Sunday, April 18, 2010

Jars of Clay

2 Corinthians 4:1-12Welcome! This is a special Sunday – following our time here we are going to have a picnic at Twelve-Mile Beach and also have a number of baptisms. I love baptisms. But you know, baptisms are kind of funny things. To children they are simple – they understand that it is simply something you do after you have come to have your own personal faith in Christ; they understand that you do it because Jesus said to do it, and of course you want to do what Jesus says to do. But for many adults they are more complicated; some people have been baptized as infants, before they had faith, and so they don’t quite know what to do when they come to faith.

Adults are also more self-conscious; they think about how they will look, or they don’t like being such a center of attention, although I have to say that very few people mind being the center of attention when it comes to their wedding. Maybe I should leave it to the psychologists to figure out why that is, but I think I know. Baptism for an adult is fundamentally humbling. For an adult to get baptized means that one of two things has happened: Number one, it means that an adult has recently come to faith in Christ. This is humbling because it means they are a new Christian, what some people call a “baby Christian.” To be baptized is to publicly admit this, to admit that you don’t have the spiritual maturity of most of the other people there. To the degree that this bothers such a person, they have to get over it and say, “I don’t care. I just want to be obedient to the Holy Spirit and to my Lord, Jesus, who died to save me.”

Or number two, it means that an adult has been a believer for some time, but for whatever reason, whether being unsure whether they should be baptized again, or through simply never thinking through baptism, or through thinking about it a little but then putting it off, it just hasn’t happened. I personally think it might be even more humbling for such a person to be baptized. They fear that people will think, “You? You’ve never been baptized? After all this time?” And they don’t have a good answer for why this is; but it just is. Once again, to decide to be baptized after this is to say, “I don’t care. I just want to please Jesus. He said repent and be baptized, and I’ve done the first part – I’ve turned to Christ to save me, and so I’m going to do the second part.”

I don’t know if you’ve thought about it, but back when John the Baptist was baptizing people, these people were Jews. And the roots of the baptism ceremony go back to something called the Mikvah. There were sometimes people not born Jewish who came to believe in the Jewish God (the one true God) and desired to become fully a Jew themselves. The Mikvah was the final step in this process. Now John the Baptist didn’t use baptism for this purpose, but as a baptism of repentance for those who were already Jews. I expect that each person who did this felt similar emotions. It was humbling, even embarrassing to do this, for they were publically acknowledging that they had something to repent for. Not only this, but they were using a ceremony that they didn’t need to do – they were already Jews, after all. For them too, they had to come to a place where they could say, “I don’t care. I have turned against God. I don’t care what other people think; I am going to publically go through this ceremony because I simply want to serve my God.”

I share all this to simply say, there’s plenty of water! If you haven’t been baptized as an adult, you are welcome to be a part of this; just let Fred or John or me know after the service, run home and get a swimsuit, and we’ll be happy to baptize you. I’d like to say, “come on in, the water’s warm,” but I kind of doubt that will be true. I can promise that the water will be wet, but not warm.

Anyway, I think the humbling nature of baptism is a very appropriate thing to talk about as we get into today’s passage in 2 Corinthians. Today we are going to look at the first part of Chapter 4, and our message title is “Jars of Clay.” Now if you came today expecting a concert by the music group with the same name, I apologize; they are not here. As we will see, they didn’t invent that name; they picked it because of the scripture we will look at today. Here is how the passage begins:

Therefore, since through God's mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart. Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God. – 2 Corinthians 4:1-2

Going back more than 20 years in this church, there is a bit of a tradition that when you start a message by looking at a passage that begins with the word “Therefore,” you ask, “What is the therefore there for?” This refers back to chapter 3, which we looked at last week.

In chapter 3, Paul makes a powerful comparison between the Old and New Covenants, between Sinai and Calvary. Paul makes this comparison because there were false teachers at Corinth who were trying to get people to go back to seeking salvation through observing the law rather than leaning on the completed work of Christ on the cross. What Paul means by “this ministry” is the ministry of the gospel, the good news, that reconciliation, forgiveness, restoration, growth, and eternal life are freely available to those who entrust their lives to Christ, to those who call out on Jesus to save them, to those who then promise to live for Him, by not their own power, but by the power of the Holy Spirit.

