Sermon Text: 2 Corinthians 4:7-15
Date: June 30, 2024
Event: Proper 8, Year B
2 Corinthinthians 4:7-15 (EHV)
We hold this treasure in clay jars to show that its extraordinary power is from God and not from us. 8We are hard pressed on every side, yet not crushed; perplexed, yet not despairing; 9persecuted, yet not forsaken; struck down, yet not destroyed. 10We always carry around in our body the death of the Lord Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11To be sure, while we are living we are continually being handed over to death because of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our mortal flesh. 12So then, death is working in us, but life is working in you.
13Since we have that same spirit of faith, which corresponds to what is written: “I believed; therefore, I have spoken,” we also believe, and therefore we speak. 14For we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus will also raise us with Jesus and bring us (together with you) into his presence. 15In fact, all this is for your benefit, so that as grace increases, it will overflow to the glory of God, as more and more people give thanks.
Where Does Your Power Originate?
If you’ve spent any time with books, movies, or video games in the genres of fantasy or science fiction (or even a blend of the two), you’re probably familiar with the idea of a character who had great, perhaps even untapped power. Maybe the antagonist seems to always have a trick up his sleeve, some hidden power reserve that the hero wasn’t aware of, some backup plan to his backup plan.
Depending on how these things are presented, they can either be suspenseful and intriguing plot developments, or they can be eye-rolling moments that feel like lazy writing to prolong a conflict that should have been resolved already. And it’s not just the antagonist, either. The hero of the story can pull out some power or plan seemingly out of nowhere, and if it wasn’t at least hinted at or foreshadowed in some way, it could feel like something that comes out of left field. Did that magician really have a secret stash of power he wasn’t using until the last possible moment? Did Batman really have even that tool tucked away in his utility belt? How did that warrior find the strength to overcome the forces of evil when he had been essentially left for dead?
The source of strength and power is important because it can determine how beneficial it is. Outside of the realm of fiction, if I put batteries in a flashlight to go out at night, it’s pretty important to know the quality of those batteries, their age, the amount they may have been used beforehand, etc. Going far from home at night with a flashlight with old or depleted batteries is not wise.
When we face challenges in life, we are often taught to look inward and to find our strength internally. Breathe right, eat right, exercise right, think right, and things will be better. And surely, there’s a lot of benefit in those things. But often, if we look inside ourselves for strength to face difficulties in life or to address a guilty conscience, we will be left really, really wanting.
Paul is very aware of that in our Second Reading this morning. Here, in 2 Corinthians chapter 4, he’s reflecting on the difference between the power of the gospel and the difficulties he and his companions have had in their ministries. They have faced opposition from the Jewish people who thought they were traitors to their people, from Gentiles who thought the message of Jesus was insane, from false teachers seeking to undermine the message of the gospel, from government leaders who didn’t care for him, from business owners who thought this message would impact their livelihood. The list goes on and on. Some said that he wasn’t impressive enough, that he wasn’t trustworthy. But still, Paul did not resort to “shameful, underhanded methods” (2 Corinthians 4:2) to spread the gospel. No, he sticks to the message entrusted to him.
In fact, he doesn’t really even defend himself or make an argument for why people should listen to him and not those who were set against him. He doesn’t lash out with a stern retelling of how Jesus specifically called him on that road to Damascus, plucked him out of his pharisaical persecution of Christians, and set him on the path to be his apostle. No, this hand-selected messenger for Jesus doesn’t boast about himself. In fact, how does he describe himself and his fellow gospel ministers? As clay jars.
That’s not complimentary. If you want something to endure and last, you make it out of stone, or metal, or even wood. But clay? Clay is almost temporary, almost disposable.
So why does Paul use such a self-deprecating picture to talk about himself and his coworkers? While his opponents boasted in themselves, in their own flashiness and ability to wow audiences, Paul says that their apparent weakness is actually a strength because it shows where the real power comes from: We hold this treasure in clay jars to show that its extraordinary power is from God and not from us.
Death is the ultimate moment of powerlessness. The dead person can do nothing to help himself, and often, there is precious little those around the person can do to try to intervene and help. I find it difficult to put myself in Jarius’ place in our Gospel without becoming overly anxious. A child at home, sick and near death. And what our Gospel for this morning skipped over is that Jesus was delayed by the crowds from getting to their home. And then, the ultimate heartbreak comes: before they even get to the house, messengers come to let Jairus know that the child has died. Why trouble Jesus anymore? There was nothing anyone could do now.
