A Glimpse into Future Glory
A Glimpse into Future Glory by Rev. L. John Gable
February 14, 2021
Perhaps like many of you Kristin and I have explored the height and depth, the length and breadth of our Netflix subscription during this pandemic season. Some shows and series we have thoroughly enjoyed and would readily recommend; others not so much.
One we discovered just recently and have really enjoyed is called Blown Away. It is a competition show based on ten glass blowers who in each episode are asked to produce unique and original pieces of blown glass which then are judged, with one of the artists being recognized as “best in the show” and another being sent home.
I should mention, we know nothing about glass blowing although it dates back to the Roman era and before. Glass is simply made up of sand, soda ash, limestone and some color which then is mixed and melted to a liquid state in furnaces reaching 2000 degrees. The molten glass is then dipped out on the tips of long blow pipes which, as the name implies, the artist uses to blow (to exhale not inhale) in to that mass of liquid glass, shaping and molding it with tools and torches as it expands. In the process the glass quickly cools and hardens so the artist has to repeatedly place it back in to what are called “glory holes”, furnaces of a mere 1800 degrees which then resoftens the glass sufficiently for further shaping, before finally being put in to what is called an annealer, another kind of kiln, designed to gradually cool the glass without it cracking.
The show is aptly named as we have been “blown away” by the process and the pieces they produce in a matter of hours which are stunningly magnificent, even those voted off the show. However, we discovered one of the most interesting and heart-breaking aspects of working with glass is how fragile it is. At any point in the process a simple movement, an incidental touch, a sudden change in temperature reduces a masterpiece to a shattered pile of shards. Such is the nature of working with glass.
Holding that image in mind for a moment let me tell you about an experience I had in high school when I attended a national conference of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes in Ft. Collins, CO.
There were many speakers throughout the week, one being a weight lifter named Paul Anderson, an Olympic medalist, two time National and World champion power-lifter, who had formerly been named the strongest man in the world. He stood before those 1000+ young athletes and performed incredible feats of strength. At one point he invited 5-6 of the biggest athletes there to come up on the stage and sit on a table. He then got under the table and lifted them all up. We were all amazed by what he was able to do; but what I remember most vividly was the incredibly simple message he gave after he demonstrated his incredible strength. He pointed at that enamored crowd of young athletes and said, “If I need Jesus Christ, you do too!” Point duly noted by this 125 lb, not very athletic, high- schooler.
Another speaker that week gave an equally memorable message. He was a potter. Sitting at his wheel he described the art of shaping and forming clay. We watched as the spinning clay rose and fell, expanded and contracted, in his hands, responsive to even the slightest touch of his fingers. There was not a sound in that auditorium as we watched him fashion a magnificent chalice out of what was once an ill-shapened lump of clay, but then there was an auditory gasp as he took that beautifully formed piece and threw it on the floor. Why would he do such a thing? Why would he destroy such as beautifully crafted piece of art? But then we watched in silence again as he took that same mass of clay, threw it back on his wheel and refashioned it.
Both of those messages left an indelible impression on my mind and on my faith, which of course they did if I remember them still so vividly all these years later. Recall the saying, “I’d rather see a sermon than hear one any day.”
In a very similar way the prophet Jeremiah tells of being directed by the Lord to visit the house of a potter one day. He watched as the artisan worked at his wheel, shaping and forming the clay in his hands, keeping and firing some of the pieces he made, destroying and reshaping still others. Using this object lesson, the Lord said to Jeremiah, “Can I not do with you, O house of Israel, just as this potter has done? Just like the clay in the potter’s hand, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel.” Clearly the potter, in this analogy God, has mastery over the material He uses and intends every piece of His chosen material to be shaped and formed in such a way that it can later be both used and useful; but there is something very interesting about the example he uses. The clay, the chosen material, also seems to have some agency here, some responsibility, some ability to respond or not, to the Master’s touch. The intention of the Master, be it for a nation like Israel or Judah or any one of us as individuals or collectively as a church, is to make us useful for His Kingdom purposes. The Lord’s desire for each and every one of us is good and pure and beneficial, but we, as His chosen material, also have some responsibility, some ability to respond, or not, to the Master’s touch, either to be shaped and formed in the way He intends or to reject and rebel against it. Interestingly enough, it is the material which determines the outcome. It is the Potter’s desire to make us beautiful and useful, but God will also honor the request of those who choose to be disobedient and rebellious, even as He will continue to work at reshaping those who repent and respond to His reforming touch. Even a destroyed piece can be remade and restored, be it clay, a nation, an individual.
So the question I pose to you today, the question each of us must ask and answer for ourselves, is, “Am I glass or am I clay in the Master’s hand?” How do I respond to the Master’s touch? Am I like glass, which while at first is responsive and formable, have I now become too brittle and rigid and inflexible, too fragile, too set and determined in my ways to be reworked, reformed? Am I shattered by the slightest touch or change which takes me out of my comfort zone? Am I so set in my ways, so right and rigid in my understanding of the ways of God, that I have become utterly useless in the work of His Kingdom? Good only to be put on the shelf and admired? As one southern pastor put it, “Saved, Satisfied, and Stuck.” Please believe me when I say, I ask this as much of myself as I do of you.
Or am I like clay? Still malleable, still formable, shapeable and adaptable, still responsive to the Master’s touch, still open to the movement and breath of His Holy Spirit, melting me, molding me, filling me, using me, in the work of His Kingdom? When Paul echoes Jeremiah’s example in his letter to the Romans he writes, “But who indeed are you, a human being, to argue with God? Will what is molded say to the one who molds it, “Why have you made me like this?” Has the potter no right over the clay, to make out of the same lump one object for special use and another for ordinary use?” Am I “clay-like” enough to be grateful and honored that I have been chosen by the Potter at all to be shaped and formed in to an instrument of His use, whether it be special or common? Oh, to be used by God, even once in a lifetime, surely is life’s greatest joy and honor, but apparently the decision as to how useable we are is ours. Am I glass, too fragile to be used or useful, or am I clay, ready and willing to be shaped and formed in any way God sees fit? Who am I to say to God, “Why have you made me like this?” Whether for special or common purposes, I just want to be used.
In his seminal writing, the Institutes of the Christian Religion, John Calvin writes:
“We are not our own; therefore neither our reason nor our will should predominate in our deliberations and actions.
We are not our own: therefore let us not propose it our end to seek what may be expedient for us according to the flesh.
We are not our own; therefore let us, as far as possible, forget ourselves and all things that are ours.
On the contrary, we are God’s; to Him, therefore, let us live and die.
We are God’s; therefore let His wisdom and will preside in all our actions.
We are God’s; towards Him, therefore, as our only legitimate end, let every part of our lives be directed.” Institutes III,7.
The seal of John Calvin, this incredible 16th century thinker and theologian whose writings shape and inform so much of our understanding of the Protestant Reformed faith still today, is a hand holding a heart which is on fire. Around the heart is written, “My heart I give Thee, O Lord, eagerly and sincerely.” May this be our prayer as well today, yours and mine. The question we each must ask ofourselves is this: “Is my heart ignitable for God?” Am I glass or am I clay in the Master’s hand?
Let us pray.
“Spirit of the Living God, fall afresh on me.
Spirit of the Living God, fall afresh on me.
Melt me, mold me, fill me, use me.
Spirit of the Living God, fall afresh on me.”
Lord, hear our prayer….