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November 20th 2009
I love the way the Bible uses very simple everyday stories to illustrate how life works. The prophet Jeremiah described the process of maturing, by telling of a potter he visited.
Just like us, making pottery begins with something almost worthless. A couple of pounds of raw clay sells for only a dollar, and the most basic elements that make up your or my body are worth about the same. It is important for us to remember that we were made out of plain old dirt. (The word human actually comes from the word for dirt—humus.) The fact that we are basically just dirt should help us stay humble. (Note the same root word.)
Then the master potter carefully centers us on the potter’s wheel. That wheel is a picture of our world. We have each been sovereignly placed right where the Master wants us to be. And so the wheel begins turning.
A couple of notes about the process of clay turning on the wheel; one is that there must be plenty of water used, and two is that it requires a lot more skill than we’d at first think. The potter must keep both, her hands and the clay very wet. We need daily, liberal application of the water of life (a picture of God’s influence) in our lives. The Master and he perform their miracles of shaping us into their desired image in harmony with each other.
One of the problems that keeps clay from becoming a perfect pot is air. Air in the clay will eventually destroy it—like hot air in us. By hot air in us, I mean self-adulation, pride or self-reliance. I was surprised to hear that the potter has to shape the moist clay into a tower shape, then smash it down and repeat the process four or five times just to get the air out. And we wonder what God’s doing when he smashes us down four or five times for every major life lesson that we learn.
At last the inexpensive hunk of clay begins to look like something—perhaps it’s going to be a vase for flowers. But Jeremiah saw another problem. In his metaphor, a very tiny speck of sand appeared and began to cut an unsightly groove into the shapely vase. The Master potter would have been disappointed, but not discouraged. He’s seen it happen before. He deftly took his well-trained fingers and cut away the scarred material and the grain of sand; started the wheel again and smoothed out the flaw. But alas, another grain appeared, and then another. By that time, the potter would have been deeply saddened. The clay that he had chosen would not be pure enough to make the flower vase that he’d hoped. So he would smash it down once again and remake it into a more crude dish.
We’ve all met people who have been so badly scarred by life that they will likely never become the person that the Master originally intended. But thank God when that happens, he doesn’t smash us down and throw us out. Rather he makes us into a plan B bowl. He loves us too much and cares too much to render us useless.
So we finally see what we were intended to be a mother, father, teacher, leader, servant, etc. we’re now ready for action. So we think.
No. Rather than start to use us for what we’ve been designed, God sets us on the shelf for a while—a long while. Do you ever wonder if you’ve been forgotten by God? He hasn’t forgotten you, but has simply set you on the shelf until the right time. In the pottery business it may be several days, while in real life it may be several years.
Then into the furnace again! The Master potter turns the flame up to a mercilessly high heat of 1900 degrees and sets his creation into the midst of the fire. Ouch! Hours pass. With porcelain, I’m told that the molded dolls sit in an even hotter fire for twenty-five hours. But what can we say; the hotter the fire the better the end product.
Finally, thank God, the furnace door is opened and the bisque (white cooked clay) is removed. For sure now, we’re ready to fulfill the great purpose for which we were specially crafted.
No, not quite yet. Colorful glazes are skillfully applied. Those finishing touches put on by the touch of the Master’s well-trained hands make the product truly beautiful. To look at the mature creation, a person would say, “Wow, what a work of art. What a genius designer.” Finally I, the colorful vase, am ready to go to work.
Believe it or not, the Master places the glazed vase back into the 1900 degree furnace to set it s colours. Isn’t that just like life? We think we should be ready at nineteen or twenty years old. School is finished and we’re ready to take the world by the tail.
But can you imagine if you tried to pour water into an unbaked clay vase? It would all seep out again. Too often we promote or applaud people far too early. They need a lot more shelf life and furnace time before they will be ready to accomplish their life purpose.
- Barry Buzza
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