The Master's Vessel

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The Master was searching for a vessel to use.

On the shelf there 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 just right.

My beauty and luster will outshine the rest,

And for you, Master, gold would be the best.

The Master passed on with no word at all.

He looked at a silver urn, narrow and tall.

I’ll serve you dear Master, I’ll pour out your wine,

And I’ll be at your table whenever you dine,

My lines are so graceful, my carvings so true,

And my silver will always compliment you.

Unheeding, the Master passed on to the brass,

It was 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” cried the goblet of crystal so clear.

“My transparency shows my contents so clear.

Though fragile I am, I will serve you with pride.

And I’m sure I’ll be happy in your home to abide.”

The Master came next to a vessel of wood.

Polished and carved, It solidly stood.

“You may use me dear Master,” the wooden bowl said,

But I’d rather you used 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 will mend and use it and make it all mine.

I need not the vessel with pride of itself.

Nor the one that is narrow to sit on the shelf.

Nor the one that is big mouthed, and shallow and loud.

Nor one who displays his contents so proud.

Nor the one who thinks he can do all things just right.

But this plain earthy vessel filled with my power and might,

Then He lifted the vessel of clay . . . .

Mended 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.

- Author Unknown