Clay in the Potter's Hands
I have to say it has been delightful to explore the text through dialogues these past few weeks. Thanks for trying new things, trying new ways of receiving the Word.
Today, we’re going to use dialogue in a slightly different way. More about that later, but for now, if you are here on site this morning, I want you to take out that sweet little container of playdoh that you received on your way in. And you should do what one does with playdoh – play, that is. Take it out (if you haven’t already). Warm it up in your hands (not so hard to do today). Enjoy that smell of childhood.
If you are joining us online – maybe you have a stash of modeling clay or playdoh at home. Or maybe some Legos. Or markers and paper. Or your journal and a pen. I want to encourage you to doodle or fidget with something while you listen today.
When I was a young mom with young kids, we spent a lot of time on the Outer Banks. We always stayed on Hatteras, and on our very first visit, we located a pottery shop – Red Drum Pottery. The couple that owned the place were there in studio, and the wife, Rhonda, was working at the wheel. The kids were fascinated.
Wes, who was/and is a father himself of a son about my son’s age, took the kids under his wing to tell them a little bit about pottery. He gave each of them a piece of clay to take home and promised them that if they brought back a creation, he would fire it and send it to them.
The long story short here is that while the kids DID pinch small pots, they never received them from Wes and Rhonda. We waited breathlessly for a while, but like kids do, they eventually forgot. While I was disappointed on their behalf, I understood the process of working with clay. Getting something to fire successfully, especially something formed by tiny hands with no skill, was a big commitment. I always assumed their pots fell apart in a kiln or were deemed to delicate for the kiln.
While our scriptures today echo themes of the Maker making, each comes at it in different ways. The psalmist seems to be offering praise for the way they themself, as an individual, has been created by God – how that creation process reflects God’s wisdom, care, love and involvement.
In contrast, the prophecy we heard from Jeremiah is about the “house of Israel,” God’s covenant people.
Jeremiah witnesses the potter at the wheel. The first pot thrown is spoiled – something is not quite right.
Have you ever really watched a potter at work? First they have to choose their clay – clean and without foreign objects - and then they have to compact it, manipulate the formless blob to remove air pockets. Then they begin by centering their clay on the wheel. With body weight and careful hands and water, finding the center of the wheel ensures a balanced piece – a piece that responds to hands, fingers, knives. Too much pressure, too much water, not enough pressure, too much speed. The pot may collapse, blow out, topple. The base may be too thick, the rim too delicate. And all of that is before it is removed from the wheel and transferred to a place to dry. Once dry, it goes into the kiln…and at nearly 2000 degrees, moisture, impurities, or air pockets (or so many other things) may causes firing to fail.
Point is, there are a lot of things that mess up pottery.
And so, Jeremiah sees the potter remake a new pot from the form that had been spoiled earlier in their hands.
The LORD says to Jeremiah, can’t I do the same thing with the house of Israel? When its form is destroyed, can’t I start over and do a new thing? Just like the potter…
I am guilty of thinking a lot about my own form. My own “made-ness” that is fearful and wonderful, often uncomfortable and longing for something different.
But I think this Jeremiah text calls us to look at our forms in a collective way. We are not the house of Israel to which Jeremiah was called to prophesy, but as the church, we are in a covenant relationship with God. We are called to love what God loves and to move with God in the world around us.
And so I think about all of our individual forms, fearfully and wonderfully made, unique and gifted but also with their inevitable human flaws and foibles.
Show me what your playdoh looks like right now…hold it up. Look around, folks. If you are online, you might be able to post an image in the chat, or describe what you’ve done…
And then I think about God gathering that all up to make something solid and strong, full of purpose to God’s Kin-dom.
I know that “church” doesn’t look the way that some of us remember it looking…the way we remember it looking 30 years ago. The way we remember it looking 10 years ago. The way we remember it looking 3 years ago.
But I am confident that the potter is at the wheel, having surveyed the brokenness, the fault lines, the mess, the spoiled piece…and rather than walking away, God is making it all new and unspoiled and vibrant, with purpose – a vessel that serves a new need, a new season.
Are we willing to let ourselves, our one-ness, our fearfully and wonderfully made-ness be a part of God’s larger work?
I wonder, as you have been sitting here, what have you made with your playdoh? At home, what have you created? And if you are with someone, what have they created?
For the next few minutes, I invite you to find a neighbor – this is your chance to dialogue.
What do you hear in today’s scripture? How do you understand the potter at the wheel in this time?
OR, maybe you might just tell someone about how you felt playing with playdoh today.
OR, if you are feeling really brave and vulnerable, talk a little bit about what you think might be fearfully and wonderfully part of who God has created you to be. And then, how you understand this idea of your uniqueness as part of the larger whole here at Faith.
We’ll leave a few moments for conversation, and then we’ll say thanks to God as we share communion together.
Comments
Post a Comment