THE CHOSEN VESSEL
The Master was searching for a vessel to use,
Before Him were many, which one would He choose?
“Take me”, cried the gold one, “I’m shiny and bright,
I’m of great value and I do things right.
My beauty and lustre will outshine the rest,
And for someone like You, Master, gold would be best.”
The Master passed on with no word at all
And looked at a silver urn, narrow and tall,
“I’ll serve You dear Master, I’ll pour out Your wine
I’ll be on Your table whenever You dine.
My lines are so graceful, my carvings so true,
And silver will always complement You.”
Unheeding the Master passed onto the brass,
Wide-mouthed and shallow and polished like glass.
“Here, here!” cried the vessel “I know I will do
Place me on Your table for all men to view.”
“Look at me” called the goblet of crystal so clear,
“My transparency shows my contents so dear,
Though fragile am I, I will serve You with pride,
And I’m sure I’ll be happy in Your house to abide.”
The Master came next to the vessel of wood,
Polished and carved, it solidly stood.
“You may use me, dear Master,” the wooden bowl said,
“But I’d rather You use me for fruit, not for bread.”
Then the Master looked down and saw a vessel of clay,
Empty and broken, it helplessly lay.
No hope had the vessel that the Master might choose,
To cleanse, and make whole, to fill and to use.
“Ah! This is the vessel I’ve been hoping to find,
I’ll mend it and use it and make it all mine.
I need not the vessel with pride of itself
Nor one that is narrow to sit on the shelf,
Nor one that is big mouthed and shallow and loud,
Nor one that displays his contents so proud,
Nor the one that thinks he can do all things just right,
But this plain, earthly vessel, filled with power and might.”
Then gently He lifted the vessel of clay,
Mended it and cleansed it, and filled it that day.
Spoke to it kindly – “There’s work you must do –
Just pour out to others, as I pour into you.”