Last eve I passed beside a blacksmith’s door,A good friend of mine read this poem in a sermon he preached a few months ago. I listened to it recently and loved the imagery of the poem, as he spoke of the Word of God, the Bible. People have been hammering out the Bible for years and years, going way, way back in time. How many have worn themselves out. It is true, it has held up, it is the Word of God. Would you expect anything else?
And heard the anvil ring the vesper chime;
The, looking in, I saw upon the floor
Old hammers, worn with beating years of time.
“How many anvils have you had,” said I,
“To wear and batter all these hammers so?”
“Just one,” said he, and then with twinkling eye,
“The anvil wears the hammers out, you know.”
And so, thought I, the anvil of God’s Word,
For ages skeptic blows have beat upon;
Yet, though the noise of falling blows was heard,
The anvil is unharmed – the hammers gone.
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