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The Piyutim we include as part of our Tefilot on Yamim Nora’im can help us hone in on the themes and Kavanot for each Yom Tov. One of the iconic Ashkenazic Piyutim of Yom Kippur is “Ki Hinei KaChomer,” recited by many Ashkenazim on Kol Nidrei night. This Tefilah beautifully describes our relationship with HaKadosh Baruch Hu through a series of similes. The opening stanza says, “Like the clay in the hand of the potter, he expands it at will and contracts it at will, so are we in Your hand, O Preserver of kindness, look to the covenant and ignore the accuser.” The simple meaning of these words seems to be that Hashem holds complete control over us, like a potter molding clay. We complete each stanza by recalling our eternal covenant with Him and pleading that He judge us favorably in its merit, rather than heeding the influence of our accusers.
Interestingly, the comparison of “Chomer BiYad HaYotzer, clay in the hand of the potter,” could be more than poetic imagery. The similes from the Piyut present us with different illustrations of the same idea to demonstrate an unfolding dynamic between Hashem and us. We see stone in the hand of a stonecutter, an anchor in the hand of a sailor, glass in the hand of a glass blower, as well as others; all visuals employed by the author to bring abstract ideas into focus. Yet, unlike the other characters, the potter from the first stanza may in fact describe a real potter. Beyond the idea or the image of a potter, “Ki Hinei KaChomer” is likely drawing our attention to the story of one specific potter.
In Perek Yud-Chet of Sefer Yirmiyahu, Hashem instructed the Navi to observe a certain craftsman in his workshop. When Yirmiyahu arrived, he saw a simple potter sitting at his carving wheel. One can imagine his concentration and focus as he worked the round stones, patiently and meticulously shaping raw clay into a vessel. Suddenly, the potter made a mistake. Perhaps he tightened his grip at the wrong moment, or maybe he applied too much pressure on a soft area? As Yirmiyahu watched, the delicate clay vessel broke apart in the potter’s hands. All of his efforts fell to ruin. The beautiful piece of artwork he saw in his mind’s eye would never take form in reality. And despite his moment of failure, the potter started over. Yirmiyahu observed this potter pick up the very same pieces of clay from his first vessel and begin fashioning them into a new one. (Yirmiyahu, 18:1-4)
At that moment, Hashem spoke to Yirmiyahu: “Can I not do to you, O House of Israel, what this potter does? – the word of Hashem. Behold, just as clay is in the hands of the potter, so are you in My hand, O House of Israel.” (Yirmiyahu, 18:5-6). HaKadosh Baruch Hu goes on to explain that He might have one design in His mind for the Jewish people when they sin, but if the nation repents, He can change that first decree and shape it into a new one. Just like the potter is in complete control of the clay, adapting its form at will, so too Hashem tells Yirmiyahu that He will change our Gizar Din if we do Teshuvah. (Yirmiyahu, 18:7-11) Clearly, the theme and the words of “Ki Hinei KaChomer” are drawn from this exchange. Hashem wanted Yirmiyahu to hear this message and pointed him toward the original visual aid from our Piyut, “HaKaYotzer HaZeh,” we are like clay in the hands of “this potter.”
It is encouraging that Hashem identified Himself as the potter in this narrative. How did the potter react when his vessel broke? The Pasuk says, “ViShav VaYa’Aseihu Kli Acher, Ka’asher Yashar Be’Einei HaYotzer La’asot,” “He went back and made another vessel, as was fitting in His eyes to do.” The potter does not sink into despair or fly into a fit of rage. Similarly, Hashem does not give up on us when we sin, and He does not immediately bring His anger upon us. Rather, we are like clay in his hands. “ViShav,” there must be Teshuva, and that process is “Yashar” in the eyes of our Creator. The potter knows that his raw clay is a work in progress, and if mistakes are made along the way then the proper approach is to try again. Ultimately, Hashem wants us to become a “Kli Acher,” and He will use the very same clay when crafting His new vessel. The Yotzer knows that the Chomer itself is not flawed, it just needs work.
It is noteworthy that the words “Chomer Beyad HaYotzer” appear one other time in the narrative, before Hashem compared His role to the potter’s and ours to the clay. At the moment of the potter’s error, the Pasuk says, “VaNishchat HaKli Asher Hu Oseh BaChomer BeYad HaYotzer,” “the clay vessel that the potter was making broke in his hands.” (Yirmiyahu, 18:4) Initially, our three key words do not appear connected. The grammar and Ta’amei HaMikra both indicate that the word “BaChomer,” “with clay,” describes the potter’s work, a vessel he made out of clay, whereas the words “BeYad HaYotzer,”“in the potter’s hand,” tell us where the vessel broke. The Pasuk would make sense without the middle four words, simply stating “VaNishchat HaKli BeYad HaYotzer” “the vessel broke in the potter’s hand.” The words “Asher Hu Oseh BaChomer” feel redundant from that perspective. Why do we need a reminder that the potter was working with clay?
One homiletic resolution to this seeming interruption would be to read the words “Chomer BeYad HaYotzer” as a single clause describing the clay itself. What did the potter use to form this particular vessel? Where did this Chomer come from? Perhaps the clay was BeYad HaYotzer, literally in the hand of the potter. Any artisan “HaKaYotzer HaZeh,” we are like clay in the hands of “this potter.”