What Paul says in this chapter is that this ministry, this process of sharing the gospel with people and helping them to grow in faith and live lives together in agape love, this ministry is glorious! Paul talks about the glory of the ministry of the Old Covenant, made visible by the fact that Moses’ face would glow after he spent time in the presence of God. But then he says, how much more glorious is the ministry of the New Covenant, because the Law was powerless to save; indeed, it only revealed the depths of sin in every person. But the ministry of the New Covenant brings life, eternal life, and even in this life, we are being transformed into Christ’s likeness, Christ, the one whose veil was His body, and whose inner being shined with a brightness briefly revealed on a mountain when He was transfigured. Our ministry is glorious because as people come to Christ, they too are filled with that same Spirit that was and is in Christ. For us too, our bodies are like veils to an inner glory that is growing and strengthening and making us more and more like Christ.

And so, Paul says, therefore, since through God's mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart. Why would he lose heart? Because, as we have seen in early parts of this letter, as well as in Acts, and in I Corinthians and in others of Paul’s letters, it had not been an easy life for Paul. He had been persecuted by unbelievers, even beaten to within an inch of his life. He had fled for his life multiple times. He had endured all kinds of things, even shipwrecks and snake bites. And as we have seen here in 2 Corinthians, he had also endured rejection by believers he himself helped to bring to Christ. He had spent a year and a half in Corinth, bringing the gospel to this corrupt city and watching God call out a number of people to faith in Christ. He poured out his life into them, helping to establish and build this body. And then, when he left, they fell into all kinds of sin, and they entertained false teachers, and they even believed these teachers when they attacked Paul’s motives, his teachings, and even his love for the Corinthians.

Paul had plenty to lose heart over. But the word in Greek, ekakeo, means more than just getting tired, or weary, or discouraged. The main part of the word, kakeo, means to cause evil; the root, kak, is also found in kakos, which means malice, or wickedness, or corruption. So what Paul is really saying is that because this is God’s glorious ministry, even though so many things have happened to him, he does not turn to doing bad things in return. To quote Fred’s phrase, he continues to take the royal way.

I like how Paul says this glorious ministry is through God’s mercy. I don’t think we think enough like this. Every good thing God gives us is through His mercy. Not just by His grace, but through His mercy. It would be grace just to kill us at the moment we came to Christ, where, from our perspective, we immediately wake up and then get to spend eternity with Him in heaven. But to use us as His primary tools on earth to bring the gospel to people? To let us participate in this glorious ministry? Wow! We certainly have no right to be a part of this; and really, we have no business doing it either. This is God’s mercy – to let those formerly opposed to God be a part of building His kingdom!

And so, Paul says, they do not lose heart, they do not turn to shady methods to have an influence among the people, nor do they seek to profit from the relationship in any way. Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God.

Now, what does that last sentence mean? Recall that the conscience is a God-given gift; it is described in Romans 1 and 2. Paul is saying that by simply presenting the truth without complicating it or embellishing it or changing it in any way, it connects with the conscience of its hearers. They may choose to reject it or accept it, but even when they reject it, deep down there is a part of them that knows it is true. And this is why those who reject it often reject it with such hatred. Paul goes on:

And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. – 2 Corinthians 4:3-4

Since I am one of those people who were saved as an adult, I remember what it was to be blind. I remember hearing the gospel multiple times, on TV, from a friend, in a book, and each time I thought, “so that is what these people believe.” I analyzed it, but only from a distance. I was like the cultural anthropologist coming into a remote tribe to learn the culture of these particular people. I was detached. I was blind. And although I was attracted to these people, because they had a peace and joy and love that I didn’t have, I was also kind of angry. I probably couldn’t have told you why I was angry, exactly, but now I know that something was going on in my God-given conscience. It was something I was trying to silence, but I was having trouble doing that, and it set me on edge.

Why does God do this? Why the blinding? Because you can’t force your way to God. God won’t force Himself on us, and we can’t force ourselves on Him either. God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble. Until I began to read the Bible for myself, until I began to be open to the idea that it might all be true, until I began to be willing to say that, if it was true, I would follow Christ regardless of the inconvenience, or embarrassment, or strife with my family, until I began to actually seek God, I remained blind. But as it says in Matthew 7, "Ask and it will be given to you. Seek, and you will find. Knock, and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives; he who seeks, finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened." The gospel is veiled to those who are perishing, but to those who ask, seek, and knock, the veil is always lifted.

