Have You Seen The Potter Lately?

I was down at the potter's house yesterday. Have you been recently? I haven't see you there. In fact, I haven't see many people there at all recently. Nobody much comes to the potter's house these days. It's certainly not how it used to be when the potter's house was a gathering point for the community. Well, you know how people would come just to watch the potter work with the clay. We would just stand there and marvel at the ways he could shape it and fashion it and mold it. The potter had complete control of the clay. He can do anything with it. We'd go just to watch an artist at work, to see what he would do next, to applaud the final products. Those were good days, weren't they? Gathering at the potter's house, watching his craft, enjoying being together. The potter's house was the place to see people. To see and be seen. It's a shame that nobody goes there much anymore. The potter's still there. Still working with the clay. It's all pretty much the same. Except there just aren't many people around. It's too bad. I blame it on that Jeremiah character. Ever since he started coming around, people started staying away from the potter's house. He calls himself a prophet. I call him a pain in the neck. He says that God has appointed him as a spokesperson, that God picked him to be a prophet before he was even born (1:5). Yeah, right. What makes Jeremiah so special? Why would God choose him? What makes Jeremiah qualified? If God were really in the business of choosing people for certain tasks (which I myself am not really sure about), I think God would choose someone a little older than Jeremiah to be a spokesperson, someone perhaps a little more polished, a little more eloquent. This kid Jeremiah is still rough around the edges and wet behind the years, if you ask me. But he is convinced that God's word has been given to him. He takes this messenger of God stuff very seriously. But it's hard for me to take. It's not just his personality, which is so brash. It's also his message, which is so harsh. We prefer our prophets to say something hopeful and reassuring (14:13). That's the only reason to have prophets around, if you ask me, to tell us everything is going to be all right. If you don't have anything nice to say, just keep quiet. That's good advice for everyone, I think, including prophets. But with this Jeremiah it's just doom and gloom and trouble and destruction and death. I'm just tired of it. How about you? He thinks he is so righteous, going around announcing the bad things God is going to do to us. Did you hear what he did last month? He bought this new linen loincloth. He wore it around for a few days, and then he went down to the river and hid that cloth among the rocks. Bizarre, right? Take a new piece of linen, a beautiful loincloth like that, and bury it in the mud? Well, several days later, Jeremiah went back to dig it up. Of course, it was ruined, good for nothing. Then he goes around telling people that he only did what God told him to do, that it was all God's idea, buying the cloth and then burying the cloth and then digging it up. Jeremiah says that God was just making a point, that we are like that loincloth: we were once a new people who clung closely to God, but now we have gone astray and are no longer good for anything (13:1-11). It's the same thing, over and over again. Jeremiah is just so sure that God is out to get us. I think we should get Jeremiah. A lot of other people think that, too, especially after what he said at the temple the other day (7:1-15). Did you hear about that? I guess you could call it a sermon. I call it rubbish. He had the audacity to stand in the house of the Lord, the temple built by Solomon, the center of our worship for more than 300 years and call on us to change our ways. He told us we couldn't trust in the temple anymore. The temple alone was not enough to save us, he said. People just shook their heads. But Jeremiah kept right on preaching, saying God found our worship to be heartless, that we were just going through the motions, that we could not count on our sacrifices and burnt offerings to satisfy God. He just wouldn't shut up, going on and on about how we were stealing and murdering and committing adultery and swearing and lying and worshiping other gods. It's a wonder people didn't grab Jeremiah right there. To hear him tell it, we are breaking commandments left and right around here. I'm not sure that things are that bad. Well, there may be a bit more violence than there has been in awhile, but it's mostly among the poor. There have been some deceptive practices among the moneychangers and those who operate the scales for buying wheat, but that's been going on for as long as I can remember and it doesn't really seem to hurt anybody. I wouldn't call it stealing or lying because as long as you know the right people everything works out okay. As for the adultery, sure it happens. I certainly don't endorse it, but I'm not sure why it should be such a big concern to God. What does being faithful to your spouse really have to do with religion?

