I think something may have been lost in modern, western pottery.
I remember pottery classes from when I was younger with endless supplies of clay. Bags stood at the end of each table full of perfectly mixed clay for us to mould into treasures of our liking. I've never been good at pottery. I wish I was because there's something beautiful about taking a lump of dirt and, with skilled hands, turning it effortlessly into something useful or beautiful. But I think something has been lost in the modern, western pottery process.
When we were in Morocco, we happened upon a pottery studio and entered the gates as Muhammed was beginning a demonstration of the pottery process his family has used for many many years. He didn't begin with bags of pre-mixed clay, though that would have been easier and certainly saved energy on these hot days. On the contrary, he took a pickaxe and began to hit the ground where he stood revealing red dirt beneath. Back-breaking work day after day.
He then took a sieve and filled it with dirt which he brought over to a tarp to shake the fine dirt free. He separated the fine clay ready to be moulded from the rocks and impurities that still required refining. Like a chef who sieves flour into a pile and then creates a crater in the middle for the eggs to make pasta, so did Muhammed add water to the middle and then gently, expertly mix in the dirt little by little until it formed a lump.
As Christians we are so used to hearing that God is the potter and we are the clay (Isaiah 64:8). That we've been crafted by his expert hand and that, depending on how you were taught, we are either something temporary and fragile or something beautiful and special. But what we don't give much thought to is the process before the potter forms the vessel. There is planning and preparation and ensuring that the pre-formed clay is of a quality that will work with no lumps, no rocks, just the right amount of water. Your very essence was planned and intentional.
Potters do not accidentally create masterpieces. You, your being, a masterpiece, was not accidentally created. You were formed to be who you are by a God who loves you. Some choose to think my existence was random chance; I choose to believe my existence is intentional. I choose to live my life in the light of a greater reality that at one point I was a lump of clay held in God's hand and then formed for a time such as this. I choose to live my life with the expectation that I am each day being gently moulded and shaped until the day when that process is complete and, like pottery passing through the furnace, I am a finished product.
I think sometimes we can think of ourselves as the potter's clay and our minds jump to the finished product. That God formed me how I am and now He's doing the finishing touches of decorating and painting. But, please God, don't let this be my final state! I pray I am refined and refined until the day I die, moulded little by little into a beautifully perfected vessel.
Human potters may look at something they've created and regret the choices they made and decide to scrap the whole project. God never does. God never looks at a piece He's created and thinks it's ugly or past saving. God looks at every piece, and being a master potter, knows how to pinch here, pull there, smooth this, strengthen that to redeem even the pieces that seem the most broken. All it takes is for you to remain pliable, teachable, and willing to be shaped into the finished product that only God knows as the master potter.
