Wednesday in the Second Week

Jeremiah 18:1-11, 18-20; Psalm 31:9-16; Matthew 20:17-28

It may sound presumptuous to say that I feel sorry for God, but I do.  God made us to share in creation, to delight in one another and in God, to care for one another and for God and all creation.  But we do go astray, in ways small to cataclysmic.  And so often when we do, and disaster follows, we then blame God.  It’s because God either doesn’t exist, or God isn’t good.  it’s because God hates evildoers and loves to punish.  It’s because God isn’t really able to stand up against the forces of evil.  And so on.

God tells Jeremiah to tell the people that it’s not like that.  God doesn’t want to punish.  God wants them to turn as the people of Nineveh turned when Jonah prophesied.  But God is not codependent.  If the people insist on destroying creation and one another, if they insist on turning from God, then God will keep on creating.  As a potter destroys a pot to make one that will serve, God will rework creation when it’s not working.  

I imagine if the pot could think and speak it would say, “That potter is so unjust and cruel!  I may not be perfect, but I have feelings!  How can she blame me for being a little cracked!”  Or, if the pot was really clever, it might say, “I’m not being crushed at all!  I’m just fine!  I’m a little dusty, a little leaky - oops, there goes my side - but I’m just fine!”  (For those of you who remember, the knight in Monty Python who loses legs, arms, and keeps taunting.)  The pot can protest its innocence, or it can deny its destruction, but neither restores its relationship with the potter.  Only submitting to the design of the potter enables the clay to be useful and whole.

Poor God, pleading with us to return.  Not codependent, not willing to pretend that we are whole when we aren’t, but loving.  Loving to the point of coming as us and showing us how to face into death with eyes open and hearts on fire.  Loving to the point of serving and putting up with disciples who don’t get it - like me.  Maybe like you.

Dear God, please don’t give up on me.  Help me turn to you today, and hear your voice.  Let me feel your hands molding me as hands of love rather than punishment.  Give me strength to endure your refashioning, so that I can share in your joy.  Amen.