Kedo Peseyie
In a small hut where a potter made his home and workshop, there were always several pots ready for sale, and many others already in use by the household of the potter. Everyone was always busy doing what is required of each one: the potter making pots, the wife cooking, and the pots ever busy storing water, rice and some other pots taking the heat in the fire.
The house was peaceful. Until one day the pots waiting in line to be sold got tired of waiting and started asking unnecessary questions. Maybe it was their idle state that led them to reflect on silly and unconstructive ideas. I don’t really know. Maybe it was because they had enough time to observe other pots and realise that while some have designs, others are plain; and while some are large and tall, others are small and short.
It all started with a small argument when one pot observed that another pot was too large and clumsy and would take up too much space in the kitchen. And it went on and on until it got very serious. By now they are in the advanced stage of their misunderstanding that all of them had already forgotten how the argument actually started and the core issue that started the fight.
Three rival camps emerged among them. They began fighting over everything like their roles, their different sizes and designs, their owners and so on and so forth. One group was led by the pot with flowers designed upon it. The second was led by the pot with colours painted on it. And the third was led by the pot with no design upon it. The first group said “we belong to the flowers” and the second said “we belong to the painter.” The third group said “we belong to the potter.”
When they realised that they could not resolve the issue among themselves, they decided that the best thing to do would be to consult the potter and let him give the final verdict. And so they all went to the potter and each group stated their case asking the potter to settle the matter for them. “Tell us”, they said, “do we belong to the flowers or the painter, or do we belong to you.”
The potter listened to them patiently taking their case seriously at first. Then when they finished he laughed out so loud almost uncontrollably. When he finally finished laughing, he said still smiling and laughing in between his words, “Pots are not supposed to question and reflect over silly things. Pots are only made to do what they are made to do. You don’t belong to any of these or to me. You are all made of mud and you belong to the earth. Your arguments and discussions will not change any of these facts. After all, all of you are only clay… ha ha!”
But they still could not understand. And so the potter decided to give them a very simple but sad illustration that would help them understand better. He told them the story of two churches who were sisters: one in the valley and one upon the hill. The church on the hill said she is higher and therefore better, wiser and more prominent than the one in the valley. “I don’t belong to anybody. I am just me—the church on the hill”. Then the one in the valley said to the church on the hill, “No, I existed before you were formed and so you owe your allegiance to me. You may be higher than me, but you must submit to me because you belong to me. It was me who planted you upon that hill.” I don’t know whether they were able to resolve their conflict but I heard that they fought until they tore down the hill and covered up the valley.
When the potter finished his story, it was the pots’ turn to laugh. They all laughed uncontrollably at the foolishness and stubbornness of the two sisters that for a moment they almost forgot about their own silly arguments and differences. But the potter did not laugh. When they all finally finished laughing, he asked them, “Which one of these two sisters is right?”
All the pots shook their bodies and said, “Of course, none of them! Everybody knows that a church belongs to God because He chose it, He bought it and He works in it and through it. No one can say, ‘This is my church and that is your church. This church belongs to me and that church belongs to you’. At the end it will be consumed back to its Maker to worship and serve its Creator forever and nothing else will matter.”
The potter was happy that his pots were finally talking some sense. He thought they had learned their lesson and would peacefully go back to their room and focus only on their purpose in life and not on some silly argument over ownership, status, pride and vanity. Now he thought that the matter was settled and closed forever. But as he turned to go back to his work the pots again retorted, “But what about us? You haven’t solved our problem yet.”
He didn’t know whether he should cry or laugh or get angry. He decided not to look back and simply walked away. Just as we humans know that a pot is just a pot and is not meant to do more than its purpose (like reflecting over silly things), I have a feeling that the pot understands better than us that a church is a Divine institution and is not meant for us humans to be fighting over.
As he walked back to his work he was thinking to himself, “Why is it so difficult to see one’s own blemishes and prejudices? The pot, after it has served its purpose, will go back to being clay. Nothing more. And the church is made to reflect its Creator and fulfil His plans. There may be many churches but all have one purpose. This understanding should have been enough to solve many of our problems. But alas, they are not enough. Many of us will not rest until all our personal vendettas are satisfied and our pride and prejudices are justified and quenched. We are like the pot who could clearly see the truth about someone and was even willing to prescribe the course of action for him, but could not see the falsehood in himself and hence did not know what he should do with his own blindness.”
