Our Scripture lesson is about the story of Jeremiah. One day he was told by God to go to the Potter’s house. In Jeremiah’s time, about 700 years before Jesus was born, the potter’s workshop was a familiar, everyday sight for the people. Unlike today, the potter at that time was so indispensable a tradesman. He provided the people with the essential containers which they used to carry, store, serve, and cook. Today clay pots are generally used for decorations or for flower pots.
When I was a student, I used to go to Daro to buy some clay for Dr. Maquiso who taught us how to make teaching aides for children. And that was the time when they used to make the pots in Daro.
One day I tried to watch a potter make a piece of jar. I was intrigued. The potter took a lump of clay, kneaded it and then, on the potter’s wheel, he skillfully shaped it. When the potter did not like the shape, he would restart it and rework on it until he was satisfied. The potter patiently recreated, reformed the clay on the wheel until he or she was pleased with the outcome.
That made me realize that the process of creating a pot or jar involves an interaction between the potter and the clay–the creator and the created. According to one writer, “The creating becomes a ‘dance’ between the artist and materials.”
This then reminded me of what Jeremiah was talking about. If we look at our lives, we can compare ourselves to the jar or pot being created and re-created. There is a difference between who we are today, and who we were five or 10 years ago. Included in this are also certain flaws that need to be re-created. (There’s this bumper sticker that says, “Be patient with me. God is not finished with me yet.”)
When I was a chaplain intern at Davao Brokenshire Hospital, we used to visit the Mental Hospital. At that time, the place was smelly, dismal, dark, depressing, and charged with suspicion. The moment we went inside, we felt the stares and the suspicion of many of the patients.
In that stern and somber environment, there was this elderly woman who visited the place at least once a week. Whenever this woman came, she would kind of light up the place. She would be smiling warmly, and talking animatedly with the patients. As she walked about the hallway, she would greet patients by their first name, and talk to them in a kind and loving way. She was absolutely radiant. She was a ray of sunshine and a breath of fresh air in that sullen place.
One time she was asked to speak to us, chaplain interns. After she spoke, one of us said, “You bring a lot of love into this place with your smiling face and words.” “Chaplain,” she replied, “I decided a long time ago there are no strangers in my world; only brothers and sisters. Some of them I have not met yet.”
Reflecting on that experience later on, one of us said, “That lady drew out of me a deep and warm reaction of love.”
That day, we were taught that people are not one thing, good or bad, mentally sick or healthy, but many things. In every human being, there is warmth, love, affection, but there is also hurt, anger, weakness. In our interaction with each other, we stimulate or draw out of them one or the other.
I believe this was the genius of Jesus. He took people where they were, and loved them into life. This is precisely what Jesus did for those whose lives he touched. He was a living portrait of love in action. He took people where they were, and loved them into life, like a potter, transforming their lives.
Peter, an impetuous person who denied Jesus three times, was transformed into one who gave his life as a martyr. Paul, from one who persecuted Christians, became a man who helped established churches. That is why St. Paul told his readers, “When Christ is in you, you become a new creation.”
As you look at yourselves more closely, you may discover part of yourself which you have not known before or you ignored before. You may discover gifts that you can use in your work, gifts that you can use to relate better with your family or friends.
And sometimes you, too, can help transform the lives of others whom you come into contact with. And that, by itself, is a tremendous and exhilarating experience–to be used by God in helping change the lives of others with God’s love. You become the hands of the potter helping re-create lives around you.
And we need to submit our lives to the potter to be remolded. Jeremiah says that the pieces were selected for rework, “as it seemed good to the potter.”
A well known hymn by Adelaide Pollard in 1907, goes like this: Have Thine own way, Lord! Thou art the Potter! I am the clay! Mold me and make me, after Thy will! While I am waiting, yielded and still!
Sounds like a nice prayer, a wonderful song. But let me ask you: How many of us are truly “waiting, yielded and still?” That may be like an inanimate piece of clay that awaits the soft and skilled touch of the potter’s fingers.
For many of us, it would be difficult to do. However, here is the Good News: The very fact that we experience this process of the “rework” is evidence that God is yet working with us. God is not finished with us yet. We were sent to the “rework” and God’s merciful hands scooped us up, and placed us back on the upper wheel to make of us God’s own workmanship.
For some of us who have been broken by life, marred by circumstances, and damaged by situations until the vessel that contains our life cannot hold substance anymore, I’ve got a message of hope: “Go down to the potter’s house.” The Lord is down there, and he can take your brokenness and fix it; he can take your marred condition, and heal it. All you have to do is “go down to the potter’s house.”
The cost for us may be steep, for we have to abandon our ways to follow God’s way. The reward is inestimable for we experience the fullness of God’s persistent and steadfast love.
Lastly, there is this Filipino legend of the creation of the first human beings. When God created human beings, He got some clay, and worked on it for several days. After forming one male and one female, God placed them in the oven. But then, God was so busy he forgot to check the oven. After several hours, God opened the oven, and took what was placed inside. It was overcooked. And out of this came the black race; but God was not satisfied with it. So He got clay again, and worked on it for several days, and placed them in the oven. God was so anxious that it might be overcooked, so he got it too early. And that was the beginning of the white race. God was not satisfied with it either, so He got some clay. But this time, God was running out of clay. So He made the figure a little shorter. He placed them in the oven, and then just at the right time, God took them out, and it was perfect. And from this, started the brown race.
Now, this is just a legend, written by a Filipino, and intended to raise the pride of Filipinos. The point I want to share with you is that God continues to mold us–to shape and reshape us if we submit ourselves to God. Thanks be to God.
