“Bible places: the Potter’s Shed”
II Corinthians 4:7
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus.
East of the city of Jerusalem, not far from the Dead Sea, the mountainous landscape plummets four thousand feet to the lowest point on earth. It’s where David once hid from King Saul, and where Jesus was tempted by Satan.
It’s also a place where, for thousands of years, secrets lay buried in the sand.
As the story goes, a shepherd from a local tribe left his flock of sheep and goats in search of a stray. And along the crumbling limestone cliffs that line the northwestern rim of the Dead Sea, near a place called Qumran, he found a cave deep in a crevice of a steep, rocky hillside. Curious as to what might lie inside, he threw a stone into the dark, only to be surprised at the sound of breaking pots. When he stepped into the cave to further investigate, he found a mysterious collection of large clay jars, most of which were empty, though some were still intact. When he opened them, he found ancient scrolls, wrapped in linen, blackened with age.
When he brought them to an antiquities dealer in Bethlehem, the dealer sent him back to find some more. To his delight, he did find more--seven in all. Not realizing just how much they were worth, he sold three of the scrolls, in today’s money, for a little over $300.
But just as soon as word got out, a professor at Hebrew University in Jerusalem, Eliezer Sukenik, examined them and recognized their ancient writing.
Later he would write in his diary, “My hands shook as I started to unwrap one of them. I read a few sentences. It was written in beautiful Biblical Hebrew. The language was like that of the Psalms, but the text was unknown to me. I looked and looked, and I suddenly had the feeling that I was privileged by destiny to gaze upon a Hebrew scroll which had not been read for more than two thousand years.”
And so the Dead Sea scrolls became one of the greatest archaeological discoveries of all time.
But in the words of today’s epistle reading, II Corinthians chapter 4, the apostle Paul speaks of a treasure far more valuable than any ancient scrolls ever could be.
Please turn in your Bible to page 1227, as I read the words of our text. I’ll start at the top of the page, where it says, “The Light of the Gospel.” II Corinthians chapter 4, verse 1: “Therefore, having this ministry by the mercy of God, we do not lose heart. But we have renounced disgraceful, underhanded ways. We refuse to practice cunning or to tamper with God’s word, but by the open statement of the truth we would commend ourselves to everyone’s conscience in the sight of God. And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake. For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.”
So now what? What about this gospel of the glory of Christ?
Paul continues in verse 7: “But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you.”
The story is told of a church that was in process of calling a new pastor. And the process had gotten so long and drawn out, that one of the members decided he had had enough. So at their next meeting, he stood up and read a letter he said he had received from another applicant.
This is what it said: “Gentlemen, understanding your pulpit is vacant, I should like to apply for the position. I have many qualifications. I’ve been a preacher with much success and also have had some success as a writer. Some say I’m a good organizer. I’ve been a leader most places I’ve been.
“I’m over fifty years of age, and have never preached in one place for more than three years. In some places, I’ve left town because my work caused riots and disturbances. I must admit that I’ve been in jail three or four times, but not because of any real wrongdoing.
“My health is not too good, though I still accomplish a great deal. The churches I’ve preached in have been small, though located in several large cities.
“I’ve not gotten along well with religious leaders in the towns where I’ve preached. In fact, some have threatened me, and even physically attacked me. And I’m not too good at keeping records. I’ve been known to forget the ones I baptized.
“However, if you can use me, I promise to do my very best for you.”
And as the man folded the letter, and laid it back down on the table, he looked across the room and said, “Well, what do you think? Should we call him?”
The others were appalled. Call a sickly, troublemaking, absent-minded jailbird? Are you crazy?
They said, “Who signed that application? Who would have that kind of nerve?”
Then the man smiled and said, “It’s signed, ‘The apostle Paul.’”
“We have this treasure in jars of clay,” he said, “to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.”
“Jars of clay,” he said. Not marble, not ivory, not copper, silver or gold. Fragile, hollow, disposable, easily broken. Baked clay, he says. “That’s what I am--dirt baked hard.”
It’s funny if you think about it. When God chose to communicate His message, He didn’t go to the elite of Egypt, Greece, Rome, or even Israel. Instead, He went to the shores of Galilee and found a bunch of fishermen.
Who would have thought? He passed by Herodotus the historian, Socrates the philosopher, Hippocrates the father of medicine, and Plato the philosopher. He passed by Euclid the mathematician, Archimedes the father of mechanics. He passed by Hipparchus the astronomer, Cicero the orator, and Virgil the poet.
