Consider the potter

This past weekend, the tiny church that I attend in this little swath of the Midwest had a special meeting after Sunday’s worship with a member vote. We voted on adopting the following welcoming statement and identity as a church:

Norwalk Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) is an Open and Affirming congregation. Inspired by our love of God and neighbor, we celebrate the diversity of all people and invite all into full participation in the life of our church—every race, ethnicity, LGBTQ+ identity, age, ability, and socioeconomic condition; all refugees and immigrants, physical statuses, mental statuses, neurodiversities, household compositions, and theological and political backgrounds and beliefs. You are God’s beloved, and you are welcome here.

The vote passed with over 95% of the members in attendance saying yes.

Now, I could start to debate on why my church is still Bible-believing even as we accept all members of society into its flock. I could defend my positions with context from the Bible and historical analogies and everything else. But that is not what this post is intended to do. Whether it is any of my stories or this here blog, I write for all people, whether believers or non-believers. While I am Christian, I am NOT a Christian writer (for that pigeon-holes me as a person and a writer). Everyone is dynamic. Everyone is a contrast and even sometimes a confliction of ideas, especially me. And I will be the first to state that.

Rather, this post is a post about being flexible.

Consider the potter.

If anyone has ever watched a potter at all (even the iconic scene in the movie Ghost could be considered), one knows that whatever they throw onto the wheel has to be forced to be changed. A pot won’t form without the forces of hands molding it into place. It can’t be made until the potter chooses to make it. And until it is fired, it is still malleable. It is still able to form something new. It can be added upon.

The above statement my little church adopted was the culmination of almost two years of work by a committee that my other half was a part of. It was a tiny seed that was harbored and carried in the minds of a few even before then. And it took just as long to get to a place where it could be voted upon. People had to be met where they were. Conversations had to happen. And while some left our little church because of these conversations, others came back. Even Sunday, after all was said and done, four people joined because they wanted to be a part of this new chapter.

Change is inevitable. Like the pot on the wheel, we can all be molded and bent, plied into something that hopefully is better, stronger, more like what we should be. Sometimes, this is forced upon us through circumstances beyond our controls. Sometimes, we choose the changes.

My own life is a series of deconstructions and reconstructions, of moments in time when I walked willingly onto the metaphorical potter’s wheel and of times when I was forced to be there. My idealogy is different than it was 20 years ago and yet it keeps changing and growing. I have evolved through trial and error, experiences and ideas, circumstances I have chosen and things that have happened that I could not foresee. The clay I was in childhood is still there, but it has been molded and grafted with everything I have done and learned, been exposed to and have chosen to pay attention to.

Consider the dog Latin phrase Semper Gumby. Always flexible.

As a USMC brat, I remember hearing that term on occasion, since it is often used in the military (and is a play on the phrase Semper Fidelis). Like that claymation Gumby, we can be stretched and changed. We can bend but not hopefully break, whether we choose the changes or have them forced on us. And we can have the trajectory of our own stories changed by what we encounter, creating a legacy of love and faith, hope and peace, joy and light…. and a whole lot of magic.

Consider the potter. Semper Gumby.

Stay magical. Write your own story.

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