No one should be surprised, though of course it makes no sense, when unbelievers complain about God’s judgment. Romans 1 tells us that they know God is, they know He is almighty, and they know they are in for it. It’s the last two that grates at them. If He’s so powerful, and He is, then why does He still find fault? And He does. Paul’s non-answer in Romans 9 is familiar to us, “Shall the clay say to the Potter, why have You made me thus?” God is God, and we are not.
The surprise comes when I find that I, a believer, complain about God’s pottering of me. Unlike the unbeliever, by His grace He is making me a vessel for mercy. That, most assuredly is not where my complaints lie. To get at my beef we need to perform a smidge of grammar. I promise this won’t hurt.
“Made this way” has two distinct, albeit related meanings. So far we have considered one of those meanings. We are asking why we are being made into the things we are being made into. When the unbeliever asks, “Why have You made me thus?” he is asking God why the unbeliever is being formed into a vessel fit for destruction. When the believer is not complaining, we are thanking God that His end design for us is to be vessels of mercy. “Made this way,” however, can also refer not just to the end, but to the means. I’m delighted God is making me a vessel for mercy. What I hate is the way He is doing it.
God’s way in shaping me is to squeeze me with His powerful hands. His way is to spin my on His wheel. His way is to soften me by burying me in water, and to harden me by baking me in the raging fire of the kiln. I want the mercy. I want to be made into a work of art, something beautiful and honorable. What I don’t want, what I don’t trust, is how He is getting me there. Every time I grumble against the Lord, in times of hardship I am joining the chorus of unbelievers in asking, “Why are You making me thus?” I’m accusing Him of being sloppy in His work, of not knowing the best path to get me where I am going.
This thing made should never say to the One who makes me, “Why?” My calling and duty is to trust, to rest, to believe that He is both, in the midst of all my hardships, making manifest His glory, and bringing to pass my good. His hand, matter how heavy, is always a good hand. His fire, no matter how painful, is always a good fire. The Good Shepherd is the Good Potter. May He teach me to trust Him as I trust Him to teach me.