I am a potter. Many years ago, when I left Rabbinical School, I realized I needed to learn something as an adult, to have a firsthand understanding of how the process of learning a new skill works for people who are proficient in many areas and not so accomplished in the area that I would be teaching. It is very different to learn a new skill as an older person, and I felt the need to challenge myself in order to serve the community in a better way. There were many things I could learn, but I always felt a connection to pottery. I loved looking at clay pots in craft fairs, pieces that filled me with awe, wonder and curiosity. Pottery was the new skill I chose.
Pottery is a humbling craft. There are so many steps to get to a finished pot that someone just starting with clay might feel intimidated just hearing of all the abilities that one must develop. Pottery is also a highly spiritual pursuit. As we connect with the clay we are reminded that, according to the Torah, this is the material from which we are made.
We read in the Book of Genesis (2:7): “The Eternal God formed Adam from the dust of the earth (Adamah). God blew into its nostrils the breath of life, and Adam became a living being.”
Dr. Nahum Sarna, in the JPS Torah Commentary, writes: “Nothing was said in Genesis 1:27 of the substance from which humans were created. Here it is given as “dust,” a word that can be used synonymously with “clay.” The verb “formed” (Hebrew va-yitser) is frequently used of the action of a potter (yiotser), so that the human’s creation is portrayed in terms of God molding the clayey soil into shape and then animating it.”
The Book of Genesis understands the way in which our lives mirror the process of working with clay. In the next few weeks I will take a piece of the process of creating pottery vessels and share with you how I connect this craft with my spiritual life. I will start today with the initial step in making a pot: wedging the clay. In truth the process begins with the extraction of the clay from the earth and its mixing with different chemicals to form the clay body needed for different applications. I do not mix my own clay, so I will start from the moment when I pick a new bag of clay at the studio.
I take the clay from the bag, and I wedge it. Wedging is a specific way of kneading the clay to tighten it and eliminate air pockets. There are many ways of wedging, and each potter will develop their best way to create a tight working surface. I use my left hand to turn the clay in small increments, and push the clay with the heel of my right hand, in a repetitive motion that requires focus and concentration. I know I have to eliminate these air pockets because everything else in the process will fail if this step is not done correctly, including the potential for the piece to explode in the kiln, destroying all the other potters’ pieces in the process. The starting step of the pottery making process alludes to the fact that the human body may not have water or air or food in places that are not meant to receive these substances, and it is made of an interesting balance of openings and closings that work in harmony for us to be alive.
There is a blessing in Judaism that is said after one goes to the bathroom, known as Asher Yatzar. It says: “You are the Source of Blessing, Eternal, our God, Sovereign of the universe, who formed humans with wisdom and created within them openings and hollows. It is known that if one of them were ruptured, or if one of them were blocked, it would be impossible to exist and stand in Your presence. You are the Source of Blessing, Eternal, who heals all flesh and performs wonders.” I love this blessing because it states in simple terms a truth that cannot be forgotten—the human body is not to be taken for granted.
The simple act of wedging clay reminds me of the wonder that is the human body, and the gift of life that I am given every day. The rhythm of the movement aligns with the rhythm of my breath, and I am grateful for the opportunity to take away an air pocket that will not be helpful and take in my lungs the air that keeps me alive. Openings and hollows, says the blessing, and we, who are connected to the clay, know how miraculous it is to experience the right thing at the right time.