Wedgwood's Hammer and the Potter's Second Chance

In 1769, Josiah Wedgwood limped through his pottery works in Burslem, Staffordshire, leaning on his wooden leg, inspecting every piece that came off the wheels. When he found a vessel with a flaw — a crooked rim, an uneven glaze, a lopsided form — he brought his cane down hard, smashing it on the workbench. Chalk-scrawled on the shattered remains were the words: "This will not do for Josiah Wedgwood."

But here is what most people forget. Wedgwood never discarded the clay. Every broken piece was swept up, soaked in water, wedged and kneaded by his workers' hands, and returned to the wheel. The same clay that failed as a teacup might emerge as a masterpiece vase. The flaw was never in the material — it was in the forming. And Wedgwood, the master potter, always believed the clay deserved another chance on the wheel.

When Jeremiah walked down to the potter's house in Jerusalem, he watched the same ancient process. The vessel was "marred in the hand of the potter," so the craftsman simply pressed it down and began again, shaping it "as seemed good to the potter to make it." God was not threatening Israel with destruction. He was declaring something far more hopeful — that the Almighty refuses to throw away His people. He breaks only to reshape. He presses down only to build up again.

The wheel is still turning. The Potter's hands have not withdrawn.