A Reflection on Pottery, Faith & Imperfection



In my last post I posted pictures of several pieces I brought home from a recent firing. I had omitted this one on purpose. I love this glaze. It is called smoky brown. No one else in the studio likes it, so the entire rich bucket of glaze is essentially mine. It comes out a deep brown that has hints of a smoky blue haze in it. The picture doesn't really do the glaze justice.


I omitted this piece in my last post because of the a one-inch section where the glaze crawled (pulled away from the piece) leaving the white body exposed. For the most part, it is all I can see. If I force myself, I can see the big picture. The plate itself is gorgeous, and I love the glaze. If only it wasn't for that small imperfection. If only.


Many years ago, when I was Junior Warden (a lay leader position) of our church I was talking to parishioners individually about them taking up a leadership position on the Vestry (the leadership body of local church). I was talking to a woman who is about ten years older than me. When I asked her to consider running for Vestry she laughed nervously. After we spoke I learned that it had nothing to do with the time commitment. She told me that she didn't know exactly what she believed. She said that her faith wasn't nearly as strong as mine.


Then I laughed nervously. Me? Strong faith? Seriously, no.


No one thinks their faith is quite strong enough. Me included. I remember reading a Time article last summer about Mother Teresa's intense doubts and lack of faith. She had felt removed from God. The article stated, "In a letter to a spiritual confidant, the Rev. Michael van der Peet... she wrote with weary familiarity of a different Christ, an absent one. "Jesus has a very special love for you," she assured Van der Peet. "[But] as for me, the silence and the emptiness is so great, that I look and do not see, — Listen and do not hear — the tongue moves [in prayer] but does not speak ... I want you to pray for me — that I let Him have [a] free hand." (Time Magazine, Aug 23, 2007). But yet, amidst that faith struggle, she lead a public life of service to the Christ she saw in humanity. Her doubts did not halt her action in the world.

What do we do with our imperfect pottery? I usually put mine on a shelf in a room no one goes into. And push it way to the back so no one will see it. To me, that small imperfection makes it ugly, and there isn't anything I can do with it. Right? Or, alternatively, should I be thinking about it differently? Should I hide it away or put that plate in the center of the table and celebrate it? Perhaps I should study it to learn what changes need to be made in my technique and learn to improve my glazing ability. Perhaps I should even learn to love the imperfection and accept it as part of the beauty of a piece.


So what do we do with our imperfect faith? The parishioner I was talking to about joining Vestry did join. She realized what I'm beginning to realize about my pottery. We don't necessarily need to hide away our fears and doubts. When we show them, and discuss them in groups we have the opportunity to grow and develop in faith and community. When I was in the ordination process a professor once told me that being a priest is, in part, struggling with your faith publicly. I think we all have the opportunity to do this in the community of a church. If we squirrel our doubts to the back of a shelf we will never move beyond them. We must provide forums in church to discuss our doubts so we can grow in faith and service to God and community.