Living Clay

Living Clay
Jeremiah 14: 1-11
September 5, 2010

In the fall of 2005,
I was in a transition—transitioning my ordination status from PCUSA to UCC, and working half-time at a new church start that paid me for ¼ time. I didn’t know where life would lead, but I really loved what I was doing with the congregation. So, I had to find another source of income.

So, I went back to school!

The first question I asked myself was what could I do that would be flexible, enjoyable, and I could be good at?

I thought to myself, “I enjoy being with people, and counseling. That would be a very practical professional degree.”
However, I kept thinking,
“hmmm, but I also love being in a pottery studio…”

Although I had only dabbled in working with clay, the times that I did, I became lost and content in it.

So, I enrolled in a degree program in to become a professional potter, learning the trade of production pottery. (Which I might add was the least practical of the two choices—for a myriad of reasons).

It wasn’t easy.
The first semester was challenging—and the sixty page syllabus was daunting. I was to learn all the properties of clay, the physics and calculations of glaze recipes, plus make 60 cylinders, 52 mugs with pulled handles, in matching sets of 4, 20 lidded forms (as in casseroles), o thirty bowls—with different pounds of clay from 1-5, where some would nest, as in mixing bowls, and twenty plates….all on a potter’s wheel.

Mind you, at that point, I wasn’t even very good at centering, which is taking the ball of clay, and holding it on the wheel, with pressure that would show the lump completely balanced in its distribution. If the beginning lump is not balanced, it is very difficult to open and begin pulling up walls that are even and strong. Suffice it to say, I had to try many times over to produce my quota of pots. As overwhelming as this was, it was also entrancing and exhilarating.

As the wheel spun and I churned out pots, I learned about the nature of clay.
Clay is a living substance. It isn’t a passive lump of wet dirt. Throwing involves respect, it involves a certain posture on the part of the potter, to be balanced within and sitting in the correct balanced position, as well as getting used to the nature of each clay body, whether it is high fire stoneware (lots of functional pottery is made from this, as it lasts long and is strong), low fire terra cotta (think garden pots and tiles) and the holy grail of Porcelain. Porcelain, although the strongest of clay (there is a reason your toilet is made from porcelain), can be worked almost paper thin—but it is difficult to manage. A completely skilled potter may feel like a beginner when working with porcelain.

Making pottery, whether functional or decorative, is a co-creative process between the potter and the clay. Even when you get to know the clay body inside and out, when you can throw a bowl or plate in your sleep, in each instance of creation, something new emerges; a certain nuance comes up, around the shape, the clay, and even yourself. There is nothing boring in throwing a million mugs, either. Each time a potter sits down with a lump of clay, she never really knows how it will unfold into being exactly, in spite of her intention.

So, this metaphor of God being a potter in Jeremiah makes complete sense to me.
You see, the passage is all about change, and choice, and being alive.
Listen to verse 6 again.

6Can I not do with you, O house of Israel, just as this potter has done? says the LORD. Just like the clay in the potter’s hand, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel.

This verse is gorgeous, isn’t it? God is trying to help Israel, God’s chosen people, to understand that they are not finished. They are like clay in the hand of the potter, yet to be realized into being, yet to be fully created with the intentions that God has for them. They are yet to become. However, there is a hint, in the following verses, that the clay is not passive in the hands of the potter, and neither is Israel passive in the hands of God.

7At one moment I may declare concerning a nation or a kingdom, that I will pluck up and break down and destroy it, 8but if that nation, concerning which I have spoken, turns from its evil, I will change my mind about the disaster that I intended to bring on it. 9And at another moment I may declare concerning a nation or a kingdom that I will build and plant it, 10but if it does evil in my sight, not listening to my voice, then I will change my mind about the good that I had intended to do to it.

On first take, we might think these words frame God as a capricious deity. They describe a Divine one that will destroy if a people do not listen to God. I don’t think this is the message. In fact, I think the prophecy is, as most prophecy is, about the nature of the hearers of the prophecy, rather than only about the divine nature of God. The message here is that God’s intentions for a people can change according to how a people will respond to the intentions of God.

Will Israel respond to the purpose that God intends for them—to truly be the chosen people of God, that will trust God, and keep the covenant? Will Israel choose, rather, to ignore that intention, and turn from God, and to other gods or cultures surrounding them?

Isn’t it beautiful to think that God is free to respond to human decision, and has the capability of changing the divine mind, instead of making a decree and holding it so. Human decisions matter to God. There is a relationship here, God is saying. You are clay, you are living clay, and you can respond to my shaping, or not. I can choose to throw you away—but I won’t. I will simply reshape you, as the potter does in the potter’s house. Note—the potter in this passage doesn’t discard the clay, never to be used again. No. The potter responds to the clay, is ever present.
In other words, God responds to us. God’s good intention for us is life, and wholeness. If we choose something other, God will respond—perhaps re-shaping us into different beings.

This passage has so much to say to us, today, as a smaller congregation in the 21st century—as well as for each of us personally.

As a congregation faced with budget issues, growth issues, we might get scared a little bit. The future might seem a little uncertain as we move into the processes of ensuring the vitality of Eliot in the future. What we give, plus revenue from building rentals and the endowment, do not cover our costs. This is a reality. However, this is another reality—God has not stopped calling us to be the good news in this neighborhood. We are called to touch a need in the community, and not simply be Eliot, for ourselves, as we always have been. Because we aren’t, we are different, and the world in which we are a church is different—even from 20 years ago.

I heard an interesting analogy this week—the difference being a bib church or an apron church. A bib church says “feed me”. An apron church is one that serves others. Which do we want to be?

Our decision matters to God. This is why it is important for us to commit to the difficult and arduous task of truly thinking through what Eliot’s direction, as God’s community, is to go. Did you know that 88% of congregations are bib congregations?

But it is hard—it is hard to be an apron church. We are Christians in a post-Christian culture. Most people don’t go to church. We live in a time where specificity about belief in God is not important—what people are looking for are to be fed, to find hope, to find a trusting community, and to make a difference in the world—in spite of being busier than ever. More so, many people are suspect of Christianity, if they know anything about it. And sometimes, Christians have an insider language that is difficult for a newcomer to interpret—especially when that newcomer really has never participated in a congregation before.

An apron church is ready for change, for growth, for commitment to the gospel and need in the community in which it lives, and beyond. An apron church calls forth relationships that are real and deep and vulnerable. An apron church has a purpose and a love, especially for those who have been disenfranchised and forgotten.

How we move into ensuring that our beloved community is vital in the future will require hard work, and discernment. Discernment requires listening to our hearts, and to the good news of the gospel. The decisions we make will matter to God. God’s intention for us is life--to fully be who we are called to be—a church that serves widely—nurturing ourselves and serving the world. We are indeed living clay. Are we willing to be re-shaped by God to live into God’s intentions? Because whatever our future is, it will require reshaping. This we know is true.

Similarly, this is true for each of us, in our relationships to the Divine. We may not believe as our parents did, or as we ourselves did long ago. We might have questions, doubts, even fears. We change. We grow. We take two steps forward, and one step back.

But God’s intent is for each of us to be a vessel, balanced and open to being the Light of the world. It’s scary—because our decision to live into God’s intentions for us makes us vulnerable. It requires giving over, being willing to be shaped into what God sees us…with all of who we are. Like clay, we are alive. We are in relationship with the potter….as the potter shapes us, we can speak to the potter, to become a beautiful, functional, gorgeous vessel of the divine.

What about it?
Shall we be living clay together?

Amen.