I was thinking about that scripture this morning that says, “Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.” (Proverbs 27:17) and about how I have been lately enjoying the give and take between my brothers in the Lord as we discuss the scriptures. I started thinking of iron in the context of its properties. If the Bible compares men to iron, what kind of Iron am I?
Iron is probably the strongest and most useful of metals today.
Another name for it is steel. Although it is made out of the same kind of
stuff, depending on how it is tempered (heated and cooled) and mixed, it can be
used for very different purposes. This makes me think of how our different
backgrounds produce different results that can be used for different purposes
in God’s kingdom. We don’t have to be exactly same or see eye-to eye on
everything, we each have different purposes and different jobs. One is not
better than the other because of the things that made him who he is.
1 Corinthians 12:21
1 Corinthians 12:21
Reading information in Wikipedia on iron makes me think what
a wise and wondrous God we have to make all the correlations between the
natural and the spiritual. He probably did this even before creating iron.
After all, He had no beginning… that’s a long time He had to think about things
and how he wanted them before He spoke the first word of creation.
Wikipedia
"Iron is the most
common element (by mass) forming the planet Earth as a whole. Iron's very
common presence in rocky planets like Earth is due to its abundant production
as a result of fusion in high-mass stars, where the production of nickel-56
(which decays to the most common isotope of iron) is the last nuclear fusion reaction that is exothermic.
This causes radioactive nickel to become the last element to be produced before
collapse of a supernova leads to the explosive events."
In other words, God made it to be the last thing that is formed before “explosive events” of great magnitude happen. Is it a coincidence that the feet in Daniel 2:34 were made of IRON mixed with clay? I think not.
In other words, God made it to be the last thing that is formed before “explosive events” of great magnitude happen. Is it a coincidence that the feet in Daniel 2:34 were made of IRON mixed with clay? I think not.
The supernova
that results from iron under fusion makes me think differently about how the stone
cut out of the mountain without hands struck the image (the image of man that was worshiped
instead of God) on the feet. Perhaps the
results of smiting the image on the feet were understated. A supernova would
seem to explain the next verse, Daniel 2:35 pretty well.
Most christians today look at iron and clay mixed as a bad thing, but is it really? I think it depends on your perspective. Does our perspective line up with God's?
Before you go on, please read:
"A Warning - Straight From My Heart" if you haven't already.
In God's perspective, I think it is a good thing we are made of iron and clay. Both iron and clay are good things. Proverbs 27:17 refers to iron in the positive, man was made out of the dust of the earth, clay if you will, and God declared it as not just "good", but "very good". God wants us us to be iron that sharpens iron, and as clay, moldable to His will. How long has He worked with people through history to bring them to this point? Where they are both iron and clay mixed?
God created both iron and clay for a reason, for different purposes. They are good things, just incompatible when mixed as a foundation for evil. The composition of the feet was just a statement of fact. Will we try and pretend we are not a people, comprised of both iron and clay because our perspective makes us think it is evil? God forbid.
As a supporting structure, these feet, are a composition inherantly unstable to what God hates, idolatry. Being both iron and clay allows Jesus to obliterate the idol of man, reducing the nations to "people" that will become part of the mountain that fills the whole earth. The project He has been working on since the Curse of Cain will come to fruition and He will have a people that will become one with Him. Acts 15:14 A people that will have Christ as their head instead of man. 1 Corinthians 11:3
Food for thought…
(Thanks Mark for
finding this poem and posting it.)
The Potter and the Clay
In joy I remember the potter’s first touch
I was young at the time, but his presence meant much
But the clay I was formed of was stubborn and stiff
But I thought I was good clay; He’d be done in a jiff
Through most of the night He worked with my clay
Forming and shaping, but I would not stay
A little more water, and working it deep
He again formed that shape that I would not keep
Slowly He straightened and set me aside
“He knows I’m perfect!” inside me I cried
I thought I was special; why, He’d set me alone
High on a shelf that was mine all alone
As He worked with others I lived in my cloud
And He set them lower; I stood there so proud
Then taking the others, He opened the door
And placing them inside, He went back for more
Then, counting, He said, “I’m short only one
And my work must be finished before morning sun”
Quickly He looked to His clay bowl so bare
Then slowly He turned and gave me a long stare
I stood there so haughty; I knew He would come
I was that special one that He had done
He picked me down gently, and looking me o’er
He shook His head slowly, then opened that door
Why, hundreds of others! We all looked the same!
