Jeremiah 18:1
I am currently enrolled in a ceramics class to meet a couple studio art requirements for my graduate program. After finally getting past the stage where everything looked like a blob, I think it’s safe to say that I have found my therapeutic art for life. Much to my surprise, it is easy to become captivated in playing with dirt. It isn’t until I get that sore shoulder, or lower back strain, that I realize that 5 hours have passed!!
Originally, I would sit at the wheel with my favorite music playing and see it as a form of entertainment. But lately I’ve decided to attempt working with the clay in silence. In the moments of silence, I found it easier for the artistic process to become an expression of prayer. It was this unity with art that even moved me to tears the other day. In the simple action of carefully smoothing away an uneven spot in the clay, I felt a true understanding of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Having the clay in my hands, I felt as though I was holding a mirror to myself-where all of my imperfections were exposed in order to allow for the sensitive process of refinement to begin. In this, I thought of the passage Jeremiah 18:1-4.
In the passage Christ says to Jeremiah, go down to the potters house to learn something there. When he went down he saw the potter working with clay for the purpose of making a ceramic vessel. As he described, the clay was marred in the potter’s hands. This made the potter look at the vessel with its defects and say, "Well, I am going to make this into another kind of a vessel.”
Then Christ said to Jeremiah “Now you, my people, are like the clay in my hands.” Looking at what was in front of me, I thought: why would Christ give this specific comparison? I think most of us avoid being likened to dirt- something so utterly helpless. But thinking about myself at the wheel I recognized the great unity between the clay and the potter. Rather than it being an attitude of the dominant potter and a lousy piece of clay (which so often it seems when we are that marred piece of clay!!), it becomes an image of a Father and the clay. In this image is the sense that the power that's molding us isn't chance or a string of circumstances, but a loving presence directing our formation. It is an image of someone who's wise, understanding, kind, loving, and extending a complete trust to us. It is an image of a potter, who takes into account the pliability of the clay (our choices) and will continue with complete dedication to give birth to the beauty of His work.
Observing the skilled potters at work it is evident that, unlike us, they have the capability of detecting even the slightest unevenness. And the beauty of it is that when the master potter detects it, the potter continues faithfully the work until the clay is perfected. Extending trust and accepting the direction to work on what we may be completely blind about- we see that Christ’s words really reveal: “You are to be like clay. For I am the Potter, and I am going to make something beautiful out of all that you are.”
I think this was what really moved me to tears the other day. It wasn’t that I saw my pathetic state as a lumpy piece of clay, but rather that I was able to recognize an unconditional readiness by the hands of the potter to begin forming me into something beautiful. It is something truly humbling to know that every day we have the opportunity to submit ourselves to the potter’s mercy and say the words: “Lord, l am just clay, but I am surrendering myself into Your hands.”
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