Who is Shaping Your
Life?
Isaiah 64:1-8
This is the
time of the year when you think about putting up a Christmas tree. Maybe yours is already up. When you do it is always the same. You set up
the tree, string the lights and then pull out the old box of ornaments. Now
there are two schools of thought with the ornaments. Some like to have them color coordinated and
following a theme. Others have a more
eclectic approach. The decorations are
almost like a history listen reminding you of the time you bought the
dream-catcher on vacation in Arizona, or the one with your child’s name that
says, “Baby’s First Christmas”. My
favorites of course are the ones my children made out of crayons and glitter
and play dough. They may not be fancy, but shaped by their little hands they
are filled with love and that makes all the difference.
Our
scripture today takes us to the potters house where God shapes with love our
lives, our hopes and our dreams.
“Spirit of
the living God fall afresh on me. Spirit
of the living God fall afresh on me. Melt me; mold me; fill me; use me. Spirit
of the Living God fall afresh on me.” Amen
There is
hardly a craft more visual and more tactile than that of making pottery. The potter’s hands are immersed in the
clay. They feel their way through the
mud until an elegant ceramic vase emerges.
The slightest touch this way or that can shape the form intended or send
it spinning wildly off the wheel. Watch a potter at work and you will see
complete focus and attention on the vessel being created.
It occurred
to Isaiah as he watched this artisan work that this was simple parable, a
picture of God at work. He believed that
God’s hands continue to shape the soul and spirit of those who yield themselves
to his touch. He believed that God is
present and active in the historical events we read about in the
newspapers. He believed that God is
still there and that God does still care.
He also knew that the Lord is not the only one who wishes to shape and
influence us.
Early on we
don’t have much choice. We come into the
world and into the arms of our parents who will tell us what is what. They will teach us as best they are able how
to tie our shoes, ride a bike, and drive a car.
Their beliefs and values and their understanding about what is right and
what is wrong will become our default position.
Our attitudes and actions will be shaped by and influenced by Mom and
Dad. They are forever be imprinted on our souls.
But, they
are not the only ones whose hands bend the clay, because one day Mom and Dad
will drop us off at the bus stop and from there we’ll be taken to a classroom.
For the next dozen years or so teachers of various shapes and sizes will be
given an opportunity to teach us reading, writing, and arithmetic and how to
understand our history and how we might look to the future.
Between
classes, and during recess, and after school our friends will have their say
about what kind of clothes we wear, what kind of music we listen to, and what
they think is right and wrong, good or bad.
Even when
they are not around a thousand voices a day call out to us from the radio or
through the television screen or in the advertisements in the magazine we read
while we’re waiting to get a hair cut.
They also have an opinion on what we should buy and how we should live. They also want to put their hands into the
clay.
There are
no shortage of voices that beckon us this way and that, and there are plenty of
people who want nothing more than to shape your understanding of what really
matters and what really counts. On
Sunday mornings the preacher is just another one of those voices. Hopefully though, he or she brings a good
word from God, the same God who said to the prophet Jeremiah, “Before I formed
you in the womb, I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you.”[1]
Maybe the
one who knows you best is the one you should listen to as you try to make your
way through a confusing a complicated world.
Maybe the one who through this same prophet said, “I know the plans I
have for you, plans for your welfare and not evil, plans to give you a future
and a hope” is the one you allow to shape and form your life.[2] Maybe we give a little less credence to the
countless voices that surround us and pay a little more attention to God’s
still small voice that whispers to us in those rare quiet moments when we are
alone with ourselves and with God.
As Isaiah
watched the potter work he noticed that sometimes the clay did not turn out as
the potter hoped. It was almost as if
the mud had a mind of its own. Though
the skilled craftsman intended to create a perfect piece, sometimes he ended
with a cracked pot because of some unseen flaw that revealed itself in the
weakness of the clay.
This is
where this teaching really hits close to home, because if there is one Biblical
truth that is acknowledged by everyone, believer or not, it is that none of us
are perfect. We all know a crack pot or
two, someone whose imperfections drive us crazy. Sometimes we’ll overhear someone saying the
same thing about us. We all agree with
those biblical passages, “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of
God” and there is none who is righteous, no not one.”[3] No one I know would ever say with a straight
face, I don’t know about you, but I’m perfect – never made a mistake in my life
and never intend to.” You may know
someone who thinks they are perfect, but they’d never say it out loud, and you
wouldn’t believe them anyway.
Since we
are all more or less in the same boat the only question that really matters is
what are we going to do about it?
Some
surrender to the flaws. They make
friends with their sin. When they say
things they shouldn’t say, or do things they shouldn’t do and someone complains
they just slough it off with an easy, “Well, nobody’s perfect.” That becomes
their excuse. If they once felt a twinge of conscience, if they once felt
guilty they don’t any more. They’ve
learned to justify and rationalize almost anything.
The prophet
Jeremiah refers to these folks in this way. They say, “We will follow our own plans and
act according to the stubbornness of our evil hearts.” The Bible describes this in another way.
