8 And now, O Jehovah, thou [art] our Father, We [are] the clay, and Thou our Framer, And the work of Thy hand -- all of us.
20 And in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and of silver, but also of wood and of earth, and some to honour, and some to dishonour:
21 if, then, any one may cleanse himself from these, he shall be a vessel to honour, sanctified and profitable to the master -- to every good work having been prepared,
7 And we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us;
16 Your perversion! as clay is the potter esteemed? That the work saith of its maker, He hath not made me? And the framed thing said of its framer, He did not understand?
34 Howl, ye shepherds, and cry, And roll yourselves, ye honourable of the flock, For full have been your days, For slaughtering, and [for] your scatterings, And ye have fallen as a desirable vessel.
20 nay, but, O man, who art thou that art answering again to God? shall the thing formed say to Him who did form [it], Why me didst thou make thus?
21 hath not the potter authority over the clay, out of the same lump to make the one vessel to honour, and the one to dishonour?
1 The word that hath been unto Jeremiah from Jehovah, saying,
2 Rise, and thou hast gone down [to] the potters house, and there I cause thee to hear My words;
3 and I go down [to] the potters house, and lo, he is doing a work on the stones,
4 and marred is the vessel that he is making, as clay in the hand of the potter, and he hath turned and he maketh it another vessel, as it was right in the eyes of the potter to make.
5 And there is a word of Jehovah to me, saying:
6 As this potter am I not able to do to you? O house of Israel, an affirmation of Jehovah. Lo, as clay in the hand of the potter, So [are] ye in My hand, O house of Israel.
23 Silver of dross spread over potsherd, [Are] burning lips and an evil heart.
8 Thy hands have taken pains about me, And they make me together round about, And Thou swallowest me up!
9 Remember, I pray Thee, That as clay Thou hast made me, And unto dust Thou dost bring me back.
2 The precious sons of Zion, Who are comparable with fine gold, How have they been reckoned earthen bottles, Work of the hands of a potter.
9 Wo [to] him who is striving with his Former, (A potsherd with potsherds of the ground!) Doth clay say to its Framer, What dost thou? And thy work, He hath no hands?