone wants to go to heaven but no one wants to die, right? Well, this one’s called “Everyone Wants to be Holy, but No One Wants to Pay the Price for It.”

Not quite as catchy. But most believers want to be like Jesus. At least most say they do, including me. But far fewer are willing to do what it takes. More accurately, far less are willing to submit to the process that God uses to shape us into holy people.

The process looks a lot like taking a block of stone and chiseling it into Michelangelo’s David. Or when a silversmith purifies silver by sticking it into red-hot flames. Or when God puts hard circumstances and unkind people into our lives to teach us perseverance and patience.

I want to be used by God, but I’m less keen on being battered into shape for it. I’d rather skip right to the usefulness part and skip all the unpleasant part about God molding me into somebody useful.

A lot of it has to do with perspective. The way I look at the interruptions, delays, inconveniences, and hardships in my life says a lot about where my maturity level is. If I see them as hindrances, then maybe I need to grow up a little more. If I see them as the hand of God shaping and guiding me toward a greater purpose, then I’m getting closer to becoming who God created me to be in the first place.

“I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am” (Philippians 4:11-13, The Message).

In the Furnace

“One day we took the children to see a goldsmith refine gold after the ancient manner of the East. He was sitting beside his little charcoal fire. (‘He shall sit as a refiner’; the gold- or silversmith never leaves his crucible once it is on the fire.) In the red glow lay a common curved roof tile; another tile covered it like a lid. This was the crucible. In it was the medicine made of salt, tamarind fruit and burnt brick dust, and imbedded in it was the gold. The medicine does its appointed work on the gold, ‘then the fire eats it,’ and the goldsmith lifts the gold out with a pair of tongs, lets it cool, rubs it between his fingers, and if not satisfied puts it back again in fresh medicine. This time he blows the fire hotter than it was before, and each time he puts the gold into the crucible, the heat of the fire is increased; ‘it could not bear it so hot at first, but it can bear it now; what would have destroyed it then helps it now.’ ‘How do you know when the gold is purified?’ we asked him, and he answered, ‘When I can see my face in it [the liquid gold in the crucible] then it is pure’ (Amy Carmichael, Gold Cord).

Some of you are in the furnace right now. It might be the furnace of affliction, suffering, and pain. It might be the furnace of rejection and loneliness. Or it might be the furnace of unfulfilled hopes and dreams. Whatever it is, you can probably think of a million places you’d rather be than in that furnace.

But remember in the furnace is where you’re purified and sanctified. As much as I want it to be true, holiness doesn’t come from happiness. All those glorious spiritual mountaintop experiences aren’t what make you more like Jesus. It’s trudging through the valley where you learn and grow and become who God made you to be.

In one of my favorite books, Hinds’ Feet on High Places, the main character Much Afraid is sent out on a quest by the Shepherd and given two companions to help her on her way. Their names are Pain and Suffering. At first, she recoils and almost rejects them, but after some thought and reflections on the goodness of her Shepherd, she accepts their guidance. In the end, they are as much transformed as she is.

God takes what the world means to destroy us to strengthen us. He takes what was meant to set us back to move us forward. He takes what the enemy meant for evil, and He turns it for good (as the worship song goes). He’s working all things together for your and my good (even the crappy sucky stuff we’d rather move past and not have to deal with).

The end goal is for Jesus to see His likeness in us. For God to see His reflection in us and for the world to see God’s reflection in us as well. Then we know that we are truly being purified.

Refiner’s Fire

I can think of no better illustration of what it means to be refined under God’s hand until we start to resemble our Maker than the following:

“One day we took the children to see a goldsmith refine gold after the ancient manner of the East. He was sitting beside his little charcoal fire. (‘He shall sit as a refiner’; the gold- or silversmith never leaves his crucible once it is on the fire.)

In the red glow lay a common curved roof tile; another tile covered it like a lid. This was the crucible. In it was the medicine made of salt, tamarind fruit and burnt brick dust, and imbedded in it was the gold.

The medicine does its appointed work on the gold, ‘then the fire eats it,’ and the goldsmith lifts the gold out with a pair of tongs, lets it cool, rubs it between his fingers, and if not satisfied puts it back again in fresh medicine.

This time he blows the fire hotter than it was before, and each time he puts the gold into the crucible, the heat of the fire is increased; ‘it could not bear it so hot at first, but it can bear it now; what would have destroyed it then helps it now.’

‘How do you know when the gold is purified?’ we asked him, and he answered, ‘When I can see my face in it [the liquid gold in the crucible] then it is pure’” (Amy Carmichael, Gold Cord).

When God sees His face in us, then we shall be pure.

“Like a refiner of silver,
    He will purify the descendants of Levi—
Until they are pure, unalloyed gold and silver.
    Then they will draw near to the Eternal One,
Presenting offerings with righteous, clean hands” (Malachi 3:3, The Voice)

 

Music I Heard: For All The Ones I’ve Lost

While this year for me is a happy time, it’s also brings a bit of sadness with it. The memories of those I’ve loved and lost come more alive at this time of year than at any other time. I’ve been thinking about a particular poem by Conrad Aiken that makes me think of family members whom I wish I could talk to but never will again this side of heaven:

“Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.

Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved,
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.

For it was in my heart that you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always, –
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.”

The good news is that there is the other side of heaven where I WILL see all these people again. And Jesus will be there to wipe away every tear from my (and everyone else’s) eyes.