Jeremiah 18:1-11
“The vessel he was making of clay was spoiled in the potter’s hand, and he reworked it into another vessel, as seemed good to him. Then the word of the LORD came to me: Can I not do with you, O house of Israel, just as this potter has done? says the LORD. Just like the clay in the potter’s hand, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel” (Jeremiah 18:4-6)
The prophet Jeremiah makes a visit to his local potter and somewhere along the line of waiting for that new soup bowl to be finished in the kiln (this was item number six on his wife’s “honey-do” list; just 12 more items to go!), he witnessed the potter destroy the pitcher he was working on. Curious, Jeremiah asked him why he did that, and the potter explained that though he had worked hard on it and though he was skilled, well, it just wasn’t coming together like it should. The potter knew from experience that anything short of a perfect jug isn’t going to survive the heat of the kiln. Moreover, he knew that once it was fired in the kiln, he could never manipulate it again. It was set – either as a useful tool or a useless hunk of junk.
The potter, whose hands were forever shedding little fragments of clay – even after he had washed them for dinner – loved the clay enough (it was basically a part of him now) to want each lump to become its ideal destiny. Jeremiah nodded, was astounded by the poetic depths of this otherwise seemingly simple potter, and all of the sudden heard God speaking to him. It was about fetching lamb for dinner that night… oh, wait, that was the voice of his wife. Oh! There it is. There was God’s voice. And God was telling Jeremiah, “I am the Potter. You – and all of Israel – are the clay. Don’t you see? When the potter smashed the malformed jug back into a lump, when he added water to it (side note: nice foreshadowing of baptism there, eh?) to re-moisten it, when he started punching, prodding, and pushing it around again, he wasn’t hating the clay. He was loving it. So it is for me with you.”
Jeremiah was intrigued; “Say more, Lord. Say more.” “Okay,” said Yahweh, “Well, though your potter is well-skilled, he is nowhere near my skill level as God.” (“Naturally,” thought Jeremiah). “And it isn’t that the potter failed; it’s that the clay was spoiled in his hand. We needn’t dwell on how or why it was spoiled, but neither can we neglect the fact that it was.” (“Fair enough,” mused Jeremiah). “And it is because the potter knows what the clay doesn’t – namely that it is bound for the hottest heat – that the potter wants to perfect the clay. The heat is unavoidable – it is essential even – and that’s all the more reason to keep working it into perfection.”
“Okay,” Jeremiah said, “But what does that have to do with your people, O Lord?” “Ah, my son,” God continued, “There is a refining fire to come for everyone. Those who haven’t had their lives manipulated by my hands aren’t liable to make it through such a fire. They will bend or break in that heat. I love you and would spare you that. I would rather work harshly with you now so that you’re refined for perfection later than to be slovenly with you now and watch your demise in the kiln. Besides, beyond the heat, I have made you for a purpose. You are to be useful – fruitful – for me and my Kingdom. A jug that can’t carry water is not useful; a bowl with a large crack goes unused. And so, I must put my hand to you, O Israel, once again so that I might equip you for my mission to come. One day, I promise my child, you will know why I kept you on the potter’s wheel for so long. You must trust me.”
Friends, in whatever way you feel like you’re getting beat on, punched, pushed around, and heated up, trust that it is the Potter’s Hands at work and that today’s trials are but prologue to tomorrow’s glory. Amen.
