Dr. John Hunter
I I l k W k V
W HILE SERVING the Lord in the Orient, we had the privilege of visiting a number of remote villages, away from the spots where the tour ists go. I was able to see the country as it really is. We held conferences with some missionaries serving with the Christian and Missionary Alliance. What a blessing it was to be with them! ' ' I was taken to meet the old village craftsman, a potter by trade. They make vessels in the same manner as they did in Bible times. The place where he lived and worked was very common, just a little unpretentious hut amid all the poverty and dryness. India broke my heart as I realized the many needs of the people, not the least of which is spiritual. My missionary host asked the pot ter to make something for me. He agreed and sent one of his grandchil dren out with a paper sack to get some clay dust. The potter took this and sprinkled water into it, just as you ladies would if you were mixing batter for a cake. The substance be came a “sloshy” mess. The old man, with a long, drooping, gray mus tache and wearing just a loin cloth, sat at the wheel. By now a small crowd had gathered to watch him work. He checked the mixture, added a little more dust and then a little more water so that it was just the right consistency. He put it on the center of the wheel, which was just a little larger than the wheel of an automobile. As it spun around the process began. He worked deftly, al most like magic. His hands seemed to be talking to the clay. He was really thinking through his fingers. He had no plan and asked me what I wanted made. I pointed to a vase he had made sometime before suggesting that he \
duplicate it. It literally grew up be fore my eyes. My mind went to the verse of Scripture in Jeremiah 18:2, “Arise, and go down to the potter’s house, and there I will cause thee to hear my words.” This was exactly what I was doing. It was fascinating to think of the picture the Bible gave. “Then I went down to the potter’s house, and, behold, he wrought a work on the wheels. And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter; so he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it. Then the word of the Lord came to me, say ing, 0 house of Israel, cannot I do with you as this potter? saith the Lord. Behold, as the clay is in the potter’s hand, so are ye in mine hand, 0 house of Israel” (Jer. 18:3-6). This artisan in a remote Indian village was doing the same. Then, all of a sudden, the old man stopped. His sensitive fingers evidently had felt something rough. It may have been a stone or a small twig. Something was not right. If left in the vessel, it could spoil his finished product. The shape might be correct but the flaw could cause it to leak and crack. Jeremiah had stopped, too. He also saw something out of the way. With sudden finality the whole mass was crushed to one glob of clay again. He didn’t throw the substance away but started all over again. There is a similarity with our lives, to the clay,- upon the potter’s wheel. God is teaching us an important lesson. We, too, need to be molded in His sensi tive hands. Watching the potter, I learned sev eral important things. First, the wheel always must be turning. If it doesn’t, the vessel will never grow. 3
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