What Shapes Us
Most of the time, the metaphor of God as potter is celebrated as an image of God’s power. But there is also a profound wisdom in the image of us as clay. It’s certainly an unfashionable wisdom this day and age, where many in our world still believe in the idea of the self-made man or woman. The American dream, for example, is not that we’re clay but that we’re our own potter. The American dream that has been baked into us is that anyone can pull themselves up by their own bootstraps and accomplish anything they set their mind to doing.
But I think Jeremiah’s metaphor is much closer to the truth. Like clay, we are regularly and deeply shaped by the world around us. Studies have found, for instance, that place shapes us. Zip code—where we grow up—is a better predictor of health than genetic code and is also closely correlated to its residents’ education and income levels.[1] Words shape us. Imagine, for instance, the difference between a child whose parents regularly tell her, “How sweet you are! How beautiful, how smart!” and a child who hears, “Why can’t you just be quiet! You’re so annoying.” One becomes a much-respected teacher or a tactful business leader, the other becomes combative and suspicious and unable to hold down a job. Our screens shape us: our smart phones, which tell us we should always be entertained and there should never be an empty moment; the endless advertisements, which tell us that we don’t ever have enough, and wouldn’t this look good in our homes, and don’t we need another pair of these?; our social media outlets, which tell us who is good and who is bad and what the solution is. Our stories shape us, perhaps more than anything else: the stories we learn at school about what happened in the past and how it lives on in the present; the stories we learn in our homes about what matters most in life; the stories we learn in our churches, synagogues, mosques, about who God is.
We are shaped by so many different forces. Some of these are part of God’s handiwork, but many are not. For example, the idea that we do not have enough and the greed for more make us callous and less caring toward the need of others. God makes this exact diagnosis of the people of Judah elsewhere in the book of Jeremiah: “They have become great and rich [but] they do not defend the rights of the needy” (5:27-28).
Another influence that shapes us in ways contrary to God’s design is the idolatry of force and strength. The way of Christ is not the way of the sword, and yet the sword is precisely where much of our world places its trust. It trusts in armies and guns and powerful people. Similarly, when Judah felt threatened by Babylon, it sought the help of neighboring empires and their militaries. But God responds, elsewhere in Jeremiah, “Have you not brought this [imminent destruction and exile] upon yourself by forsaking the Lord your God, while he led you in the way? What then do you gain by going to [the empire of] Egypt…or what do you gain by going to [the empire of] Assyria? Your wickedness will punish you” (2:17-19). God implies a connection between Judah’s trust in the might and muscle of empire and its own wickedness. Because it worships force, its people use it at every turn to get their own way, which results in all manner of struggle and injustice.
God Works with
the Clay Rather than on It
I’ve heard that potters, on occasion, will complain that the clay is just being stubborn and not cooperating. I think that is how God is feeling when God says, “I am a potter shaping evil against you” (18:11). In other words, I don’t think God purposefully shapes evil for Judah or anyone, but rather that this is the natural consequence when we allow ourselves to be shaped by something other than God’s love. We become hardened in our selfish ways, stubborn and obstinate. We become uncooperative clay. Elsewhere in the book of Jeremiah, God explains, “Your [own] ways and your doings have brought this upon you” (4:18; cf. 6:18).
The good news of Jeremiah, which is the same as the good news of Christ, is not that God is all-powerful and will work out any kinks in our clay and magically turn us into a good product. The good news is not a God of power, but a God of relationship. This is not a potter who works on the clay, but rather a potter who works with the clay. It’s not unlike the relationship between a parent and a child. A parent can guarantee love, but they cannot guarantee their child’s wellbeing. I had a good friend growing up whose sister tragically fell into a group of friends who lived recklessly and impulsively, constantly pushing boundaries and seeking new thrills, including drugs. Their influence shaped her. She absorbed the message that she was different and damaged. Her heart was hardened to her parents’ love. But after a couple of decades, she has rediscovered a healthy balance of life—and a fundamental reason for that was her parents’ love. Her parents’ love could not magically fix her life, not when she resisted it, but their love also never gave up or left her. So, when she finally broke down and opened up, they were there. Their love helped her to heal.
That is the good news that Jeremiah proclaims. God never leaves, God never gives up. When we turn away from the forces that are shaping us for ill, God will lovingly embrace us and shape us into a new, better shape (cf. 18:4). Even if we are as stubborn as Judah, so stubborn that there’s nothing to do but let the misshapen creation eventually shatter (cf. Jer 19), God will always be waiting for us with plans to restore us, as God was for Judah (29:10-14).
In God’s Hands, We
Are Enough
Today’s passage invites me to consider myself as a lump of clay. It invites me to observe what is shaping me and to ask whether these influences are God’s handiwork or not.
Henri Nouwen, a Catholic priest who preached the good news of downward mobility—that is, living not for success but for relationship—said that the world tells us three common stories that shape us profoundly. One is the story that I am what I have. Another is the story that I am what I achieve, or what I am able to do. Another is the story that I am what others think of me. Each of these stories tells us that we are not safe until we have somehow secured ourselves. They make us hard and inflexible in the pursuit of something we’ll never find. They tell us we do not have enough, we cannot do enough, or we are not desirable enough. They tell us we need more votes, more victories, more money, more land, more followers, more likes, more members, more programs, more, more, more…
In stark contrast to these stories, is the story of a God who took some dirt from the ground, “formed” it (Gen 2:7)—just as a potter forms the clay[2]—and breathed his very own breath into it. According to this story, we are enough. Just as we are. God will forever love us, not for what we have or do or look like, but because we are God’s children. At the end of the day, being clay is not about accomplishing anything; in fact, it appears that self-striving makes us rigid and intractable and impedes the potter’s process. No, being clay is simply about appreciating the hands that form you and the breath that fills you with life and the God who says, “You are my beloved child. With you, I am well pleased.”
The good news of Jeremiah—and Christ—is not a God of power, but a God of relationship. It is the good news that we are in a loving God’s hands, and nothing other than our own stubborn, hardened will can keep us from feeling God’s touch. Tragically, Judah stopped listening to this good news, when it started aching for the security of possessions and power and prestige. We often forget the good news ourselves, we who are taught to be go-getters, movers-and-shakers, head-turners. But thankfully no amount of stubbornness or forgetfulness will ever change the good news itself. We belong to a God who loves us, just as we are. We are safe in God’s hands.
At the beginning of the service,
You were given a sealed plastic bag
With a piece of play-dough and a little pebble.
Keeping the bag closed,
I invite you to feel the pebble with your fingers.
Feel its every edge.
Feel its hardness, how it will not be shaped.
Now feel the play-dough with your fingers.
Feel how it receives your touch.
Feel its softness, how it moves with your fingers.
Remember that you are clay.
And do not be afraid—
For you are in the hands
Of a God who loves you
With a love stronger than death,
Because you are God’s very own.
[1] E.g.,
Jamie Ducharme and Elijah Wolfson, “Your ZIP Code Might Determine How Long You
Live—and the Difference Could Be Decades,” https://time.com/5608268/zip-code-health/,
accessed August 29, 2022.
[2] The
verb “form” and the noun “potter” both derive from the same Hebrew root, יצר.
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