Sometimes hearts become so hardened even the hand of God cannot soften. Sometimes
people become so stubborn in their sin no amount of coaxing or persuasion or
warning will open their eyes. As a consequence the prophet says in the next
chapter, “As one breaks a potter’s vessel, it can never be mended.”[4]
After the
clay has been through the fire, the flaws will be forever frozen. They cannot be re-shaped. It can have no use. It will be tossed aside.
Eventually
our attitudes and actions freeze in place the choices we make in this life, and
the path we’ve followed. We end exactly
where we’ve chosen to be by the decisions we make every day. We often see this portrayed in cartoons as
fire and brimstone, but in the image here is more like the poignant pile of
pottery shards piled behind the potter’s shed, broken and beyond redemption.
Before the
fire though there is always hope. Even
if we’ve resisted the hand of the Lord god does not give up. The Bible says, “the
potter just re-worked it into another vessel as seemed good to him.”[5]
Here is
where we need to dig deeper into this parable. If God is the potter and we are
the clay, do we have any say about how we will be shaped and formed? Are we just clay or are we mud with a mind of
our own?
In one
sense we are like clay shaped by forces beyond ourselves. Talk to any counselor or psychologist in a
therapy session and they’ll go back through your life to help you understand
those people, events, and experiences that have impacted your life and
influenced the way you look at things.
No man is an island. We are all
impacted by others.
Some times for devotions I use this
book, “A guide to Prayer for all God’s people.”
I happened to be reading it this week when I came upon this passage
written by a woman named Paula Ripple a potter who works with clay. She said,
“Both my hands shaped this
pot. And the place where it actually
forms is the place of tension between the pressure applied from the outside and
the pressure of the hand on the inside.
That’s the way my life has been.
Sadness and death, misfortune and the love of friends and all of these
things that happened to me that I didn’t even choose have shaped the person I
am.
My life, like this pot, is the
result of what happened on the outside and what is going on inside. Life, like this pot comes to be in the places
of tension.” Often there is little we
can do about those outside forces: the sudden death of a loved one, the loss of
a job, health that is fading. These
things just happen to us. We can, with
God’s help choose how we will respond.
We can with God’s help allow his hands to shape us, his word to guide
us, and his grace to forgive us.
No one understood that more than Myra Brooks Welch,
a resident of La Verne, California. She was
called "The poet with the singing soul.”
She came from a very musical family and as a young woman became an accomplished
organist.
In 1921, she heard a speaker address a group of
students. She said she became filled with light, and wrote in 30 minutes a poem
called "Touch of the Master’s Hand!" She sent it anonymously to her
church news bulletin. She felt it was a gift from God, and didn’t need her name
on it. Its popularity spread like magic. Finally, several years later, the poem
was read at a religious international convention with the annotation,
"author unknown." A young man stood up and said, "I know the
author, and it’s time the world did too. It was written by my mother, Myra
Welch."
What the world did not see and did not know, was
that the woman who created these masterpieces: Myra was battered and scarred
from severe arthritis and confined to a wheel chair. She could no longer
play the organ so she took to writing.
She took wrote with a pencil in badly disabled
hands. Using the eraser end, she would slowly type the words, the joy of them
outweighing the pain of her efforts. This is what she wrote:
T’was
battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But held it up with a smile.
"What
am I bidden, good folks," he cried,
"Who’ll start the bidding for me?"
"A dollar, a dollar," then, two! Only two?
"Two dollars, and who’ll make it three?
"Three
dollars, once; three dollars, twice;
Going for three . . . "But no,
From the room, far back, a grey haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow;
Then,
wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the loose strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet
As a caroling angel sings.
The
music ceased, and the auctioneer,
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said: "What am I bid for the old violin?"
And he held it up with the bow.
"A
thousand dollars, and who’ll make it two?
Two thousand! And who’ll make it three?
Three thousand, once; three thousand, twice;
And going and gone," said he.
The
people cheered, but some of them cried,
"We do not quite understand
What changed its worth?" Swift came the reply:
"The touch of a master’s hand."
And
many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd,
Much like the old violin.
A
"mess of potage," a glass of wine;
A game, and he travels on.
He is "going" once, and "going" twice,
He’s "going" and almost "gone."
But
the Master comes and the foolish crowd
Never can quite understand
The worth of a soul and the change that’s wrought
By the touch of the Master’s hand.[6]
Let the touch of the master’s hand
shape your life and there is no telling what music you can create, what peace
and joy and grace you an express with your words and actions and the attitude
of your heart. It’s not too late, no
matter what you’ve done and where you’ve been.
God’s tender hands can work within the tensions of your life. The Bible says, “It does not yet appear what
you shall be.”[7]
Let us pray:
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. Have thine
own way Lord, have thine own way! Hold
oe’er my being absolute sway! Fill with thy Spirit till all shall see, Christ
only, always, living in me. Amen.
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