Or so it seemed. Jesus addressed that fear head-on: “Don’t be afraid. Only believe” (Mark 5:36). In what was the worst possible scenario, Jesus solves it with just a simple command, “Talitha, koum!” “Little girl, get up!” In my mind, Jesus says that with a smile and all the gentleness of a loving adult comforting a child, not so much a command but an invitation. Yet, in that gentle phrase is the power over death itself.
Of course, the power is not in the words, is it? No, I could go to morgues and funerals and cemeteries my entire life speaking those words—even in Aramaic!—and no one would return from death to life. The power is not the words themselves but the one who spoke them. Jesus, who created the universe, has power and command over his creation. We saw it last week as he rebuked the storm on the Sea of Galilee, and it stopped. Here, we see an even more impressive display of his power as he defeats death itself, not just calming some rowdy waters.
Last week, we journeyed with the writer of Psalm 42 through depression. We saw and learned from him how we might combat some of those misguided thoughts and feelings by focusing on God's promises. And here, the apostle Paul gives us a very specific example. Why might God allow trials and hardships in our lives? He has promised that one of the things he will do through those hardships is remind us where our strength truly lies, not in ourselves but in God.
You would expect clay jars that are assaulted and battered around to break. Try dropping a vase from just two feet in the air onto a tile floor; that won’t end well for the pottery. But what happens to the clay jars of Christians, and even gospel ministers, when they are besieged? We are hard pressed on every side, yet not crushed; perplexed, yet not despairing; persecuted, yet not forsaken; struck down, yet not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of the Lord Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. To be sure, while we are living we are continually being handed over to death because of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our mortal flesh.
Paul viewed his sufferings and weakness as a component of preaching Jesus. After all, Jesus didn’t look all that powerful on the cross, did he? And yet the one who calmed storms and raised the dead with a word showed his ultimate power at that cross. Because there, as he hung suspended between heaven and earth, he suffered hell for our sins; there, he defeated sin and Satan for us. And if Jesus’ time with Jairus’ daughter wasn’t enough to demonstrate his power over death, he himself rose from the dead on the third day, proving his victory over every one of our enemies.
And so, what does that mean for us? It means knowing where our power really comes from—not from inside us, but God’s power working in us. For we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus will also raise us with Jesus and bring us (together with you) into his presence. We do not defeat death; we do not rid ourselves of sin. Jesus does that. He has completely rescued us, you and me, who were utterly helpless. Clay jars that we are, we see that we are completely and eternally protected by God’s love for us, which he promised.
Of course, that doesn’t mean that things will always be great in our lives. Things weren’t great for Paul and his companions, but still, he saw God working good through that. In fact, all this is for your benefit, so that as grace increases, it will overflow to the glory of God, as more and more people give thanks. Paul saw his sufferings and hardships as being to God’s glory and to the benefit of sharing the good news of Jesus’ forgiveness. The result is that God would work faith in more people, and then more people would be rejoicing in his forgiveness and eternal life, and they, in turn, would tell others, despite the hardships that might come their way.
Paul revisits this theme later in 2 Corinthians as he talks about his “thorn in the flesh” (2 Corinthians 12:7), which was some ailment, likely physical, that he begged God to take away. But Jesus answered him that the difficulty would not be removed. Jesus explained that this hardship made clear his power and his grace, his love, for Paul: “My grace is sufficient for you, because my power is made perfect in weakness,” to which Paul responded: Therefore I will be glad to boast all the more in my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may shelter me. That is why I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties, for the sake of Christ. For whenever I am weak, then am I strong. (2 Corinithnas 12:9-10).
My dear brothers and sisters, whenever God allows trials in your life that force you to acknowledge your inability to fix them and to see your weakness in stark relief, you have true power. Because that is when you stop relying on your strength, skill, and power and instead fall completely in God’s embracing, loving power for you. Martin Luther is recorded as having once observed, “God both loves and hates our afflictions. He loves them when they provoke us to prayer. He hates them when we are driven to despair by them.”
My dear fellow clay jars, do not let the trials of this life drive you to despair. Remember where your power comes from—from God, and from God alone. We are hard pressed on every side, yet not crushed; perplexed, yet not despairing; persecuted, yet not forsaken; struck down, yet not destroyed.
We may have all sorts of trials here, but those will all end when Jesus brings us home to eternal life with him. And until that day, he stands by our side with his power. The one who raised the dead, and more than that, died and rose, can certainly guide any hardship in your life for your eternal good. That is what he has promised, so that is exactly what will happen. Thanks be to God! Amen.
