Treasure in Jars of Clay

Discussion Questions

1. Read 2 Corinthians 4:7-12 together. What seems most striking to you from this passage? Discuss.

2. What does Paul mean when he says, "We have this treasure in Jars of Clay?" What does that tell us about who we are and what God designed us to do?

3. How should we distinguish in our own lives between weaknesses that should be corrected, and weaknesses that should be embraced?

4. What is one area of weakness in your life right now that you are struggling to embrace?

5. How is Jesus' power and glory displayed through suffering in the Christian life? Can you think of a Christian in your life who you have seen suffer well? What did that look like?

6. How should our suffering as Christians reflect the life and death of Jesus?

7. Living as "Jars of Clay" is a glorious calling, but a hard calling. What truths can help us not lose hope?

Sermon

Many of you in this room are familiar with Charles Spurgeon, the famous 19th-century “Prince of Preachers” and pastor of the Metropolitan Tabernacle in London, England. Over his nearly 40 years pastoring in London, his weekly sermons were distributed through London’s newspapers, selling over 25,000 copies per week and filling 63 volumes, which, in addition to the other works he published, brought his total works published to over 140 books, making him the most prolific author in Christian history. Lesser known, however, was the woman behind the scenes who made all this possible—Charles’ wife, Susannah Spurgeon. What’s most remarkable about Susannah Spurgeon, though, is not what she accomplished or what she helped her husband accomplish, but how she suffered.

Soon after they were married, Charles and Susannah welcomed twin boys into their home. But shortly after their birth, Susannah’s health rapidly declined. Kristin Wetherell, documenting Susannah’s journey picks up the story:

“Chronic pain began to wrack her body,. and it would continue for decades to come. Called “the great sufferer,’ she was often confined to the home and even to her bed; yet, in her pain, amazingly Susie still invested in her family, raised her boys in Scripture, encouraged Charles through his own sufferings, and helped him prepare sermons and projects. (She actually complied one his first books, even though it doesn’t bear her name.)”

What I love about Susannah’s story is how it corrects our often faulty understanding of weakness and suffering in the Christian life. How do we often think of weakness and suffering? As something to overcome and power through; as an obstacle to the “real work” of Christian living. Is that how you are prone to think about the weakness and suffering in your own life? What you’ve been through in the past, or even what you are going through now?

Susannah Spurgeon did not see her suffering as an obstacle to her ministry, but as the work of her ministry. We get a glimpse of her heart in a devotional entry she wrote:

“Anoint me for service, Lord — that, in all that I do for You, either directly or indirectly — there may be manifested the power of the Holy Spirit, and the wholehearted earnestness which He alone can supply!

Anoint me for sacrifice — so that, contrary to my sinful nature, self may be overcome, and bound, and crucified — that Christ alone may reign in my mortal body!

Anoint me for suffering, if so it be Your will — that I may praise You as I pass through the waters and the fires of affliction!”

This morning, as we consider Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 4, my goal is to persuade you from our text that your weakness and your suffering is not an obstacle to pleasing and serving God, but is the very means by which he wants to show his glory through you.

So let’s turn there now—2 Corinthians 4:7-12. You can find this on page 965 in the pew Bibles beneath your seats.

Let’s spend a minute catching up to where we are now in 2 Corinthians 4.

The Church in Corinth had many problems, but one of their biggest problems was their warped perspective on power, prestige, and authority. In this area, it’s clear that the Corinthians were being more formed by the wisdom of the world than the wisdom of God. We went through the letter of 1 Corinthians two years ago as a church, and one of bigger themes that we saw earlier on in that letter was the division in the church over which minister of the gospel they thought was best—the wisest, most eloquent, most influential. The Corinthians formed cliques around their favorite teacher: “I follow Paul,” or “I follow Apollos, or “I follow Cephas,” they said (1 Cor 1:12).

