We are ordinary, fragile, and flawed. We’re broken jars, cracked pots, chipped bowls, fractured pitchers.
Some of us are half-baked.
But ordinary clay pottery can be extraordinary.
I don’t mean extraordinary in functionality, versatility, or capacity. I’m not referring to exceptional aesthetic appeal in terms of shape, color, or glazing.
A common pot can be transformed by what it contains. An earthen vessel can be filled with heavenly treasure–treasure that can be shared with other pieces of earthenware.
I remember one such earthen vessel from my seminary days. There I was–this half-baked, cracked pot—looking with wonder at a broken clay pitcher who continually poured out divine treasure. I saw in my instructor a heart and a life that was so compelling to me. His life wasn’t impressive; it was attractive. I wanted to be like him. I wanted a heart like his. I wanted the clay jar of my life to be filled with what filled his.
I could see clearly that something—Someone–had been poured into that human container. The Spirit of Jesus was the divine treasure that my soul desired. Christ is who I saw when I looked at my fellow clay vessel.
Since those days, I’ve bumped into other bowls and pots and jars with heavenly contents. I have been privileged to enjoy community with other pieces of pottery who carry and share that same special treasure.
This uncommon privilege is ours because the One who brought heaven to earth in a flawless earthen vessel now offers to pour Himself into broken containers like you and me.
And for ordinary pottery like us, the honor is extraordinary.