One day years ago, as I was walking along in the suburbs of a city, I came
to a large shed with wide-open doors. My attention was attracted by the
sound of blows; and as I came opposite the door, I saw some workmen at the
back end of the shed busily at work. Near the door on a small platform
stood a large irregular piece of stone. Standing by it was a man with a
large chisel in one hand and a heavy mallet in the other. As I looked he
walked up to the stone and began to knock great pieces off it with chisel
and mallet. I paused to watch him, my curiosity aroused to know what he
was doing in his apparently aimless work.
As I watched, he continued breaking large flakes and pieces from the
stone; and so far as I could see, he was just simply breaking it to
pieces. I wondered what he wanted such pieces of stone for. But presently
he began to kick them out of the way as if he had no use for them, and so
I wondered still more what he was doing. After a time he stepped over to
his work-box, took another chisel and a lighter mallet, and began to knock
off more pieces of the stone. For a long time this continued. I could not
tell what the outcome would be. So far I had seen nothing but destruction.
From time to time he changed tools; but still he cut away pieces of stone
in the same seemingly aimless fashion. At length he began to cut
depressions into the stone here and there.
A long time I watched him, still wondering. At last he made a few quick
strokes on one end of the stone, and I saw the outline of a head appear. A
few more strokes, and I exclaimed within myself, “A lion!” I watched until
the head became more distinct and life-like. Then under the quick strokes
of the biting chisel, one paw appeared, then another; and as I watched,
the whole figure took outline, and I knew that what seemed to be only an
aimless work of destruction was instead the skilled work of a sculptor.
I had seen only the block of stone; but within that block of stone he had
seen the beautiful figure of the king of beasts. The work that seemed to
me to be without purpose, now proved to have been full of purpose. The
pieces of stone cut off were merely so much waste-material that hid the
beautiful statue.
I knew now that what would be left of the stone after the sculptor had
completed his work would go to adorn some fine building and to be looked
upon and admired by many people. No one had admired it in its former
state. It was only a block of stone, unattractive and of little value. But
it would now be a thing of beauty to be treasured. Yet that change could
take place only when the sharp steel had bitten away all useless parts.
I went away thoughtful. I realized that that was a great allegory of life.
The great Sculptor sees in every human being, no matter how rough and
irregular, great possibilities. Whereas we can see only the exterior, he
sees within the potential image with which he would adorn his glorious
building above. Man was created in the image of God, but that image is now
obscured by sin and its results. And so the divine Sculptor must do with
us as the sculptor did with the stone. He must bring to bear upon us the
sharp chisel of circumstances, of disappointment, of trial. It seems that
these things will destroy us. It seems that these things are evil, and we
shrink from them. Some think that God is not just toward them. Some cry
out in pain. Some mourn and lament. Some cry to God to stay his hand. And
many, oh, how many! rebel. They can not see what it means. They feel that
it is all wrong. Sometimes they murmur against God and their hearts grow
bitter; but all the time the Master Sculptor with his sharp chisel of pain
is only trying to carve in their natures and characters his own image.
You want to be in his image, do you not? You desire the beautiful lines of
righteousness, purity, truth, meekness, faithfulness, and kindness to
appear in you. You want to be a part of the adornment of the heavenly
temple. If you would be not a mere block of stone without form or beauty,
but the image of the Creator, you must let Pain do her work in you; there
is only one way. Christian character comes only through pain. If you
shrink and murmur or if you rebel, that image may be marred forever.
Think not that God will let your life be ruined. He wants you for the
adornment of his palace. So when pain comes—the pain of sorrow, of
bereavement, of temporal loss, of being reproached and having your name
cast out as evil, of being wounded by the tongue of slander—in whatever
form pain comes to you, hold still; bear it patiently; it will work out in
your life God’s great design.
Would you have patience? You must have many things to try your patience.
Would you have meekness? You can obtain it only through endurance. Would
you have faith? You must meet and overcome many obstacles. God puts in us
latent qualities of good, but these can be brought to view in the solid
structure of Christian character only by long and continued chiseling.
“Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try
you, as though some strange thing happened unto you” (1 Pet. 4: 12).
“Which _is_ to try you”—did you ever notice that? It does not say which
_may_ try you or which _probably_ will try you; it says, “Which _is_ to
try you.” That signifies that it was _intended_ to try you. It was meant
for that purpose; it does not come by accident. Trials are necessary. If
you are ever to be what God wants you to be, you need trials, you must
have them; you can never be strong or patient or meek or brave or possess
any other virtue God wants you to have unless you stand the test. “Many
shall be purified, made white, and tried.” God will do the purifying; and
he will also see that we get our “trying.” “After that ye have suffered a
while,” Peter says, God will “make you perfect, stablish, strengthen,
settle you.”
The chisel pain must do its work. Even Jesus was “made perfect through
suffering.” Let us bear it manfully, yea, joyfully, knowing that it will
leave its mark upon us, even the mark of our Lord Jesus Christ. It will
bring out the beauty and richness of the Christ-life and fit us to be in
His presence forever.