My unseen Spirit
moves where it will. The impossible is not difficult for me. I am the
Potter,
you are the clay. Can you tell me how to fashion my creation?
A formless lump of kaolin has to be thrown violently onto a hard surface
to
remove air pockets and align all the particle platelets. This can only
be
achieved by force. Then it is kneaded and kneaded until smooth and
elastic
before it can to be raised up into a vessel fit to accept the indwelling
of my
Spirit. Yet this process is still only the beginning. My hands push and
pull
the unwieldy clay as it fights to retain its ugly shape. Being
without
eyes, the clay cannot grasp the beauty to come.
As the wheel of life turns and my strong hands alternately squeeze and
smooth
the mass – behold – something lovely begins to take shape. I am forming a
vessel to dwell in, but much work has to be done before it is ready to
serve
its full purpose.
Slowly becoming easier to work, the thick, ungainly walls grow more
delicate
and transparent as the process of intimate love continues. At this
point, the
basic form is complete but still needs refining. This has to take place
slowly
and gently. The vessel cannot dry out too soon or it would crack. I know
the
exact time necessary for each piece to dry sufficiently so the next
process can
take place. The leather-hard vessel is covered and carefully stored in a
darkened place to harden and dessicate, away from contaminating dust and
sunlight. Too much light would dry it out too quickly.
Each creation is individually tended by the Potter, who alone knows its
inherent properties and flaws. When the pot is dry enough, it is
basically the
right shape but cannot hold water. Water would be absorbed and liquidise
the
clay particles. The result would be a muddy slurry – an adulterated
mixture of
self and Christ. The only way to make such a vessel waterproof is by
fire. It
takes extremely high temperatures to turn kaolin into glass in order to
produce
porcelain. The heating process is painful and seldom desired by the
green clay.
The vessel is never put directly into a red-hot kiln or it would explode
and
shatter into useless pieces. It is always placed, very carefully, into a
cold
kiln, usually along with other vessels of differing shape and size.
Occasionally, a vessel designed to hold a vast quantity of water is
placed on
its own in the kiln. The heat is gradually but slowly increased,
gradually and
incrementally drying up the last vestiges of moisture until the vessel
begins
to glow with light. The Potter periodically opens the bung to observe
and check
the process, never leaving the vessel unattended for too long. At soon
as the
kiln reaches its predetermined temperature - the heat is turned off.
The process of vitrification is a miracle in itself. This is always
brought
about by the Potter. It is He alone who sets the temperature controls,
determines the duration and watches over His creation. Impurities are
burned
away and the kaolin goes through a chemical change, being permanently
hardened
to withstand heat and the ravages of time. The porcelain vessel may be
broken
after firing but can never be destroyed!
