februare

So I read the other day that the word February comes from the Latin word februare—“to purify.” I found this out back in January, and somehow the beauty in this etymology made me long for the month. I contemplated a gtalk status or some other such display of this word, and then promptly forgot about it. Until room inspections. Under the piles of books and curriculum materials, I found again the little volume that spoke of this purifying month. And I remembered.

I think it’s fitting that in this februare month, we’ve experienced massive snowfalls that are rumored to have out-blizzarded anything on record for a very long time. And as good friends keep reminding—we are whiter than snow. Wow, what a beautiful metaphor.

But I started thinking about this more. We all know that in our justification, we have already been made white as snow. But in our sanctification, there is yet a long way to go. But the metaphor is lasting in its application. A sinless Savior still perfects snow-pure sanctification in His people.

How is this accomplished? Scripture talks about the refining fire and the fuller’s soap and the cleansing, trying of our faith that will make us pure, like unto the fresh fallen snow. And these metaphors are wonderful….but the beauty of snow keeps coming back into my mind.

These past few days, we’ve seen blizzard like conditions sweep through our neighborhood, making travel perilous, halting visibility, and quite frankly, making us plain cold. So I’ve spent several days from sunrise to sunset watching as the snow fell, fell, fell. I couldn’t see far at all—at times, the windows were completely covered. Still it snowed on. And then the snow stopped, and the sun shone, and my eyes were blinded.

Friends, do you see how many parallels there are between a snow storm and our Christian life? At times, the snow falls heavy—the storms have come and we cannot see. We feel that travel—any pilgrimage—would be dangerous, so we hunker down and stop pressing forward. Or we think the cold is just too painful, and we don’t go on any further.

But then there’s the sunshine. We are told that those who look to Him are radiant. Have you stopped to see the snow lately? It’s radiant—blinding even. Our lives should blind the world, for He came to “purify unto Himself a peculiar people.” Our lives, snow-driven white in their purity, will blind the world and their eyes will turn away in shame. Yet our faces are radiant and unashamed.

Februare. To purify, there must needs be a purifier. Thank God that He has completed, and still at this very moment is completing, this work in our lives.