Then the heat came on quickly; I screamed out in pain
Heat, white-hot, with flames rising high
The others stood watching, but I started to cry
I looked for the potter, with eyes full of tears
“Why can’t He see me? Why isn’t He here?”
Fear swallowed me up, like dark in a cave
I could think of but one thing, and that was escape!
Squirming and turning, no more could I take
I felt myself falling; I heard something break
When I woke, I was sitting alone on that shelf
Where I thought to be special, so proud of myself
“I’m alright!” I cried out, to suddenly stop
A long, jagged crack ran from bottom to top
I was perfect, I thought; I was the best
‘Cause He’d taken more time with me than the rest
I tried to call out, but my voice wasn’t clear
So distorted and weak that He couldn’t hear
He looked not around; He never looked higher
Than to see all the others that still stood in the fire
How could they stand it down there in that kiln?
To take all that heat and stay perfectly still
I heard Him exclaim and give a great shout
And raising His hand, He turned the flame out
Then the oven door opened and I saw them again
They stood there in beauty, who started so plain
The fire had done it, I now understood
That the heat I had fled from was just for my good
But, too late for me, I was broken and marred
My own will had set up and left me too hard
The potter kept searching, as He muttered low
“I’m all out of clay and there’s one more to go!”
Then He looked over to where I still lay
And shaking His head, He started my way
Quickly He walked to where He’d put me down
He picked me up gently and looked all around
As He held me I cried out with all of my soul
“Potter, don’t scrap me! Make me again whole!”
Then, smiling, He took and He broke me apart
And back toward the potter’s wheel I saw Him start
Then slowly and surely He softened the clay
And working with water, kneaded the stiffness away
On the wheel where He’d placed me I held very still
As deftly He worked and shaped me to His will
As He worked on, His eyes shone and His touch was so cool
So intensely He watched as I turned on His tool
Suddenly His shaping had come to an end
And I knew that the real test was about to begin
This was the test I had failed once before
And my heart almost stopped as He opened the door
Then setting me gently, He turned on the fire
And watching me closer, He turned it up higher
He stood watching closely to see how I would fare
But this time I took it; I knew He was there
And as the heat tempered me there in that kiln
He knew I had yielded to His perfect will
“A little while longer in heat like the sun”
I heard Him exclaim, “and then you’ll be done”
When the heat died, I knew it was o’er
I stood there rejoicing and watching the door
Quickly it opened, and His hand I could see
And grasping me firmly, it lifted me free
He turned me and squeezed me and struck me as well
But the sound I gave off was as clear as a bell
He placed me with others who had passed His inspection
Who had come, just as I had, through the fire to perfection
And as He placed me with others who had waited so long
From thousands of voices there burst a new song
It’s what they’ll be used for that’s caused them to sing
They are vessels of honor in the house of the King
(Copyright 1974 by Robert Caldwell)
In joy I remember the potter’s first touch
I was young at the time, but his presence meant much
But the clay I was formed of was stubborn and stiff
But I thought I was good clay; He’d be done in a jiff
Through most of the night He worked with my clay
Forming and shaping, but I would not stay
A little more water, and working it deep
He again formed that shape that I would not keep
Slowly He straightened and set me aside
“He knows I’m perfect!” inside me I cried
I thought I was special; why, He’d set me alone
High on a shelf that was mine all alone
As He worked with others I lived in my cloud
And He set them lower; I stood there so proud
Then taking the others, He opened the door
And placing them inside, He went back for more
Then, counting, He said, “I’m short only one
And my work must be finished before morning sun”
Quickly He looked to His clay bowl so bare
Then slowly He turned and gave me a long stare
I stood there so haughty; I knew He would come
I was that special one that He had done
He picked me down gently, and looking me o’er
He shook His head slowly, then opened that door
Why, hundreds of others! We all looked the same!
Then the heat came on quickly; I screamed out in pain
Heat, white-hot, with flames rising high
The others stood watching, but I started to cry
I looked for the potter, with eyes full of tears
“Why can’t He see me? Why isn’t He here?”
Fear swallowed me up, like dark in a cave
I could think of but one thing, and that was escape!
