A Simple Lump of Clay
by Sharon Stuart Reidenbach
Matthew’s swollen ankles and tired feet betrayed his
insistence he could walk further with the Master Craftsman. All day,
the apprentice and the Craftsman searched in various shops for the
precise lump of clay for the His next masterpiece.
Shades of amber eased across and down the white washed
buildings. Darkness would over take them if they didn’t hurry.
After entering another shop, the apprentice spotted a
perfectly round, gray piece of clay. “Look Master at the tint of this
one, it’s beautiful.”
“Yes, but when finished it will proudly claim its
beauty was its own,” answered the Master.
“Over here, then,” said the weary apprentice pointing
to yet another specimen. “This one is firm and thick. Feel its
strength.”
The Master picked it up turning the piece over and over
examining it closely. “This is why it won’t due, either. Even with my
design, the object will stand proud thinking its strength emanated
from itself.”
They left empty-handed for another establishment.
“Ah – I think we’ve found it,” Matthew said excitedly
“This will make a fine vessel. When touched and squeezed it pushes
back like its anxious to join Your other prized creations.”
But the Craftsman explained. “And that is exactly why
I won’t use it. This small slab is pre-shaped and cut. The elements
within it will try to dictate my sculpturing—demanding power and
position.”
The apprentice signed. Will nothing ever please the
Master?
The last shaft of light squinted through the window.
Mindful of the hour, the apprentice pointed out, “Soon
we will not have the proper light. We should finish and go.”
“No, we can’t leave. Come over here.” The Craftsman
gestured towards the corner. “Look what’s hiding underneath this
canvas.”
Surprised, Matthew’s eyes widened. “But, this clump is dry
and crumbly. There’s no moisture; the terra cotta color is dull
lacking texture. It looks used and beaten down. There’s nothing to
shape. It reminds me of someone who’s lived a wayward life and lost.”
“Precisely,” exclaimed the Master. “The previous
specimens tried to impress me through other means. This bedraggled
piece has nothing to offer. It can only rely on me to create something
beautiful from its sorted past. It can’t depend on anything or anyone
else to make it right.”
The Master gingerly fingered the ugly, withered lump.
“This one is worth purchasing. This one is worth My sacrifice. This
one is worth the high price I’m willingly to pay.”
With great anticipation, He left.
The dismayed apprentice limped behind.
Dear reader, this allegory embraces us with encouragement. The Master
makes it clear that possessing impressive attributes will not absolve
our shattered pasts. Like the disfigured piece of clay who could only
become whole through the Master, we too, are only made clean and
righteous through Christ when we come to Him as we are: “He reached
down from on high [His Heavenly home] and took hold of me and drew me
out of the deep water” (Psalm 18:16 NKJV). Easter Blessings, Amen!
|