For we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," made His light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. – 2 Corinthians 4:5-6

This refers back to verse 2, where Paul says that he does not use deception or distort the word of God. Here he says that he doesn’t preach the gospel of Paul, but the gospel of Christ, Christ as Lord, meaning that it’s not just about “believing in Jesus;” it’s about letting Jesus sit on the throne of your life, and putting yourself in the position of His humble servant, doing whatever He wants (even if it is embarrassing, like getting baptized), doing whatever He wants you to do for the rest of your life.

And then I love the word picture of verse 6. It reminds me of Isaiah 60:1: Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen on you. And it reminds me of the picture last week of Moses, with his shining face, reflecting the Lord’s glory. But our light, our shining is not on the surface of our skin, but deep in our hearts.

Again, a few little words are very important. Note that Paul is not saying he is Christ’s servant, although of course he is, and he says so multiple other places in Scripture. Here, he says he is the Corinthians’ servant. And in the same way, we don’t just serve Christ, but we serve each other. Serving each other, literally, being slaves to one another, is one important way we serve Christ.

And I am struck that it doesn’t say He gives us the light of the glory of God in Christ, but in the face of Christ. I think of Revelations 22:3-4: "The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and His servants will serve Him. They will see His face, and His name will be on their foreheads." And also I Corinthians 13:12: "Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face." As you know, there is a big difference between talking to someone on the phone and talking to them face to face; we see how they feel about us. We know someone so much better when we talk face to face. And although this is something we only see in part now, this verse says that we yet are given the light of the glory of God in the face of Christ. In Revelations 1:16, that face, the face of Christ, is described as like the sun shining in all its brilliance. That is the light of the glory of God in the face of Christ. That is what is in us!

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. – 2 Corinthians 4:7-9

Jars of clay? Clay pots? What does this mean? Well, what is a clay pot made from? Clay, and what is clay, really? Where is it found? In the dirt! And how do you make a clay pot? You turn the dirt into mud and swish it around until it is a shape you want, and then you throw it in an oven and bake it until it turns hard. In Israel, just like here in South Carolina, you didn’t have to search very hard to find the right kind of dirt. Clay was everywhere. Making clay pots was easy. Clay pots were pretty close to worthless.

In fact, as I have thought about it, a great modern analogy for clay pots is Wal-Mart bags, or grocery store bags. You know, the plastic bags that are, it seems like, a millionth of an inch thick. Clay pots were to ancient Israelites as Wal-Mart bags are to us. Those clay pots were nearly valueless and extremely common; they were everywhere. They broke easily. If a child broke one, nobody would care. Normally they were used for “throwaway” uses, but there were exceptions. The famous Dead Sea scrolls were found in a cave in – yes – clay pots. In fact, the boy who found them found them because he was throwing rocks into the caves and one hit a pot and broke it, and he heard it break. How fitting that such treasures – our most ancient copies of a number of Old Testament books, including the complete book of Isaiah – were in clay pots!

In our smaller wastebaskets we use Wal-Mart bags to hold garbage. Back in our baby diaper days, we used Wal-Mart bags for dirty diapers. Wal-Mart bags were perfect for this – when on the road you could bring some and use one every time you had to change a diaper. Similarly, clay pots were used for anything where you needed an expendable container, including for garbage. Notice how Paul defends himself against his accusers: he doesn’t! By calling himself a clay pot, he is saying that any charges that he is not much to look at, not a powerful speaker, full of weaknesses, Paul says, yup, they’re true! I’m a clay pot, but there is a treasure inside. It takes humility to admit this.

God delights in using clay pots, in using Wal-Mart bags, because when you put a treasure inside, it is clear that the pot is not the treasure. It provides contrast. There is no confusion. This makes me think of what is in I Corinthians 1:20-29: "Where is the wise man? Where is the scholar? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe. Jews demand miraculous signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength. Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before Him." God chooses clay pots to work through, the more coarsely made, the better.

