Genuine | Wayfarer

“Son of man, the people of Israel have become dross to me; all of them are the copper, tin, iron and lead left inside a furnace. They are but the dross of silver.” Ezekiel 22:18 (NIV)

In today’s chapter God uses the metaphor, or word picture, of dross to describe the ancient nation of Judah, the city of Jerusalem and the people (specifically the rulers and power brokers). So, this morning I’ve been doing a little internet search on metallurgy and learning about dross.

Dross is solid waste material made up of impurities and appears when you fire metal with intense heat into it’s molten, liquid form. The impure dross floats on top of the molten metal and, in the way it would have been dealt with in Ezekiel’s day, was skimmed off as waste.

The word picture is clear to those who had been following and listening to Ezekiel’s messages. The fire of God’s judgement would reveal the impurities in the rulers of Jerusalem, marked by corruption, idolatry, and moral failure. When the heat was turned up (the Babylonians were coming to lay siege to Jerusalem) the corrupt and impure leaders would be skimmed away like dross off of molten metal.

The thing I love about the metaphors God uses throughout His Message is that they are layered with meaning across time and space. Over 500 years later God would speak through Simon Peter in his letter to persecuted Jesus followers scattered across the land:

In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.

Once again we find the fires of persecution blazing, this time in the form of the Roman persecution of anyone claiming to be a follower of Jesus. Instead of the fire revealing and skimming off the dross, the fires accomplish a different purpose. The fire refines and reveals the genuine gold, which is the faith of those who were willing to be thrown to the lions in the Roman Circus rather than recant their belief in Jesus.

Today, I am reminded that all of our lives are subject to times of suffering intense heat in circumstances that can run the gamut from judgement to persecution to tragic circumstances that defy reason. I have learned along life’s journey, however, that there is purpose in the pain. Suffering reveals things about our souls and our character. It separates the pure metal from the dross. For those who have faith to see, we find inexplicable joy amidst the suffering.

Living Neon — from El Caganer via Flicker

For I am waiting for you, O Lord.
You must answer for me, O Lord my God.
Psalm 38:15 (NLT)

I once worked for a man who had everything going for him in the world. He was a popular, respected man in the community, in the media, and in the local church. His spit-polished, picture perfect life was regularly and subtly trotted out as the ideal for others to aspire. It did not take me long to figure out how much of that was window-dressing.

Sometimes we look back at pieces of our journey and, in hindsight, realize why we needed to know certain people or do certain things. For me, my tenure working for Mr. Perfect was an imortant lesson in who I did not want to be. Everyone has their faults, even those whose lives are decorated for public consumption.

One of the things I love about King David’s songs is his gut wrenching honesty. Today’s psalm is Exhibit A. How many kings are going to write a blues song about their sin, guilt and shame and admit to the consequences of sin in their current troubles? I appreciate David’s genuine honesty and his willingness to be human despite the pressure to appear god-like in his royalty.

Many years ago a close friend who intimately knew my whole story observed that my life was a “slow deconstruction” of the very type of picture perfect image my old boss wore so effortlessly. I see the truth in what he was saying. Keep the wrecking ball going. I’d prefer to be like David with all of the pain and heartache which comes from living genuinely.

Jesus called me to live in such a way that I might be light to those living in darkness. The further I get in life’s journey the more I’ve come to believe that those in darkness are not drawn to a flashy, neon mirage of perfection that seems so foreign to them. I think they are drawn to the subtle flicker of genuine sinners saved by grace.