And of all people, He chose what some would say was a short, hunchbacked Jew, full of fears and failings. And He put in that little clay pot a treasure.
Why? As he wrote in verse 7: “To show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.”
Is it any surprise? It shouldn’t be. God’s in the business of calling the ones the world would call losers.
Noah got drunk. Abraham lied about his wife. Sarah laughed. Jacob deceived. Moses murdered. Rahab was a harlot. Gideon hid in fear. Jephthah made a foolish vow. Samson struggled with lust and anger. David committed adultery and murder. Elijah struggled with depression. Jonah ran away. Peter denied. And James and John begged for seats of honor in the kingdom.
As someone once wrote: “The church is a march of the unqualified.”
And somehow, by His inestimable, unfathomable, incomprehensible, and never-ending grace, He calls us too.
But the treasure we carry inside? Oh, what a treasure! It’s the gospel of the glory of Christ--the good news of sins forgiven, hope restored, and hearts made brand new.
And there is no greater treasure than that.
Joni Eareckson Tada was born in October of 1949, the youngest of four daughters. As a girl, she loved to ride horses, hike, play tennis, and swim.
But in July of 1967, when she was only seventeen years old, she dove into the water of Chesapeake Bay, not realizing just how shallow it was. When she hit bottom, she fractured her fourth and fifth vertebrae, paralyzing her from the neck down.
Though many came to visit her as she laid in her hospital bed, she said she felt emotionally numb, desperately alone, and very, very afraid. And filled with thoughts of depression and despair, she begged her friends to slit her wrists or pour pills down her throat--anything to end her misery. She said her hopes were dashed, and her faith was shipwrecked.
That’s when a friend named Steve, also a young teenager, came into her life. And as he sat beside her bed, she cornered him one day and said, “I just don’t get it. If God is supposed to be all loving, and all powerful, then how can this be a demonstration of His love and power? If He’s all powerful, then surely He should have been powerful enough to stop my accident from happening. And if He’s all loving, then how in the world can permanent and lifelong paralysis be a part of His loving plan for my life?”
Then Steve let out a deep sigh and said, “I can’t pretend to sit at your bedside and know why and how...But think about this. When Judas handed over Christ for a mere thirty pieces of silver, when the mob in the streets clamored for His crucifixion, when Roman soldiers spit on Him, slapped Him, and mocked Him, and when Pilate handed down mock justice to gain political popularity, how was any of that God’s will?”
That’s when she realized that God was somehow able to use treason, injustice, murder, and torture for His purpose. The cross was no mistake.
Later, she was able to write: “The weaker I was, the harder I leaned on God. And the harder I leaned on God, the stronger I discovered Him to be. And it never would have happened had He not given me the bruising of the blessing of that wheelchair.”
God isn’t looking for sterling silver tea sets. He’s looking for rough and tumble clay pots--the kind that can be used everyday. He’s looking for the kind of pots that don’t need to be tucked away in a china closet, but can be sent out into a crash-bang world, carrying within them the life of Christ.
And the church was never meant to be a china cabinet, where precious pieces could be safely stowed out of harm’s way. The church was meant to be a working kitchen, where well-worn pots are filled again and again to dispense their life-giving contents to a thirsty world.
So when a believer loses his job in a tough economy, but responds with trust and perseverance, the life of Christ seeps through. When a Christ-follower finds herself flat on her back in a hospital bed, uncomfortable and uncertain, yet blesses those around her with grace and faith, the life of Christ spills out. When friends and family celebrate a person’s life and sing of the joys of heaven at a Christian funeral, the everlasting life of Christ fills the room with its fragrance.
God’s blessing isn’t found in freedom from pain and hardship. Instead, it’s found in the midst of pain and hardship as we continue to trust, obey, love, and live the life of Christ.
Back in 1907, a woman named Emma Bevan wrote this: “Thus, through earthen vessels only, shining forth in ceaseless grace, reaching weary hearts and lonely, beams the light in Jesus’ face. Vessels, worthless, broken, bearing, through the hungry ages on, riches given with hand unsparing, God’s great gift, His precious Son.”
We thank You, dear Father, for calling even us to bear the good news of Jesus. Help us to be the chosen vessels You’ve called us to be, for Jesus’ sake. Amen