The Vessel 

The Master was seeking a vessel to use

With so many before Him, which would He choose?

Tall ones and short ones, thin ones and stout;

Shiny and polished ….gleaming without.

“Take me” cried the gold one, “I’m sure you can see;

Of all of the vessels, the best one is me.”

“My luster is gorgeous; I outshine all the rest;

Surely, dear Master, for you gold is best!”

But, the Master passed on, spoke no word at all

To look at a vessel that was slender and tall.

The lines were so graceful, yet simple and true;

But this vessel of silver just wouldn't do.

He came to a vessel that was made out of brass.

Well made, but shallow and  polished like glass;

It was clearly quite evident that for all of its luster,

This gleaming vessel would never pass muster.

Then, He came to where a great vessel stood,

Solid, majestic… hand carved from fine wood;

“Oh, give me a try” was this vessel’s request,

But the Master knew it would not pass the test.

Then, there before the Master, it lay on the floor,

A broken clay pot of value no more;

“Oh, this is the vessel I want to make mine,

One I can mend and thus make it divine.”

“For I don’t need a vessel with pride in itself

Or one made of silver to sit on my shelf;

Nor one that is polished, nor one that is fine,

I need a vessel that I can call mine!”

So gently He lifted that vessel so broken

And with His kind words, so tenderly spoken;

He mended and cleansed that broken vessel of clay

And lovingly filled it with His Spirit that day.

Then He said to the vessel, “There’s so much to do,”

“Just pour out to others as I pour into you.”

“For though you were broken, you’re the vessel I choose”

“Now and forever … You’ll be the vessel I use.”

W. PATRICK QUEEN

JUNE 2001