I think too of how God chose to have Christ enter the world – as a baby, the mother a “nobody” teenager, her soon to be husband a poor carpenter. I think of the people the angels appeared to – not kings, but shepherds, one of the humblest professions around. Clay pots. Wal-Mart bags. I think too of the disciples – fishermen? Not nobility? Not priests? Not the great teachers? But fishermen? Clay pots. Wal-Mart bags. Christ chose the time and place of His coming. Even if you fix that He would come about 2000 years ago, why didn’t He come to Herodotus, the one we now call the “father of history” or to Josephus, the great Jewish historian? Why didn’t He come to the great philosophers, like Plato, or Aristotle, or Socrates? Why didn’t He come to the great mathematicians or scientists like Euclid, or Archimedes, or Hippocrates? Paul, it appears, was not much of a public speaker. Why didn’t Jesus come to the great orator Cicero? The disciple Mark, it appears, from the way his gospel uses Greek, was not much of a writer. Why didn’t Jesus come to the poet of poets Virgil? No, He chose, and He chooses clay pots. He chooses Wal-Mart bags.

Look at what Jesus says in Matthew 11:25: "I praise You, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because You have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was Your good pleasure." Listen: we do not need to be embarrassed about our frailties, or our weaknesses, or the things we are not gifted in. It would seem that it isn’t an accident. It would seem that God even has a purpose in it! We are ambassadors for Christ. Most nations pick their most capable, most professional, most skilled people for their ambassadors. Not so with Christ – He chooses clay pots. Rejoice in the clay-pot company we keep! Rejoice in God, who loves and chooses clay pots, who puts his basest pots in the positions of greatest honor!

Paul continues by saying this: We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. If you continue with the clay pot analogy, there is something very strange here. If you press hard enough on a clay pot, it will shatter, crushed; if you strike it down, it will certainly break into many pieces. But we are not just clay pots; we are clay pots with treasure inside. And because of this, even though we are pressed very hard, we don’t become crushed; even when thrown down, we don’t break.

We under-appreciate these words. They are a little too soft in modern English. Hard pressed, in the Greek, means under intense pressure. We talk about the pressures of our lives all the time, but can you imagine the pressures in Paul’s life? I think of the pressures of the president of the United States – heavy decisions, and there are people who want to kill him, but he has the secret service. Paul has nobody, except for God Himself, and yet there were more people who wanted to kill Paul than have ever wanted to kill any president. But Paul was not crushed by this pressure – he endured, he continued the work God gave him to do. Perplexed, in the Greek, doesn’t just mean confused, but at a loss – beyond your ability to figure out or solve. Yet, he was not in despair; he didn’t give up. The Greek for persecuted means pursued, or chased; it was used to describe hunting down an animal. This was Paul. But he was not abandoned, or forsaken; God had not left him! Paul was never alone. The Greek for struck down was used in fighting, even wrestling, when you lost a match. In other words, Paul was attacked, beaten up, and much more – but not destroyed, not killed.

We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that His life may be revealed in our mortal body. So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you. – 2 Corinthians 4:10-12

Here is a shocking statement, but I believe it is true: Jesus was a clay pot! Isaiah 53:2-3 says, "He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to Him, nothing in His appearance that we should desire Him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces He was despised, and we esteemed Him not." Jesus was not especially skillful, or talented, or especially tall, or strong, or good looking. He could have become these things and more in a moment, I am sure, but that was not the will of the Father. Jesus, in His body, realized what we realize, that He had weaknesses, that we have weaknesses. And the more we become those who obey Him, not just in baptism, which is only the beginning, but in being His disciples, performing this amazing, glorious ministry that He has given us to do, the more we will experience the kinds of things He experienced: rejection, disappointment, pressure, ridicule, and even hatred. But as this passage says, this happens so that His life, His zoe, may be revealed in us.

I am fully convinced that the tradeoff, for that is what this is – following Christ means that we get a taste of His death along with a taste of His life – the tradeoff is worth it! Living all out, totally for Christ, obeying Him in everything you learn that He would have a disciple do, is to embark on the greatest, most thrilling, most satisfying, most rewarding thing that a clay pot can do in this life. It is also the most heartbreaking, the most painful, the most stressful, and the most challenging thing you can do. But the tradeoff is worth it! Taste and see that the Lord is good! Experience this life, the life of Jesus, this zoe. "In Him was life, and that life was the light of men." – John 1:4

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