Sadly, their divisions and warped thinking extended further. Later on in 1 Corinthians Paul had to rebuke these Christians for boasting in the spiritual gifts they had received. What the Holy Spirit had given for the building up of others was being used by the Corinthians to build up and puff up themselves. They had a hierarchy in their minds of certain gifts, like prophecy, miracles, and tongues, being superior to what they considered “lesser gifts” like mercy and helping. What it came down to was this—they believed that the best Christians—the ones most effective and most pleasing to God—were those who were strong, unflappable, and devoid of weakness. In other words, they thought a lot like we do today.

Right now, if I were to ask you, “Who do you think has the greater opportunity to advance the gospel: the famous pastor with a million online followers, or the home-bound widow, living in chronic pain, who every morning prays alone in her living room chair,” who would you say? Of course, most of us in this room who have been Christians for any length of time would catch on and say, “God could use both of them,” and that’s true, But do we actually believe that? We might know that that is biblically true, but in practice, we don’t usually live like we actually believe it is true.

But what our text will show us is that the pathway to displaying the surpassing beauty of Christ in our lives does not come from pursuing strength, but embracing weakness. And how this often looks a lot less like conquering, and lot more like dying.

Let's consider at three questions:

1. Who are We?

2. What is the Purpose of our Suffering?

3. Who Does our Suffering Represent?

1. Who are We? (4:7)

V7 “But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.”

A treasure and a vessel. What is this describing? Remember that we are picking up in the middle of 2 Corinthians. So we need to ask, what was Paul writing about before? If you look back up in your Bible to chapter 3, you might see a heading like I have in my Bible. These chapter headings aren’t inspired by God like the actual text of the Bible is, but they are helpful additions to help you quickly get the gist of what a chapter is about. In my ESV Bible, chapter 3’s heading reads, “Ministers of the New Covenant.” In chapter three, Paul contrasts the message of the New Covenant—the message of Christ’s death and resurrection that he has given his life to proclaim—with the Old Covenant symbolized by the 10 Commandments and the system of animal sacrifice that was created to atone for the sins of the Jews in the Old Testament. This Old Covenant, Paul says, was a “ministry of death.” It didn’t have the ability to transform the sinful hearts of God’s people. In fact, that was never it’s intention in the first place.

In fact, Paul refers to it not only as the “ministry of death,” but as a ministry of condemnation.” The purpose of the law was to reveal the depths of the sin in the hearts of God’s people, and to point them to their need for a Redeemer. And yet, for all of this, Paul still says that this ministry of death and condemnation was full of glory. Think back to what these Old Testament Jews would have witnessed:

• the fury of God’s wrath against the Egyptians through the 10 Plagues,

• the unfathomable power of God in parting the Red Sea,

• a cloud guiding them through the wilderness by day, and a pillar of fire by night,

• and the voice of God thundering down from Mt. Sinai as the Law was given to Moses.

The ministry of the Old Covenant, for all it’s wrath and condemnation was glorious. And yet look at what Paul says starting in verse 7 of chapter 3:

“Now if the ministry of death, carved in letters on stone, came with such glory that the Israelites could not gaze at Moses’ face because of its glory, which was being brought to an end, will not the ministry of the Spirit have even more glory? For if there was glory in the ministry of condemnation, the ministry of righteousness must far exceed it in glory. Indeed, in this case, what once had glory has come to have no glory at all, because of the glory that surpasses it. For if what was being brought to an end came with glory, much more will what is permanent have glory.”

The message of the New Covenant, of whom Paul has been made a minister, far exceeds the Old Covenant in glory; this message of lasting peace with God the Father, through the work of Jesus the Son, carried out bythe ministry of the Holy Spirit. This message of salvation is the treasure that Paul is speaking about in our text, 4:7.

Now, what kind of vessel would you expect God to use to house such a glorious treasure? If you had priceless treasure, where would you house it? Perhaps you would display it in something precious and valuable, like a jewelry box made of gold and adorned with jewels? Or maybe you would lock it away in something more practical and durable, like a safe constructed from cast iron. We would expect God to use something fitting for such a treasure. But where does verse 7 tell us the Lord has placed his treasure? In Jars of Clay, or earthen vessels. He seems to do the exact opposite of what any of us would do. He doesn’t pick what is most beautiful, or what is most practical. No, he places this treasure in what many of us would consider least valuable, least beautiful, and least practical. He places his treasure in people like us!

