The Old Monk and the Broken Vase

Trusting the master potter to put back the pieces of our lives in a new, imaginative way.

In our meditation this week on mercy, I thought we might close with a story of an old monk and a broken vase.

In a certain kingdom there was an emperor who had a beautiful, ancient vase that was a work of exquisite art. But one day someone accidentally tipped it over and the vase broke into a thousand pieces. The best potter in the land was called to the palace. He gathered up all the pieces and reassembled the vase, but he failed in the emperor’s eyes, for which he lost his head. Another potter was summoned to the palace, who also failed and paid with his life, and another and another until finally there were no more artisans in the land.

Finally, the emperor called upon an artist, an old monk who lived in a cave out in the mountains. He had an apprentice. Together they came to the palace and collected the fragments of the vase. For weeks the old monk worked on the delicate project, until finally he was finished. He brought the vase to the palace, and the king and all his courtiers beamed with joy and satisfaction. The monk was handsomely rewarded and went back to his cave.

Many months later, the apprentice was searching for something and happened upon a box with fragments of the emperor’s vase. He ran to the monk and said, “Master, I found these pieces. You never used them all! How could you put the vase back together so exquisitely?” The old man said, “If you do the work that you do from a loving heart, then you will always be able to make something beautiful.”

This, for me, is a story of deep mercy. All of us end up with a broken vase, the exquisite work of art that was our life, now lying in pieces. Our immediate instinct is to put the thing back together “perfectly”—every piece painstakingly restored to its original place, and every joint and seam fitted so tightly that the thing looks exactly like it looked before the fall. I have tried gluing my life together like that many times, and maybe you have too. It's an exercise in futility, but worse—it’s a rejection of growth and grace. We don’t want to change and we don’t need any help: we can fix this ourselves.

We cannot “put things back together again,” but our fragments can be re-imagined by a greater power. For that to happen, we must bow our heads and accept the mercy of the master potter, who will not put us back together in the way we insist, who will let some of our pieces go because they don’t fit us anymore, who will not hide our cracks and airbrush the finished work of art. After all, the risen Christ appeared with five wounds. He was trying to show us how to take our broken pieces and turn them into glory.

Next Reflection coming: Palm Sunday and “Dust, Arise”

Be Still and Know
Seven Summons for Lent

Stop Week One
Look Within Week Two
Turn, Turn Week Three
Go Wild Week Four
Be Still Week Five
Love Mercy Week Six
Dust, Arise Week Seven