The word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: "Arise and go down to the potter's house, and there I will let you hear my words." So I went down to the potter's house, and there he was working at his wheel. And the vessel he was making of clay was spoiled in the potter's hand, and he reworked it into another vessel, as it seemed good to the potter to do. Then the word of the LORD came to me: "O house of Israel, can I not do with you as this potter has done? says the LORD. Behold, like the clay in the potter's hand, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel."
~Jeremiah 18:1-6~
While my experience with a potter's wheel is almost non-existent, I have had many opportunities to work with clay in the art of ceramics. This is thanks to my mother's artistic pursuits and knowledge, which she saw fit to hand on to all of her children.
A bit of context for why I chose to write about this: We are in the midst of our orientation in Echo. Things are going very well. In these last few days, though, I have noticed themes that keep returning for me personally. It was the case, especially on the first day here, where it seemed like the Lord would place on my mind or my heart something that I needed to think about and pray about. Soon after that moment of acknowledgment, something related to that inspiration would be brought up in the session/discussions. I'm so thankful to God for this because it is helping me to realize these areas are areas that I need growth and that I want to grow in. Some of these themes have been: vulnerability, gratitude, and formation/conversion requiring a desire to be changed.
On our third day of orientation, we had an opportunity to dive into the passage from Jeremiah in a very tactile fashion. We listened to the passage as we sat in a ceramic studio, and were encouraged to engage our senses as we explored the clay. Now, clay is a familiar medium for me, so the experience was not exactly new. But the reflections that were brought forward by many of my colleagues were very inspiring and provoked me to think about some conclusions we can draw from this passage but that I think we tend to overlook, whether that's because they make us uncomfortable or we just don't understand the potter's work and it's connection with God and His work.
God tells Jeremiah that it is God who is like the potter. The people of Israel (who represent us) are the clay. And God helps Jeremiah to understand that just as the potter sometimes collapses his work and restarts/reforms the vessel, so God can do with us.
What does that mean?
Picture the potter at work. Maybe you've seen a ceramicist work, maybe you haven't. It involves a lot of "hand work." When the potter first takes the clay, he/she has to feel the clay to determine its pliancy. Usually the clay is fairly pliable when it's taken from the larger brick/mound, but it does take some force to pull it away from the rest of the clay. As the potter works with the clay, he employs various techniques to form the clay and make it more pliable/workable. If the clay starts to become dry, stiff, or cracked, he adds water to help the clay bind to itself more. If the clay is too wet, the potter has to work some of the moisture out again.
Inevitably, the potter's hands get dirty. If it's your first time working with clay, or if you just don't like things sticking to your hands, then this can feel strange and uncomfortable. But for someone who does it every day it becomes a familiar sensation to them. To really have fun with the clay and make progress in the act of making something, you have to become okay with the mess that gets all over your hands and work with that to create something beautiful.
What struck me about this analogy is that the same that is true of the potter is true of our God. God is a potter who is not afraid to get His hands dirty with us in order to transform us into something beautiful. Think about that. I think it has become normal for us to "hide our mess" in today's culture. We don't want people to see our weaknesses or struggles because we're afraid that they'll be turned off by them and we'll be left alone. We can project this image onto God. God wants to work with our weaknesses and form us through our struggles; but sometimes we're so busy hiding it or pretending that it isn't there that we deny Him that privilege of transformation. When there is this resistance in us, it becomes more difficult for us to be formed into the people we are meant to be. Similarly, sometimes the only way to get your clay smooth and to have a good surface for working is to slap it against the table or roll it with a rolling pin. I think this is also significant. Sometimes in life, we find ourselves up against a wall with difficulties we never expected. But if we cling to the Lord in those moments and seek His will, we can find ourselves coming out of those struggles stronger and better people than we were before. This isn't just a nice idea. It's a part of our faith. Now I'm not saying that "Everything happens for a reason" should be your instant reaction to any difficulties that come your way. Sometimes it's just not possible for us to feel that way. But there's a difference between adopting an attitude of nonchalance and living a life of faith. Nonchalance says: "I guess there's some good that will come of this." Faith believes: "This is a bad situation. And what's happening to me doesn't feel good, and I didn't do anything to cause this. But I know my God is powerful enough to bring a good out of this, and I believe that He will."
We can easily see how this is amazing for us, that God is not afraid to work with us, in our good times and our bad times, to help us to become what He made us to be. He is not afraid to get His hands dirty. But it's easy to miss how significant this is for God as well. How so?
One of the ways the Catholic Church likes to describe God is "transcendent." This means that He surpasses all we know and understand to be beautiful, good, true, mighty, the list goes on. Another great mystery of the Catholic Faith (the central mystery, in fact) is that God is a Trinity, or a Communion of Persons. Now, the Trinity, as a mystery, is something that we could talk about all day because it is so profound, or something that we could have trouble speaking about because it is so deep and so beyond our imagination. But one of the best ways that I have ever heard of explaining the doctrine of the Trinity is in a children's catechism called St. Patrick's Summer by Marigold Hunt.
In
this catechism, or adventure catechism as Hunt has called it, two children and
St. Patrick are having a discussion.
Patrick says: “You and I are three persons too, aren’t we? But we each have a human nature of our own:
three persons with one human nature each, and you know that your nature is what
you are. Now tell me, is what you are the same thing as who you are” (20)?
An
example is then presented that if you were to bump into another human in the
dark you might say: “What was that?” And the answer would be: a human. But once
you knew that, you would ask further: “Who is that?” They are not the
same thing.
“The
mystery isn’t how three can be one or how one can be three at all: you can’t
even get near the mystery until you understand that much. The mystery is how it
can be that if you asked God, ‘What are You?’ the answer would be simply,
‘God,’ but if you asked, ‘Who are You?’ the answer would be threefold” (22).
I bring this up because it's important for us to realize that God does not need to make us. God is a Community of Persons, an Eternal Exchange of Love between the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. God is Love. But His Love is also fulfilled in His being. But then the mystery of why God creates us is even more beautiful. He does not have any need to create us, but He does so because His love goes beyond fulfillment. It is transcendent. God's creation of us could almost be seen as frivolous, even whimsical, because it wasn't necessary. Like the Cross, it is foolishness to some, yet it is the power of God for us who believe. It is so amazingly and transcendently beautiful!
Following from this truth, how amazing is it that, even after man rebels against God through sin and falls from grace, God still loves us; still stoops down and saves us; still works with us in our mess and helps us rise out of it? We know this because God has become man and has saved us. He did not have to do this. He could have started over. But throughout salvation history, He continues to stoop down to His people and to sanctify them. This is accomplished ultimately in Jesus Christ's life, death, and Resurrection. "Oh happy fault, which gained for us so great a Redeemer!" (from The Easter Vigil Liturgy)
I will, most likely, carry on this theme in further posts, since it is too great a mystery to speak about in just a few paragraphs (and the potter and clay analogy has already been long). Until we meet again, may the Lord bless you.
Pax et bonum,
the Itinerant Catechist
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