Ash Wednesday: Vessels of Clay Pots
Table Talk
Setting the Table
You are welcome here. Take a moment to take in the space that is around you. Listen carefully to the sounds. Allow your body to be where it is, whether you are sitting or standing or enjoying a walk. Take a couple of deep breaths and remember that you are loved.
Consider how a piece of pottery is made unique by its slight imperfections.
Ring the bells that still can ring.
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack, a crack in everything.
That’s how the light gets in.
- Leonard Cohen
Jeremiah 18:5-6
Then the word of the Lord came to me. He said, “Can I not do with you, Israel, as this potter does?” declares the Lord. “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand.”
2 Corinthians 4:7-9
But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.
Food for Thought
One early summer day a number of years ago, my friend’s eight-year-old son was racing his bike with a group of his friends. In the spirit of Evel Knievel, he took his mark, set, and sped for the finish line—the stop sign at the end of the street. Only he didn’t stop. With a last burst of speed, he suddenly surged forward, eclipsing the cyclist next to him, but crashing into a blur of blue Chevy.
The bike went down and my friend’s son shot up, landing 55 feet from the place of impact. After x-raying every inch of his body, the doctor was amazed to find only one broken bone.
My friend didn’t think her son had seen the truck coming down the street—but she was wrong. Her son later confessed that he had in fact seen it, but thought he could beat it.
I am often struck, as I watch my own children play, by the false sense of immortality that carries us through our childhood. Children move through the world with an emboldened sense of confidence, with reckless abandon—jumping from higher steps than they should, testing the limits of their ability, believing all the time that they are unstoppable, untouchable, unbreakable.
But we are not made to be immortal or unbreakable. Whatever else we believe about ourselves, however hard we might try to convince ourselves or the world around us otherwise, we are both limited and fragile.
We are made from dust.
We are the clay pots in which God has entrusted God’s treasure. Vulnerable human vessels shaped from the dirt of the ground and the dust of the stars to carry within us the breath and light of our creator.
And yet we spend an incredible amount of energy trying to be anything other than this, anything other than fragile. Somewhere along our human journeys we’ve absorbed the message that we are not enough just as we are: clay pots; fragile vessels; vulnerable, human beings.
Vulnerability is the willingness to see our lives and truly be seen in our lives. It is absolutely terrifying, but allowing oneself to be seen and known—and allowing oneself to fully see and know another—is the heart of meaningful human experience.
It is in our shared brokenness that we better understand our connection to and our dependence upon one another, and it is in our limitations that the intimacy, the love, the grace, and the redemption of an ever-loving God is made fully known.
When we allow our broken and healed places—our imperfections and our mistakes—to be known, it honors the fullness of our stories. It holds us accountable to our history. It recognizes the pain of our past. It holds sacred the arduous human journey of being and becoming—at every stage of our lives. It is the means by which we are able to receive and experience grace. Like a potter with clay in her hands, God knows us intimately and is continually holding, reshaping, and mending the cracks within our lives.
We have to stop telling ourselves the story that we aren’t good enough.
We are worthy of being seen and known. Not in part, but in full. To see our full story—to see the full story of those around us—and to know that we are, as we are, fully and completely an integral part of the wonderful story of God. Our lives are the treasures of God held in the fragile vessels of clay pots that are continually reshaped and mended, held in the loving hands of our creator.
Try out a pottery class! Notice how the process of making your work of art helps you to more closely observe its unique qualities, imperfections or otherwise. There will never be another piece of pottery exactly like the one you are making. You can also try this with Play-Doh.
Practice vulnerability with yourself and your community by getting to know your neighbors. Maybe begin with inviting someone you don’t know well to share a cup of coffee together.
For a printable version of today's reflection, download our For Love's Sake eBook! For the kid's version, check out our For Love's Sake Kids eBook!
Blessing
Loving God,
Like a potter with clay, you know us intimately. The imprint of your hands is upon us—and you are never finished crafting your beloved creation. In our living, we are shaped and reshaped through the work and love of the potter.
Amen.
A little Table Talk for your table...
Write down ways that you have felt “not good enough.” What has helped you find peace in those moments?
List a few ways that you can be reminded of your worth, and that you can remind others of their own.
How can you see God continually working in the cracks of your life to bring about a more beautiful creation?
Try taking it to the Kids Table...
Grab some molding clay or Play-Doh and let your kiddos create. Try to allow them the freedom to create without expectation.
Talk with them about what they have created. Point out some of the unique characteristics that make their work of art beautiful just the way it is.
Prompt your child to make a list of all of the things that make them unique. Talk about how each of those things is what makes them who they are.
Meet our Welcoming Voice!
The Welcome Table Team - We are “The Bunce Girls!” Originally from Lexington, North Carolina, we were raised surrounded by music, justice, and faith. We spent most of our Sunday afternoons gathered around an open table with family and friends where the food was plentiful, stories and laughter connected our hearts, and where the presence of each individual was held sacred. It’s those moments that have inspired The Welcome Table.
To hear more from TWT throughout the week, follow along on our Instagram!
Here are Five Things to Remember When Setting Your Own Welcome Table!