September 7, 2025

In the Potters Hand

Pastor Rok Lee

Jeremiah 18:1-6

1 The word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: 2 “Come, go down to the potter’s house, and there I will let you hear my words.” 3 So I went down to the potter’s house, and there he was working at his wheel. 4 The vessel he was making of clay was spoiled in the potter’s hand, and he reworked it into another vessel, as seemed good to him. 5 Then the word of the Lord came to me: 6 Can I not do with you, O house of Israel, just as this potter has done? says the Lord. Just like the clay in the potter’s hand, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel.

In Marathon, Florida, a community hospital was “demolished unfortunately by an act of God, but we were able to build a brand new facility,” recalled the CEO of Baptist Health.  Nearly four years after Hurricane Irma tore the old building apart, locals now have a state-of-the-art hospital. This real-life story of ruin and restoration echoes Jeremiah’s vision: God is the Master Potter who can reshape even what seems destroyed. Jeremiah 18:1–6 makes this point plain. God sent the prophet to the potter’s house to hear God’s words in the work of an artisan. We read: “The vessel he was making of clay was spoiled in the potter’s hand, and he reworked it into another vessel” (v.4). Like that marred pot, each of us is unfired clay in the Potter’s workshop, never fixed or finished yet.

A potter shaping clay on the wheel—symbolic of God’s hands forming our lives. The Hebrew word yatsar means “to form” or “mold,” and it is precisely this verb that God uses of Himself in Jeremiah 18. “Like clay in the potter’s hand, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel” (v.6). Today, Jeremiah invites us to watch the Potter at work so we may better understand how God deals with God’s people. The Bible repeatedly pictures God as artist and artisan: in Genesis God “formed” (yatsar) the first human from the dust.  God’s work is intimate and intentional. Even after creation, God did not fire the clay from which He made us. That means we are still moldable—capable of change. We are not static pots laid aside, but clay that remains plastic and pliable in the Potter’s hands.

And we should know, God shapes with purpose. God examines our character, sees our strengths and flaws, and keeps working the wheel on us. He never discards a flawed clay pot. This imagery communicates God’s authority, righteousness and patient willingness to remake repentant people. In other words, the Potter exercises both authority and compassion. He can mercilessly break down what is evil (Jer 18:7–10) but even that breaking aims to form something new in the end. Think of the hospital story I shared earlier: what was broken became an opportunity for something better.

In Japan, there is a method of repairing broken pottery called Kintsugi. Normally, once a bowl is broken, it can no longer be used. You might try to gather the pieces and glue them back together with super glue, but it will never return to its original state. Kintsugi, however, is like creating something new. First, all the broken pieces are carefully gathered. Then, each piece is joined together using melted gold. The result is that the once-broken bowl is reborn—more beautiful than it was before. So it is with us. We are broken and wounded, yet God binds up and heals those very wounds (Isaiah 30:26). Through this, we are transformed into new beings—shining even more beautifully than before.

Secondly, we remain unfired clay. Clay not yet fired is soft and softens further with the potter’s touch. We see God’s patience in the fact that our character can always be reshaped. Jeremiah’s potter reworks the spoiled vessel “as seemed good to him”.  Likewise, God can rework even our worst mistakes or defeats into something beautiful.

I want to share the story of Adam Gunton, a man once homeless and weighed down by addiction. During an interview he said, “I was homeless and a drug addict weighing 148 pounds eight years ago. I’m 225 now, working out for five days a week. I just got engaged…and I’m getting ready to build a family”. What transformation. An overdose became his wake-up call, and through hard work and support (including his family’s prayers), he quit drugs and now leads a recovery movement. Gunton’s life was a stained vessel made new. This story tells that nothing is beyond the Potter’s power to remake.

Now, our response matters. Jeremiah’s vision is not meant to leave us passive. God makes clear that human choices count. In the parable, after seeing the potter re-form a jar, God speaks: “Can I not do with you, O house of Israel, as this potter has done?” (v.6). Then in verses 7–10 God explains that the destiny of nations is still open, responsive to repentance. “If that nation…turns from its evil, I will change my mind about the disaster I intended,”(v.8) God says. In other words, we must remain flexible, like unfired clay, so that God can mold us by our own turning and His grace. We are neither automatons nor closed circuits. We remain supple. We may be formed or deformed through abuse and ambition. We are susceptible to influence. We are also resilient, and capable of true conversion. Through it all, each of us forms our own intentions and exercises our own free will what God has given us.

To illustrate, consider a story from Australia. A Melbourne man survived a near-fatal shooting but chose to forgive his attacker. He said that his Christian faith “drove him to forgive” and that, in his words, “The best thing I can do is forgiveness and to show the love of God towards them”. “I’ve forgiven that person because I think that’s the best thing…to show that I’m stronger and better than that,” he explained. Here we see softness of the heart: instead of hardening in anger, he yielded to compassion. His decision turned a cycle of violence into a testimony of grace. God’s words in Jeremiah echo this: “Turn now, all of you, from your evil way, and amend your ways” (v.11). In effect, God says, “Come back, so I can make you again.”

The clay never protests when the potter’s hands softly knead and shape. Our challenge is to yield like that clay, trusting God’s design. God is still shaping our lives today. The Bible assures us that He does so not out of cruelty but out of fatherly love (“Yet you, Lord, are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter” Isaiah 64:8). In Jeremiah 18, God reminds us that no one’s destiny is final: God will rebuild what is torn down and heal what is wounded if we turn to God.

As we leave this place, remember that you are in the Potter’s hand. When life feels like a wheel spinning too fast, or a storm has shattered our hopes, we can still say with faith: “Lord, I am your clay—form me and reshape me.” God’s power is greater than any brokenness. Let us not fear God’s potter’s wheel but welcome its creative touch. Today, let each of us turn from our evil way, yield our will to God’s, and trust that the one who formed us from the dust will complete the good work He has begun in us.

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