A Simple Lump of Clay

Matthew’s swollen ankles and tired feet betrayed his insistence he could walk further with the Master Craftsman. All day, the apprentice and the Craftsman searched in various shops for the precise lump of clay for the His next masterpiece.
Shades of amber eased across and down the white washed buildings. Darkness would over take them if they didn’t hurry.
After entering another shop, the apprentice spotted a perfectly round, gray piece of clay. “Look Master at the tint of this one, it’s beautiful.”
“Yes, but when finished it will proudly claim its beauty was its own,” answered the Master.
“Over here, then,” said the weary apprentice pointing to yet another specimen. “This one is firm and thick. Feel its strength.”
The Master picked it up turning the piece over and over examining it closely. “This is why it won’t due, either. Even with my design, the object will stand proud thinking its strength emanated from itself.”
They left empty-handed for another establishment.
“Ah – I think we’ve found it,” Matthew said excitedly “This will make a fine vessel. When touched and squeezed it pushes back like its anxious to join Your other prized creations.”
But the Craftsman explained. “And that is exactly why I won’t use it. This small slab is pre-shaped and cut. The elements within it will try to dictate my sculpturing—demanding power and position.”
The apprentice signed. Will nothing ever please the Master?

The last shaft of light squinted through the window.
Mindful of the hour, the apprentice pointed out, “Soon we will not have the proper light. We should finish and go.”
“No, we can’t leave. Come over here.” The Craftsman gestured towards the corner. “Look what’s hiding underneath this canvas.”
Surprised, Matthew’s eyes widened. “But, this clump is dry and crumbly. There’s no moisture; the terra cotta color is dull lacking texture. It looks used and beaten down. There’s nothing to shape. It reminds me of someone who’s lived a wayward life and lost.”
“Precisely,” exclaimed the Master. “The previous specimens tried to impress me through other means. This bedraggled piece has nothing to offer. It can only rely on me to create something beautiful from its sorted past. It can’t depend on anything or anyone else to make it right.”
The Master gingerly fingered the ugly, withered lump. “This one is worth purchasing. This one is worth My sacrifice. This one is worth the high price I’m willingly to pay.” With great anticipation, He left.
The dismayed apprentice limped behind. Dear reader, this allegory embraces us with encouragement. The Master makes it clear that possessing impressive attributes will not absolve our shattered pasts. Like the disfigured piece of clay who could only become whole through the Master, we too, are only made clean and righteous through Christ when we come to Him as we are: “He reached down from on high [His Heavenly home] and took hold of me and drew me out of the deep water” (Psalm 18:16 NKJV). Easter Blessings, Amen!