look at our covenant and ignore our base behavior.”
This is the first verse from a medieval Hebrew poem that has become a very popular and powerful prayer often sung at Ashkenazi congregation during the high holy days. We’ll sing it in just a few days but few will know that this verse is inspired by today’s chapter in Jeremiah, echoing yet another of the prophet’s performance art protests against injustice and insolence.
Jeremiah enters a potter’s workshop in Jerusalem, and as he watches the potter at work, he has a vision:
We are the clay, the creator is the potter.
He watches the potter at the wheel, constantly destroying their handiwork in order to form a better vessel that’s considered superior. This will be the fate of Jerusalem, Jeremiah sees: It will be destroyed - but eventually rebuilt again.
“O House of Israel, can I not deal with you like this potter?—says YHWH. Just like clay in the hands of the potter, so are you in My hands, O House of Israel!”
Jerusalem’s people don’t appreciate the vision of their proposed demise -- but it IS actually, in the long run, a hopeful one, if not for them then for their descendants.
In Jeremiah's world - from the divine point of view, over the span of history -- there is room for correction and healing. Just like the clay on the potter’s wheel.
Why is clay such an important feature of this vision? Perhaps because it was so common and familiar, enduring and fragile at the same time - like life, like fate.
Pottery is one of the oldest human inventions, with evidence going back to the Neolithic period - 29,000 BCE. It’s often those discovered shards that tell us the stories of emerging and eroding cultures and civilizations, the rise and fall of our species.
It’s this fusion of fragility and endurance that makes the clay a powerful metaphor for how vulnerable we really are.
Reflecting on Jeremaiah’s metaphor from modern-day Jerusalem, Rabbi Analia Bortz writes:
“In its process of creation, pottery is fired at very high temperatures in order to become hard, evoking human beings’ spirits that through the passage of difficult times acquire strength to keep moving on.”
It’s precisely this durability of clay and humans that becomes the surprising flip in the medieval poem that quotes Jeremaiah’s metaphor. In the original context, the prophet realizes that the people of Jerusalem are already in despair - nothing can change their terrible fate, the end is near. He quotes their fatalism, even as he offers them a recipe for remorse and repair, inspired by the potter’s process:
“But they will say, with despair, “It is no use. We will keep on following our own plans; each of us will act in the willfulness of our own evil heart.”
But the prayer, author unknown, flips this script of despair. Jeremiah’s words convey the message of eventual repair - through an ongoing cycle of destruction and creation, meant to teach the people of Jerusalem a lesson about fragility and awe of their creator. The prayer takes it into active re-imagination and the power of change.
If we are clay - then we are malleable, a breathing, living clump of life, forever evolving to be this vessel or that, in service to the greater good. It’s a humbling vision. And unlike pieces of pottery - we are made of poetry and power to take responsibility for our actions and thoughts. That’s why this became a central poem of atonement. Even if we don’t believe in a divine creator who shapes our wills and fates - can we read this prayer as a personal plea for being better?
“We submit ourselves as raw material, and call upon whoever our creator is to remember our bonds, our deeper commitment to the good, calling on our inner selves to become something better than our drives and sometimes base behaviors.”
Faced with our fragility we can turn to despair like Jeremiah’s listeners, or focus on durability, leaning into being vulnerable and finding our strength in the power of change - for good. We may not be in charge of our fate - but we do have agency over what and how we think, do, choose and believe. We are both clay - and potter - in some ways, anyway.
Jeremiah will leave the potter’s workshop with a metaphor for the ages - and also with a clay jar in hand - an ancient bottle that will be the icon of the battle between the broken and the whole, the ongoing dance between despair and hope.
This broken bottle is the focus of tomorrow’s chapter (and this month’s zoom conversation.)
JOIN ME:
Breaking the Bottle: Jeremiah’s Prophetic Performance Art
OUR NEXT BELOW THE BIBLE BELT ZOOM TALK - 9/13 - AT 5PM ET.
Was Jeremiah a performing artist protesting social ills? Was he a poet speaking truth to power or a madman everybody tried to avoid?
What does his story have to teach us today, on the eve of a new Jewish year?
All are invited to join me on Zoom for our next Monthly Conversation, - just in time for a new Jewish year and continued political challenges - everywhere.
We’re trying on a new time - happy hour!
Join us on Wednesday, September 13th 2023, at 5pm ET.
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