That is a long way up.
I am standing inside the reconstructed stone tower that was once a working iron furnace, deep in the mountains of Pennsylvania. The circle of gray sky above looks down on me like an eye ringed by rows of rock. It’s beautiful. And a bit oppressive.
It’s odd to be standing here, since this would have been the heart of the fire. I learn this by the illustrated sign nearby. In its prime, this structure would have been approached from above, while down below, the molten metal would have poured out into molds.
Where I stand, it would have been 3000° F.
I love to see objects that are tied to Biblical imagery. Smelting, in Scripture, has a powerful symbolic use: helping us to picture both the judgment of God and the process of purification. In Ezekiel 22, God uses it as a picture of his coming wrath on a rebellious people:
As one gathers silver and bronze and iron and lead and tin into a furnace, to blow the fire on it in order to melt it, so I will gather you in my anger and in my wrath, and I will put you in and melt you. (Ezekiel 22:20)
So, looking up this chimney, I am reminded of my own sinfulness. And that leads me to contemplate Jesus: imagining him standing here, in my stead, awaiting the falling fire that I deserved. He, who knew no sin, becoming sin for me. Giving me his righteousness in return.
How little I understand his anguish, separated from the Father. How utterly alone he must have felt. As I look at the exits from this furnace, I am amazed at Jesus’s commitment to go through with the plan. At any time, he could have backed down – in Gethsemane, before the Sanhedrin, at each lash of the whip or fall of the hammer.
Yet this was God’s eternal plan of redemption. And Hebrews tells us that Jesus endured the crucible of the crucifixion because of the joy set before him (Heb. 12:2). The joy of seeing his people redeemed, set right with God. Of seeing his siblings to follow (Rom. 8:29).
Now, because of that finished work, our crucibles can purify us. When our troubles heat up, we know that God is not melting us to destroy us, but to reshape us. To get out of us the impurities that stand in the way of the joy that Jesus shares with us.
I leave the tower with the words of my favorite hymn speaking to my heart:
When through fiery trials your pathway shall lie,
my grace all sufficient shall be your supply;
the flames will not hurt you; I only design
your dross to consume and your gold to refine.
Precious Savior, our hearts overflow with gratitude for how you stood in our place to receive the judgment of God. You entered the furnace so that we might never know the Father’s wrath. Let the joy of this truth hold us close to you.
Reader: what’s the hottest fire you’ve ever been near? (For me, it’s the glass-blowing furnace at the Corning Glass museum.) Tell me about it.
Email me at bvanpatter@ailbe.org. And if you liked this, please use the buttons above to share it.