It is encouraging that Hashem identified Himself as the potter in this narrative. How did the potter react when his vessel broke? The Pasuk says, “ViShav VaYa’Aseihu Kli Acher, Ka’asher Yashar Be’Einei HaYotzer La’asot,” “He went back and made another vessel, as was fitting in His eyes to do.” The potter does not sink into despair or fly into a fit of rage. Similarly, Hashem does not give up on us when we sin, and He does not immediately bring His anger upon us. Rather, we are like clay in his hands. “ViShav,” there must be Teshuva, and that process is “Yashar” in the eyes of our Creator. The potter knows that his raw clay is a work in progress, and if mistakes are made along the way then the proper approach is to try again. Ultimately, Hashem wants us to become a “Kli Acher,” and He will use the very same clay when crafting His new vessel. The Yotzer knows that the Chomer itself is not flawed, it just needs work.
It is noteworthy that the words “Chomer Beyad HaYotzer” appear one other time in the narrative, before Hashem compared His role to the potter’s and ours to the clay. At the moment of the potter’s error, the Pasuk says, “VaNishchat HaKli Asher Hu Oseh BaChomer BeYad HaYotzer,” “the clay vessel that the potter was making broke in his hands.” (Yirmiyahu, 18:4) Initially, our three key words do not appear connected. The grammar and Ta’amei HaMikra both indicate that the word “BaChomer,” “with clay,” describes the potter’s work, a vessel he made out of clay, whereas the words “BeYad HaYotzer,”“in the potter’s hand,” tell us where the vessel broke. The Pasuk would make sense without the middle four words, simply stating “VaNishchat HaKli BeYad HaYotzer” “the vessel broke in the potter’s hand.” The words “Asher Hu Oseh BaChomer” feel redundant from that perspective. Why do we need a reminder that the potter was working with clay?
One homiletic resolution to this seeming interruption would be to read the words “Chomer BeYad HaYotzer” as a single clause describing the clay itself. What did the potter use to form this particular vessel? Where did this Chomer come from? Perhaps the clay was BeYad HaYotzer, literally in the hand of the potter. Any artisan “HaKaYotzer HaZeh,” we are like clay in the hands of “this potter.”
It is encouraging that Hashem identified Himself as the potter in this narrative. How did the potter react when his vessel broke? The Pasuk says, “ViShav VaYa’Aseihu Kli Acher, Ka’asher Yashar Be’Einei HaYotzer La’asot,” “He went back and made another vessel, as was fitting in His eyes to do.” The potter does not sink into despair or fly into a fit of rage. Similarly, Hashem does not give up on us when we sin, and He does not immediately bring His anger upon us. Rather, we are like clay in his hands. “ViShav,” there must be Teshuva, and that process is “Yashar” in the eyes of our Creator. The potter knows that his raw clay is a work in progress, and if mistakes are made along the way then the proper approach is to try again. Ultimately, Hashem wants us to become a “Kli Acher,” and He will use the very same clay when crafting His new vessel. The Yotzer knows that the Chomer itself is not flawed, it just needs work.
It is noteworthy that the words “Chomer Beyad HaYotzer” appear one other time in the narrative, before Hashem compared His role to the potter’s and ours to the clay. At the moment of the potter’s error, the Pasuk says, “VaNishchat HaKli Asher Hu Oseh BaChomer BeYad HaYotzer,” “the clay vessel that the potter was making broke in his hands.” (Yirmiyahu, 18:4) Initially, our three key words do not appear connected. The grammar and Ta’amei HaMikra both indicate that the word “BaChomer,” “with clay,” describes the potter’s work, a vessel he made out of clay, whereas the words “BeYad HaYotzer,”“in the potter’s hand,” tell us where the vessel broke. The Pasuk would make sense without the middle four words, simply stating “VaNishchat HaKli BeYad HaYotzer” “the vessel broke in the potter’s hand.” The words “Asher Hu Oseh BaChomer” feel redundant from that perspective. Why do we need a reminder that the potter was working with clay?
One homiletic resolution to this seeming interruption would be to read the words “Chomer BeYad HaYotzer” as a single clause describing the clay itself. What did the potter use to form this particular vessel? Where did this Chomer come from? Perhaps the clay was BeYad HaYotzer, literally in the hand of the potter. Any artisan dedicated to his craft will easily find remnants from his latest project upon his clothing or his hands. One can often observe flecks of Chomer in the creases of an artist’s palm, crusted underneath each of his fingernails, coating his knuckles, or wedged deep in between his fingers. Even after washing, the skin of a potter’s hand may be calloused in some areas and smooth in others, as well as discolored from hours of working the earthy clay at his carving stone.
From this reading, the Pasuk is no longer redundant. We knew that the potter worked with clay, but here Yirmiyahu caught a glimpse of the potter working on his own special project. This vessel was not like the others in his shop. The Chomer he used this time had a unique quality, a familiarity and closeness that came from his own personal touch. This was “the vessel he was making out of clay from the potter’s hand,” essentially an extension of the potter himself. The potter could have washed it all off and started a new project with fresh clay, but such a vessel would not have been as precious. It would not be marked by the potter’s passion, carry the texture of his skin, nor the warmth of his body. Even when the vessel broke, the potter would not give up on this Chomer. He treasured the clay from his own hand, and the vessel it would create was a labor of love.
Perhaps this could be another understanding of our Piyut. We remind Hashem of His words to Yirmiyahu, “Just like the clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in My hand, Beit Yisrael.” (Yirmiyahu, 18:6). Which potter was Hashem talking about? The one who sees the clay from his own hand and refuses to discard it. The one who believes that this clay can become a beautiful vessel, as a reflection of its Creator. The one who responds to setbacks with love. We stand on Yom Kippur and tell Hashem that He is right about us. “Kein Anachnu BeYadcha,” “so are we in Your hand.”