Squirming and turning, no more could I take
I felt myself falling; I heard something break
When I woke, I was sitting alone on that shelf
Where I thought to be special, so proud of myself
“I’m alright!” I cried out, to suddenly stop
A long, jagged crack ran from bottom to top
I was perfect, I thought; I was the best
‘Cause He’d taken more time with me than the rest
I tried to call out, but my voice wasn’t clear
So distorted and weak that He couldn’t hear
He looked not around; He never looked higher
Than to see all the others that still stood in the fire
How could they stand it down there in that kiln?
To take all that heat and stay perfectly still
I heard Him exclaim and give a great shout
And raising His hand, He turned the flame out
Then the oven door opened and I saw them again
They stood there in beauty, who started so plain
The fire had done it, I now understood
That the heat I had fled from was just for my good
But, too late for me, I was broken and marred
My own will had set up and left me too hard
The potter kept searching, as He muttered low
“I’m all out of clay and there’s one more to go!”
Then He looked over to where I still lay
And shaking His head, He started my way
Quickly He walked to where He’d put me down
He picked me up gently and looked all around
As He held me I cried out with all of my soul
“Potter, don’t scrap me! Make me again whole!”
Then, smiling, He took and He broke me apart
And back toward the potter’s wheel I saw Him start
Then slowly and surely He softened the clay
And working with water, kneaded the stiffness away
On the wheel where He’d placed me I held very still
As deftly He worked and shaped me to His will
As He worked on, His eyes shone and His touch was so cool
So intensely He watched as I turned on His tool
Suddenly His shaping had come to an end
And I knew that the real test was about to begin
This was the test I had failed once before
And my heart almost stopped as He opened the door
Then setting me gently, He turned on the fire
And watching me closer, He turned it up higher
He stood watching closely to see how I would fare
But this time I took it; I knew He was there
And as the heat tempered me there in that kiln
He knew I had yielded to His perfect will
“A little while longer in heat like the sun”
I heard Him exclaim, “and then you’ll be done”
When the heat died, I knew it was o’er
I stood there rejoicing and watching the door
Quickly it opened, and His hand I could see
And grasping me firmly, it lifted me free
He turned me and squeezed me and struck me as well
But the sound I gave off was as clear as a bell
He placed me with others who had passed His inspection
Who had come, just as I had, through the fire to perfection
And as He placed me with others who had waited so long
From thousands of voices there burst a new song
It’s what they’ll be used for that’s caused them to sing
They are vessels of honor in the house of the King
(Copyright 1974 by Robert Caldwell)
Excellent words, we've been discussing this recently. Interesting.....Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteSeems like there's good clay (Jesus healed the blind man's eyes by applying it) and bad clay (Daniel 2:41-43 calls it MIRY clay mixed with iron), emphasizing that the last kingdom was partly strong and partly weak. Verse 43 seems to indicate that the miry clay is the seed of men.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I may have read the last paragraph wrong, but when the man image crumbled, it was not the pieces that grew into the mountain, but the little stone that took the image down. The crumbled pieces all the pieces blew away as the chaff of the summer threshing floor. (Daniel 2:35)
Good read, though.
Spirit Watcher, very good point! I never saw that before. It does talk about two types of clay, Potter’s clay and miry clay. I reading this I would look at this as Potter’s clay as a good thing (like the poem) and miry clay as the seed of fallen man. It brings to mind the parable of the wheat and tares growing together.
ReplyDeleteLet me see if I can explain how I look at Daniel 2:35
"Then was the iron, the clay, the brass, the silver, and the gold, broken to pieces together, and became like the chaff of the summer threshingfloors; and the wind carried them away, that no place was found for them: and the stone that smote the image became a great mountain, and filled the whole earth."
Daniel 2:44 says, “And in the days of these kings shall the God of heaven set up a kingdom, which shall never be destroyed: and the kingdom shall not be left to other people, but it shall break in pieces and CONSUME all these kingdoms, and it shall stand for ever.”
When we CONSUME something, you eat it; it becomes part of you. Yes, it ceases to be what it once was, but it is changed, translated into life, it becomes something new. 2 Corinthians 5:4, 17 (SWALLOWED up of LIFE); John 14:6 (Jesus saith unto him, I AM THE … LIFE) and Deuteronomy 4:23-31 (God is a CONSUMING fire).
This is why I said that the scattered pieces will become part of the mountain that will fill the whole earth. God will have a people for the glory of the Lord and they will fill the whole earth. Numbers 14:21