Then there's that bit about worshiping other gods. That's a big one for Jeremiah. He claims it's a big one for God, too. In fact, he claims that our exclusive loyalty to God matters more than anything (e.g., 2:6-8, 7:23, 11:9-13, 16:10-13). I think its just unrealistic. I mean sure we're grateful that God brought us out of Egypt and led us into this land. But that was 600 years ago. We have to make a living here now, and it's just good business to give some time and worship to those fertility gods like Baal who help the rains to come and the crops to grow. If we really pulled back from those commitments and wholly gave ourselves to God, how do we know God would really take care of us? It seems to me it's a better idea to keep all the gods happy, not just one. I don't care what Jeremiah says. And I wish he'd stop saying it. Is God really going to punish us just because we're trying to live our own lives, to do things our own way, to do what we can see is best for us? God did bring us out of slavery, and God did bring us into this land, and so obviously God cares quite a lot for us. And we give God our worship, too. We do get to the temple; we do perform the sacrifices and burnt offerings; we fulfill our religious duties, checking off what is required. We may not be completely loyal to God. We may not truly love God with all our hearts and soul and strength as we say we do in worship (Deuteronomy 6:5); but, on the whole, I would actually think God would be pretty happy with us. We may not be perfect, but we're not all bad. So I wish Jeremiah would shut up. And I wish he'd stay away from the potter's house. You should see him down there. He is telling anyone who will listen that God is just like the potter, that God is in control of us just like the potter is in control of the clay. No wonder people don't go down to the potter's house anymore. No longer can we just watch the potter work and have a good time. Now we're also preached at. Still, I keep going back down there. I just can't stay away. I guess I'm just fascinated by what the potter does with the clay, the infinite variations, the beauty he can create. Maybe Jeremiah has something in likening the potter to God. I don't know. I'd hate to admit he was right about anything. I do know I like to watch the potter work. Maybe the time will come soon when Jeremiah won't be hanging around the potter's house, and I can enjoy his work in peace. Yesterday when I was there it was just me and Jeremiah. For a change he was quiet, and we watched the potter work in silence. I watched the intensity of the potter as he stood at his wheel. His forehead was wrinkled in concentration, and his eyes beamed bright with love for what he was crafting. He has such a gentle face and such soft hands. After awhile he finished with the vessel he had been shaping. A frown came across his face as he realized that it was flawed, spoiled, no good. It was just a momentary frown, a trace of disappointment at seeing the work of his hands turn out bad. Just as quickly he folded the clay into a lump again and started anew, making another vessel. The clay never left his hands. He just set about making it better. He just started fashioning again, with those loving eyes, that gentle face, and those soft hands. I knew the silence wouldn't last for long. It's never quiet for long when Jeremiah is around. "That's what God is like," he whispered into my ear. "God is like the potter. If we are flawed and spoiled and no good, God will start over with us, fashioning us anew, reworking us. We are in God's hands just like the clay. But we are a vessel that is disappointing to the one who has made us. We have forgotten that we are clay and God is the potter. We have forgotten that only God can give shape to our lives. We can't do that for ourselves. Only the potter can. We are just the clay." With that Jeremiah walked away. I couldn't believe that. He didn't say very much, and he didn't say it very loud. In my experience, that's unusual for Jeremiah. As he left me, I returned my attention to the potter. It was now just the two of us. That reworked vessel was slowly taking shape in his hands. I was mesmerized by the wonderful way he crafted the vessel. Then it was done. He held it in his hands and stared at it. Then again I saw that look of disappointment. This time the frown lingered on his face. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the vessel that still was not right. His expression seemed one of frustration, exasperation. Then quickly he folded it in his hands and balled it up. "No," he cried. "No, that is not it. No." As he yelled, he threw that lump of clay against the wall. I was frightened by this outburst. I had never seen the potter upset. Never. I was somewhat embarrassed to still be there watching this happen. So I turned away quickly to leave. After several steps, I turned back for one more glance at the potter's house. I saw the potter on his knees. He had picked up the lump of clay from the floor. It was again in

his hands. I saw the tears in his eyes, and I saw his shoulders shaking as he sobbed. Then I saw Jeremiah. He had come back to the potter's house. He was standing by the potter. Jeremiah was crying, too, as he placed his hand on the potter's shoulder. There was a moment when all I heard was the muffled sounds of their weeping. Then I saw the potter's fingers start working with the clay once again.