Readings: Jeremiah 18:1-11& Luke 14:25-33 

There is something therapeutic, almost primal about working with clay.  The feel of it in your hands as you shape it, the knowledge that you can smash it back down into a clump so that you can begin again.  In the hands of a skilled potter it is magic.  The clay on the potter’s wheel almost takes on a life of its own.  The wheel spins faster and faster.  The bowl seems to simply rise out of the wheel and take shape.  Yet even the most skilled potter finds it necessary from time to time to reduce it to a lump and simply begin again.  The wonder of clay is that as long as it is kept moist it can be reworked until a thing of great beauty emerges. 

Jeremiah, one of the great Old Testament prophets, lived at a time of unrest in Israel’s history.  They were a conquered people, forced to live in exile.  While many lost their connection to God, Jeremiah remained faithful to his Jewish roots and was even imprisoned for his faith. 

One day he found himself drawn to the house of a potter.  He stood mesmerized watching the wheel turn as the potter worked the clay.  Then suddenly the wheel stopped.  Something had gone amiss.  In an instant the half-formed clay became a shapeless mass.  The wheel started up as the potter began to rework the clay.  He continued to work until it was transformed into a vessel of great beauty and symmetry. 

It was a moment of revelation for the prophet.  In that image, he saw clearly the situation in his own country, the moral decay that had set in.  He knew that his Jewish friends and neighbours had rejected God.  He took heart as he remembered that just as the potter is able to rework the clay, God is able to rework each one of us.   For Jeremiah it was a message of great hope.  God had not given up on the people of Israel.  God would continue to reach out to them, calling them back into relationship, offering forgiveness.  What hope that gave to Jeremiah!  All that needed to happen, he understood in that moment of revelation is a willingness on the part of the people to change. 

That is all it ever takes, isn’t it?  A willingness to change and grow, to recommit ourselves!  But how difficult that is for us! It is that joke that we can tell about ourselves.  How many Anglicans does it take to change a light bulb?  None! We never change.  The fact remains, relationship with Christ demands a total remoulding of our lives.  It demands a willingness to change.  That message is clear from today’s gospel reading.

Large crowds are following Jesus.  He is a celebrity.  Wherever he goes the crowds gather.  Some want to be healed.  Others want to see him, hear him speak.  Others have been touched before and want more.  Jesus confronts them.  It isn’t enough to simply follow along with the crowd. 

To be a disciple of Christ demands a radical reshaping of our lives.  That means taking up one’s cross, whether that be suffering, speaking out, giving … Whatever it means it demands an answer to the question, “Can you afford to follow me?  Life is costly if we are going to live it in response to Jesus’ call.  There are demands of self-sacrifice.  There are actions and decisions of costly love.  We may be called to shoulder responsibility, to carry sorrow, to endure physical struggle.  People may say of us, “I don’t know how that person copes.  It must be their faith.” 

Can’t we all think of times when our faith sustained us?  Over and over again in my own life I come to realize that it is those moments of re-shaping and re-newing that are the most important markers in my life of faith. They are the moments that help me to understand the 'woundedness' of my life. They are moments of transformation that help me to become all that God intends me to be. God is there to shape and re-shape, to forgive, to bring us back into relationship when we fall away. Not only that, it is our woundedness that helps us to reach out to others to bring about a transformation in their lives. As we realize the wonders that God has worked in our lives, so we recognize God at work in the lives of others. We begin to see the face of Christ in those we meet.

That is at least part of the message at the heart of that very difficult Gospel passage. “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.”  Such harsh words coming from Jesus! Words that cut to the quick! He asks them to turn their backs on their nearest and dearest.  It certainly gets their attention, these people who want an easy answer.  Jesus is saying that there are choices to be made.  “You had better count the cost if you are going to be my disciples,” he says to them.   “My purpose for your life must take precedence over your country, parents, mates, children, even your own life.”  Considering the course of events, the only allegiance likely to last was exactly what Jesus asked for.  He never expected that his followers would get by with anything less than total commitment.  It rather limited his following – a few publicans, some fisherman and several women. 

Such has been the call of the faithful throughout the ages.  Abraham was called to leave his own country for a promise.  Moses was called to turn his back on those who brought him up.  Jeremiah was asked to deny himself of family to follow God.  Jesus’ disciples were called to take up their cross, deny themselves and follow him.   That remains the call of the faithful. 

Life is costly if we are going to live it in response to Jesus' call. There are demands of self-sacrifice. There are actions and decisions of costly love. We may be called on to conduct ourselves with courage. We may be called on to shoulder responsibility, to carry sorrow, or to endure physical struggle. We may be called on, not simply to talk the talk, but to walk the walk. Like Jeremiah in the potter's house, we may suddenly come to understand. As the clay is worked and reworked by the potter until something useful emerges, so if we let God work with us, we will become the disciples God intends us to be, vessels of God's love and beauty.  We will be transformed.