“Bible promises: We have this treasure in jars of clay”
II Corinthians 4:7
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus.
Just east of the city of Jerusalem, not far from the Dead Sea, the 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.
You see, back in November of 1946, a shepherd boy named Muhammed edh-Dhib, along with a cousin and a friend, went out in search of a stray goat. And along the limestone cliffs around the rim of the Dead Sea, they discovered a cave high up a steep, rocky hillside. Curious as to what might lie inside, edh-Dhib threw a stone into the dark, only to be surprised to hear pottery breaking. Then when he crawled up and into the cave to take a closer look, he found a mysterious collection of large clay jars, most of which were empty, though some were still intact. When he opened one, he found an ancient scroll, wrapped in linen, blackened with age.
A few weeks later, when he brought one of those scrolls to an antiquities dealer in Bethlehem, a shoemaker named “Kando,” the man sent him back to find some more. And he did find some more--seven in all. But not realizing just how much they were worth, he sold three of them, in today’s money, for just under $400.
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 wrote 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.
So it is in the words of II Corinthians chapter 4. As Paul writes: “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (II Corinthians 4:7)
So far in our time together, we’ve looked at quite a lot of promises of God. Isaiah wrote, “Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool” (Isaiah 1:18). Jeremiah wrote, “The Lord will not cast off forever, but, though He cause grief, He will have compassion according to the abundance of His steadfast love” (Lamentations 3:31-32). Paul wrote, “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28). And Jesus said, “In My Father’s house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for you” (John 14:2).
Look closely enough and you’ll find as many as 8,810 promises from God to man, from man to man, and from man to God.
In the words of Dwight L. Moody, “If you would only read from Genesis to Revelation and see all the promises made by God to Abraham, to Isaac, to Jacob, to the Jews and to the Gentiles, and to all His people everywhere--if you would spend a month feeding on the precious promises of God--you wouldn’t be going about complaining how poor you are. You would lift up your head and proclaim the riches of His Grace, because you couldn’t help doing it!”
Now before we go any further, let’s talk for a moment about the city of Corinth.
Resting on a narrow, four-mile-wide stretch of land, with the Aegean Sea to the east and the Adriatic Sea to the west, Corinth was, in the words of one commentator, a “wild church in a wicked city.” Pagan temples were everywhere you turned, whose priestess prostitutes roamed the streets all around them--definitely not one of the top ten places to raise a family!
And though the people of that church were so very gifted intellectually and economically, there was no church that gave the apostle Paul more headaches than the church in Corinth.
That’s why he couldn’t help but write, “But I, brothers, could not address you as spiritual people, but as people of the flesh, as infants in Christ. I fed you with milk, not solid food, for you were not ready for it. And even now you are still not ready” (I Corinthians 3:1-2).
Yet it was to them that he wrote, “We preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God” (I Corinthians 1:23-24). And he wrote, “Faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love” (I Corinthians 13:13).
Now this letter, his second letter, is different from the first. While his first letter was meant to admonish them as well as encourage them, his second letter wasn’t like that at all. Instead, it’s more of a biography. It’s a personal letter, a glimpse into his apostolic heart.
Up until then, men had mocked him and condemned him. They accused him of being ugly and homely and unimpressive in any way. They called him an imposter and a blasphemer. They said, “Paul’s letters are demanding and forceful, but in person he is weak, and his speeches are worthless!” (II Corinthians 10:10).
And Paul would have been the first to tell them that they were right! Once upon a time, he was violent. He was a blasphemer. He persecuted Christians! And the only reason God ever called him was to show His pure grace and mercy.
No one knew better just how poor and weak he really was, and no one was more surprised that God had called him, than Paul. So he wrote, “Therefore, having this ministry by the mercy of God, we do not lose heart” (II Corinthians 4:1).
Then he wrote, “But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that this surpassingly great power is from God and not from 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” (II Corinthians 4:7-9).
Once there was a church, or so the story goes, that was 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 the very best I can.”
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?”
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 all-surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (II Corinthians 4:7).
“Jars of clay,” he said. Not marble, not ivory, not copper, silver, or gold. Fragile, hollow, disposable, cracked, easily broken. “Baked clay,” he said. “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 call a short, hunch-backed, deformed Jew, full of fears and failings. And He put inside that little clay pot a treasure.
Why? As he wrote in verse 7: “To show that this extraordinarily great power is from God and not from us.”
Is it any surprise? It shouldn’t be. After all, God’s in the business of calling the ones the world would call losers.
Isaiah said, “I am a man with unclean lips!” (Isaiah 6:5). Jeremiah said, “I don’t even know how to speak. I’m only a child” (Jeremiah 1:6). John the Baptist said, “I’m not worthy to even untie His sandals” (John 1:27). Peter said, “Go away from me, for I am a sinful man” (Luke 5:8). And Paul wrote, “This is a trustworthy saying, worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the worst” (I Timothy 1:15).
And somehow, by His inestimable, unfathomable, incomprehensible, and never-ending grace, He called 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 could never be a greater treasure than that.
Born in October of 1949, Joni Eareckson Tada 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 afraid. And filled with thoughts of despair and depression, she begged her friends to slit her wrists or pour pills down her throat--anything to end her misery.
Until one day, a friend named Steve came into her life. And as he sat beside her bed, she cornered him 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 wrote, “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, every day jars of clay.
Why? “To show that the all-surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (II Corinthians 4:7).
We thank You, Father, for the grace You show and the gifts You give. Give us strength that we may find our hope and help in You, for Jesus’ sake. Amen