The Potter Knows the Clay
A Reflection on Jeremiah 18:1-6 and Isaiah 64:8
By Assistant Pastor Dr. Jaden Fitzpatrick | January 5, 2025
Turn with me to Jeremiah chapter 18. It’s interesting how you sit, listen to the music, and the Lord shifts the message on you. We’ll be in Jeremiah 18 this morning and glance at one other verse, then pray and dive in. Jeremiah 18:1-6 says, "The word which came to Jeremiah from the Lord, saying, Arise, and go down to the potter’s house, and there I will cause thee to hear my words. Then I went down to the potter’s house, and, behold, he wrought a work on the wheels. And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter: so he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it. Then the word of the Lord came to me, saying, O house of Israel, cannot I do with you as this potter? saith the Lord. Behold, as the clay is in the potter’s hand, so are ye in mine hand, O house of Israel." Then, in Isaiah 64:8, "But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand." Let’s pray: Father, we thank You that we can come and hear Your words. "All My Hope Is in Jesus"—I’m so thankful, Lord, that in any way we could’ve gone, we chose the Jesus way. I’m grateful we can sing "Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me." As we open Your Word, give me the unction to function. Let us hear You, bind Satan, put a hedge of protection here, lead us home safely, and bring us back next time. In Jesus’ name, amen.
God’s Illustrations
Scripture shows God loves illustrations. I don’t know about you, but I grasp things better when they’re illustrated—when it’s right in front of me, something to remember. In the New Testament, Jesus often calls Christians sheep, rich with symbolism we won’t unpack today. But in Jeremiah and Isaiah, God likens us to clay in the potter’s hands. You’ve likely seen artwork or heard songs about this. So this morning, I’ll preach a brief message—considering the snow’s coming down and making us antsy—titled "The Potter Knows the Clay." Let’s explore three points.
1. The Condition of the Clay
First, the condition of the clay. Clay is naturally hard. Years ago, I built fences—residential and commercial—and when you dig past the soft soil, you hit this hard stuff: clay, orange or reddish. Kids play with squishy Play-Doh, but natural clay isn’t like that—it’s tough. For a potter to craft a vase, teacup, or masterpiece, the clay must be softened, made pliable. In middle school Art Club, I learned you have to knead out air bubbles. If bubbles stay in and you fire the piece in a kiln—that big, hot oven—it shatters. I recall a friend’s stunning cup—fancy designs, beautifully painted. Into the kiln it went, then pop! The teacher opened it, and it was ruined—air bubbles. A potter works the clay on the wheel, shaping it, but sometimes smashes it down to start over if it’s not right—maybe air pockets or flaws they don’t want in the final piece. Once fired, that’s it—no reshaping. My friend, we’re that clay in God’s hands. We start hard-hearted, unpliable. As He molds us into who He wants us to be, sometimes He smashes us—not out of spite, but because He doesn’t want that as our final form. Hardships aren’t always punishment; they’re God working in us, knowing we’re not done. He softens us, removes our “air bubbles”—pride, sin—to make us vessels of honor. Some of us He’s already fired into His design; others, like me, He’s still shaping—every time I mess up, He starts over.
2. The Pureness of the Potter
Second, the pureness of the potter. A potter, like God, has pure intentions, thoughts, plans, motives, and purpose. Artists don’t approach their work aiming for ugliness—“How can I make junk?” No, they envision beauty, a lovely piece. God’s not here to make junk either. I’ve worked with families and kids—on my office wall hangs a suicide note from a 13-year-old girl I met as a bus captain. She begged me to visit urgently. I went with someone, and she was ready to end her life because people convinced her she was nothing, unloved, alone. But God doesn’t make junk—He has a purpose for you! A baseball in my hand is worth $10; in Babe Ruth’s, thousands. A football in my hand, $20; in Joe Burrow’s (when healthy), playoff dreams. A golf ball with me is lost; with Tiger Woods, priceless. A rod in my hand fights coyotes around the church; in Moses’, it parts the Red Sea. A slingshot in my hand’s a toy—my wife laughed when I suggested it for our son—but in David’s, it slays giants. Five loaves and three fish in my hand feed me (unless it’s Long John Silver’s, then I’m keeping it!); in Jesus’, they feed 5,000. Nails in my hand build a birdhouse; in Jesus’, they paid your salvation. It depends whose hands you’re in! In the Potter’s pure hands, God has a plan. Living for the devil or ourselves, wondering why we’re not blessed? We’ve handed our lives to the wrong one. Sometimes I try fixing everything myself—my life, my family—thinking it’s my job. But some things we can’t fix; we need the One with the whole world in His hands. If He holds the world, He can hold us too! Every decision—marriage, work, church, family—is spiritual. “Whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31). Someone said, “Christ paid for you—is He getting His money’s worth?” Instead of praying “Lord, use me,” try “Lord, make me usable.” My kids want to help—cute, but a 30-minute project takes days when they bring a hammer instead of a screwdriver. God needs us shaped right—not a hammer when He needs a Phillips. Even if we’re not the tool now, He keeps us in His toolbox for later—not trash, just waiting to be usable.
3. The Mission of the Masterpiece
Finally, the mission of the masterpiece. Art—whether a hobby, for sale, or display—has a purpose: to honor the artist. If I paint something ugly, I’m not signing it—blame the kids! But every piece aims to reflect its creator. Museums and art shows exist to honor artists, displaying only their best. Picasso made more than what’s shown—just the works that bring him glory. Do we represent our Artist well? You can spot a Picasso by its signature, its fingerprint. Evolutionists say we’re like monkeys, but humans and chickens share tear enzymes—cool, right? My grandfather got a pig valve in his heart. It’s not that we came from them; we share the same Artist’s signature! If God displayed His masterpieces, would you be front and center or hidden behind a trash can? Hebrews 11:16 says God isn’t ashamed to be our God—but we can live where He might be. Never let it get there! Art critics (like me, unasked) say, “I could’ve done that!”—a banana duct-taped to a wall sold for millions (someone ate it—pricey snack!). But only the artist’s intent matters. I see “The Scream” and joke it’s the mother-in-law coming over, but God’s pure intentions for us are what count. 2 Timothy 2 calls us vessels of honor. The Skit Guys’ “God’s Chisel” shows a man begging to be used, and God chisels away pride, lust, shaping him into His image. This first Sunday of 2025, what needs chiseling in us—anger, bitterness, lust, insecurities? Ask God to help. We’re not the Potter—He is. Our value depends on His hands. If you feel like nothing, His hands say you’re loved, with a purpose. His thoughts, not ours, work wonders together.
A Call to Trust the Potter
Let’s pray: Father, thank You for this day, Your goodness, Your mercy. I’m thankful You’re the Potter, I’m just clay. I don’t always understand why things happen, but looking back, I’ve been blessed more by it. I’m grateful You’ve said “no” sometimes. For this church’s 46 years, help us keep going. No candidate changes us—only Jesus can. If any are lost, may they come to this altar, see from Your Word how to be saved. Bless this invitation, in Jesus’ name, amen. Stand, heads bowed, eyes closed—what needs God’s chisel today?