I've written about this before, but I don't think it was on this blog. The process of making a traditional Japanese katana has been on my mind recently, and it's something that has stood out to me for years. It's an amazing process that produces the most perfect swords the world has ever known.
The sword begins with an iron sand called tamahagane that is heated until it becomes solid metal. At this point the best pieces are selected and sent to the sword smith, a master craftsman, who takes the pieces he has received and further evaluates them, selecting only the best of those pieces to be forged into the sword. The process begins, the steel is heated, hammered, folded, over and over until the individual pieces become a unified whole. The blade is formed, heated and cooled, coated with clay, baked and cooled to give it the shape as well as different hardness between the edge and spine of the blade (this gives the cutting edge strength and durability, while allowing the spine to absorb vibrations from the impact of another sword during a fight).
When the blade is finally completed it is sharpened, polished, and then the handle is wrapped and it is fitted for a scabbard. The entire process takes around six months for a single sword, but when it is completed you have the perfect blade. The way the edge is formed makes it so that the sword almost never needs to be resharpened. The way that the steel is folded makes for a nearly indestructible blade. These things are amazing, beautiful, deadly, and I really want one, but the $3,500 price tag (and that's for a new one made in the traditional method here in the states) is a bit too high for me to justify.
This imagery has stood out in my mind as being relevant for so many things in life. It's perfect for a marriage, broken pieces becoming one and forming something amazing. It's an image of redemption, God taking something common, the dust of the earth, and making an amazing weapon He will use for His kingdom.
In all this, the thing that keeps hitting me at the moment is the process. Making a katana is an art form that is done by a master. These blades are deadly, and need to be wielded by a master. I've realized that as much as I would love to be the Samurai in this image, I'm not, and I'm not the blade smith either. In this image, I'm the tamahagane sand. God is the one who takes this sand and turns it into something He can use for His glory. It isn't an easy process, nor is it a fast one. It is slow, tedious, and intentional, but the end result is perfection.
The past few years of my life has been a time of forging. I've been heated, hammered, folded, over and over, and I feel that maybe God is finally starting to do some shaping of the blade, that's a big maybe. The process is slow and intense, but it's intentional and the end result is flawless perfection.
When I read the Bible I see that everything is moving towards this state of perfected restoration; God is taking creation back to the beginning, back to the garden. Eternity will not be a time of sitting on clouds playing harps, but a time where man has an assigned task of ruling the earth and subduing it, fulfilling the original assignment of Eden. With this in mind, I see this life as the forging process. God uses the trials we face to form, sharpen, and polish the blade, and it is at death when the katana is finished, placed in the scabbard, and presented to the warrior for use in battle.
This life is merely preparation for the next one, and it is in that life where we will fulfill God's original design.
Embrace the process of forging, knowing you are being shaped by a master in order to be wielded by a master.
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
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