The Chosen Vessel

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 lustre will outshine the rest
And for Someone like You, Master, gold would be best!”

The Master passed on with no word at all;
He looked at the 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 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,” called the goblet of crystal so clear.
“My transparency shows my contents so clear.
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 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 – please, no bread!”

Then the Master looked down and saw a vessel of clay
Empty and broken it helplessly lay.
No hope had that vessel that the Master might choose
To mend and cleanse – make it all His to use.

“Ah! This is the vessel I’ve been hoping to find,
I will mend it and use it – and make it all mine!”
“I need not the vessel with pride of itself;
Nor the one so narrow who sits on the shelf.

Not the one who is big mouthed and shallow and loud;
Nor the one that displays its contents so proud.
Not the one who thinks he can do all things just right –
But this plain earthen vessel, filled with My Power and Might.”

Then gently 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.
You pour out to others – and I’ll pour in to you!”

Author Unknown