When the Spirit-Driven Task Force at Shepherd of the Hills Lutheran Church met on Sunday, Oct. 16, 2011, the members discussed Christian Education. This was a reflection shared during the devotions.
In the second creation story in Genesis, we hear that “the LORD God formed man out of the clay of the ground and blew into his nostrils the breath of life, and so man became a living being” (Gen. 2:7, NAB). And later, the prophet Isaiah proclaims to God, “Yet, O LORD, you are our father; we are the clay and you the potter: we are all the work of your hands” (Isaiah 64:7, NAB)
How long does it take for a lump of clay, pounded, kneaded, picked free of stones, thrown onto a wheel, pressed under strong hands, shaped by firm muscles, drawn up into graceful curves, adorned with patterns, and then set aside to dry, to face the fires, to be glazed and fired again—how long does it take for that lump of clay to fathom the potter’s mind and heart?
How long does it take us to begin to glimpse the splendor of that potter’s creative vision? How long to come to appreciate the intricacy and the beauty of the design pressed upon us, the plan guiding the throwing of a whole set of pieces, the compassion of pounding down a misshapen pot and beginning anew until the lump takes just the right form?
At least a lifetime. At least all the days we have received as gifts from our Master Potter. And so we begin. From the day he washed the dirt from us in Holy Baptism and made us his children, we have confessed, “I believe in God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” Then we have learned to ask in company with those who have gone before us, “What does this mean?”
And for the hints of an answer, for insights into wisdom that lies beyond us, we turn to the Scriptures, the Creeds, the Confessions, the Church’s Traditions of Liturgy, and her Teachings of Morality. We look in these places for the palm prints, the impressions of the divine hands that shape us, that turn us from formless muddy lumps into creatures fashioned in the image of God, people redeemed from death by the Son’s sacrifice, sinful saints living only by the power of the Spirit.
How long does it take? Maybe that’s the wrong question. Perhaps we ought to ask God, “We won’t ever finish exploring your mind and mission, will we?” Why would we want to? What else could possibly matter more, be more significant, consume us so fully, fill us so completely?
Because we are God’s pottery, we are not God, but instead his handiwork. The shape we have, the grace filling us, the promise that leads us all come from him and not from within us. And so for us to learn about God is to come to appreciate the form he has given us, the marks he has pressed upon us, the design he has worked into his world, the plan for our redeeming. We learn about God when we receive our form, shape, and pattern, our ways of thinking and reflecting, our wisdom and understanding from what comes to us from beyond us.
That’s why we, as God’s pottery, do well when we embrace our learning as formation rather than education. Formation reminds us that our shape comes from outside of us and is pressed upon us. Education leads us instead to focus upon what we draw out of ourselves—the word’s root meaning.
What is the end—the purpose—of our formation? St. Paul offers a prayer for the Ephesians that speaks of us, as well:
For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that he may grant you in accord with the riches of his glory to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in the inner self, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the holy ones what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with the fullness of God” (Eph. 3:14–19, NAB).
Amen.