Jeremiah 18:1--19:15 · At the Potter’s House
If Only We Would Let God Mold Us ...
Jeremiah 18:1--19:15
Sermon
by Wallace H. Kirby
Loading...

"John’s pulling his ear again," my wife would say wearily when I came home for lunch. "I guess I’d better take him back to Dr. Byrd’s this afternoon before things get worse."

"That probably means another round of penicillin shots for John and some more sleepless nights for us," was my usual response.

That dialogue was repeated over and over in our household. It seemed as though we would never get our three-year-old son’s ear infections cleared up. We were positive his body was working up an immunity to antibiotics, because each bout with his ears meant at least three and sometimes five injections. Dr. Byrd, our family physician, must have felt the same way, for he decided John needed to be seen by a specialist.

John was excited about a trip to the city, but not about another doctor probing around in his tender ears.

"Your son needs to have tubes put in both ears so that the fluid building up behind the drum can drain. Unless this is done, he will continue to have ear infections and his hearing might be impaired."

Dr. Pope explained the surgical procedure and the necessity of a two-day stay at the hospital.

"I wish I could guarantee," he continued, "that this one time would do it. There is always the possibility of having to repeat the procedure when John is older."

The necessary arrangements were made for John to be admitted to the hospital the next week, and we went home with the tremendous task of explaining to a three-year-old child why his ears must hurt more right now so that they could get well and stop hurting altogether.

Adults who understand the necessity and value of surgery still dread it when they have to face it. How much more frightening it must be to a child who does not understand why the pain is necessary to save his life, or in this case, his hearing. He fears, in fact, that the "bad doctor" only wants to hurt him, and he cannot comprehend why his parents have betrayed him by handing him over to suffering.

How hard it was for us to explain to John that we were going to see that he went through his operation because we loved him. We tried to help him realize that the surgery he was to undergo would stop his earaches and penicillin shots. Our efforts, plus a child’s book about going to the hospital, and loving attention from his older brother and sister prepared John for his ordeal.

That was nineteen years ago. John never again had to undergo the procedure, and now our twenty-two-year-old college senior has no earaches, but rather a keen sense of hearing.

Jeremiah, out of an everyday experience, tried to explain to his people how Yahweh would use their suffering to mold them, to help them become the whole persons their creator envisioned. The prophet felt led to go to the potter’s house. There he watched the craftsman working at his wheel, shaping and reshaping lumps of clay, until they turned into objects of beauty. Jeremiah must have wondered why the artist would often start over again with a pot or jar that looked perfect to the observer. We can imagine that the sensitivity of the potter’s eye and fingers awed the prophet, and that he was deeply impressed by the potter’s control over the clay as he molded and remolded it over and over again. As Jeremiah watched, he recognized the parallel between the potter and God, the clay and the people of Judah.

"Don’t I have the right to do with you people of Israel what the potter did with the clay?" Jeremiah heard God say. (18:1, TEV)

The story of the potter was written about 600 B.C. when Judah had a weak king, Jehoiachin, and had fallen under foreign domination. Within a few years the monarchy, which had begun four hundred years earlier with Saul and David, would cease to exist. The Babylonian captivity had begun. It was the worst tragedy the Israelites had ever known.

Jeremiah did not stop preaching that Judah would be destroyed, but from that day on there began to be a new hope in his message. Yahweh had shown him that destruction was not the final word. Judah was the clay and God was the Potter, a potter of infinite resourcefulness. The clay, though it be marred, could be salvaged. The wheel kept on turning and the Potter kept shaping and reshaping the clay over and over again. Judah was still in God’s hands. Jeremiah began to look for and to build for a future of hope.

The picture God presents through Jeremiah is brief and simple, and extraordinarily rich. The parable still speaks to us today. Each of us is clay in the Potter’s hands, just as surely as Judah was. God designs the vessel - the person each of us is created to become - in his mind. It does not even know what is to be made of it. A vase? A pitcher? A candlestick? Only the Potter knows!

Once we have learned to accept the fact that God is the Potter and we willingly yield ourselves to him, as the clay gives itself to the potter, what happens to us? It would be nice to be able to say that we have reached our goal and are ready to be fully possessed by God. The truth is that we are just now ready to begin to let God shape and mold us.

That’s when our prayer life deepens, and we become more and more aware that clay can do virtually nothing to transform itself into an object of beauty. It can be soft, pliable, sensitive to the potter’s touch, and allow God to shape and reshape it, even though that process can be as painful as John’s surgery. We are often afraid that God’s will may break us, that what he asks is too hard for us to bear. Judah felt that way when Jeremiah advised her leaders that Yahweh would allow the Babylonian captivity, and that the people should submit to the foreigners.

The clay, however, is never broken by anything the potter may do, unless it becomes hard and rigid, as John’s hearing was in no danger, unless we refused to let him have tubes put in his ears. As long as it is malleable, the clay will never break, but once it begins to resist the potter’s touch, to push against his shaping, it will be in danger. That is what happened to Judah and that is why God sent Jeremiah to tell her that she needed to be broken in order to be refashioned.

So it is with us. We are misshapen at times by our own willfulness and stubbornness. By our sinfulness we distort the image of God in us and become hardened to his will. As long as we are content with our shape, the attempts of the Potter to refashion and transform us will threaten and frighten us. As we begin to realize what we really are and what we might be, we will no longer dread the necessary remolding, even though it may be painful. We will find ourselves willing to be broken and remolded, because we long with all our hearts to become like the Lord of love.

Irenaeus, one of the early church fathers, wrote about our being the work of God. He advises: "Keep thy heart soft and pliable for Him; retain the form in which the Artist fashioned thee, having moisture in thyself, lest, becoming hard, thou shouldest lose the marks of His fingers."

The potter and clay image has caught the imagination of many through the years. One was Adelaide A. Pollard who wrote the beloved hymn, "Have Thine Own Way, Lord." She pictured the ideal response to God as a willingness to be molded according to the divine design.

Have thine own way, Lord!
Have thine own way!
Thou art the potter;
I am the clay.

Mold me and make me
After thy will,
While I am waiting
Yielded and still.

If only we would let God mold us ...

CSS Publishing Company, Inc., If Only..., by Wallace H. Kirby