But why? Look with me again at the second half of verse 7:

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.”

The glory of God’s treasure does not diminish because it is placed in something that is common, plain, and weak. No, its glory and beauty is actually heightened by it’s unimpressive home. Why? Because this great disparity makes it abundantly clear what is most impressive and most important—not the vessel, but what the vessel contains.

This is what the Corinthians failed to understand, and one of the reasons why they had such a hard time with Paul. By their worldly standards, Paul was not impressive. He likely had several debilitating physical ailments, he was an unimpressive speaker who lacked charisma and rhetorical power, and he was totally unconcerned by his public reputation. In their estimation, Paul was one of the worst candidates to carry out such a glorious ministry. But they were wrong. Paul’s litany of weaknesses actually provided the best backdrop for the glory of Christ to shine through him.

Consider how a jeweler displays his prized diamond. He places it on top of a black cloth—something plain and inconspicuous. Why? Because the dark cloth, by virtue of it’s color and material, is specifically engineered to not draw attention to itself. It’s purpose is to lead your eye to what it contains—what is most precious.

Friends, I think we are wired (by the influence of the world and by our sin nature) to spend our lives trying to “spruce up the jar.” We agonize over how our bodies look, or how others perceive us as friends, parents, employees, or spouses. We languish to cultivate an image of acceptability and respectability within the world. We may even try to cover up the cracks and imperfections with misdirection, half-truths, and manipulation. We want people to look at us and think, “Wow, what a beautiful jar!”

Brother and sister, you and I were not made to draw attention to ourselves. You and I were made to draw attention to the treasure that we contain. Your plainness, your weakness, your “ordinariness” is not a hindrance to Jesus—it is actually the perfect backdrop to display his power and his glory. This is what you and I were made for! And how freeing would it be if you and I actually let this truth settle in the bottom of our hearts? How much of your life—how much mental and emotional energy—have you spent in service of “sprucing up the jar?” Aren’t you exhausted by this?

So what should we aim for instead? Maybe this feels overly simplistic, but here it is: when other people see us and spend time with us, our aim should be for them to walk away, not saying, “How wonderful they are!” But, “How wonderful Jesus is!” To go back to our metaphor of the diamond and the black fabric, we should constantly be looking at the “fabric” of our lives to determine what is there that is competing with the beauty of the diamond. What “rips” and “stains” are currently occupying the fabric of your life that is detracting from the beauty of Christ? What patterns of sin? Or patterns of self-obsession are drawing the eyes of others toward you and away from the treasure you contain?

Jesus is the treasure, and you are the jar of clay. You were made to draw attention to his power and glory and not your own. But now let’s move to our second point and consider how, in practice, this actually plays out in the life of the Christian. How does the glory of our treasure shine through these jars of clay? 2: What is the Purpose of our Suffering?

2. What is the Purpose of Our Suffering? (4:8-9)

8-9 “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed;”

Paul was no stranger to hardship. Later on in this letter, he gets hyper-specific about the kind of hardships he endured.

2 Corinthians 11:24-29 “Five times I received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked; a night and a day I was adrift at sea; on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brothers; in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure. And, apart from other things, there is the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches. Who is weak, and I am not weak?”

Now you might be thinking, Paul’s hardships as an apostle were unique, and they certainly were. I don’t know that many of us have been shipwrecked even once—let alone three times! Yet while the specifics of Paul’s hardships were unique, the essence of his hardships were not.

Turn with me real quick to the first chapter of 2 Corinthians where he explains the essence of a specific affliction he endured. 2 Corinthians 1:8-9:

“For we do not want you to be unaware, brothers, of the affliction we experienced in Asia. For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death.”

Maybe you haven’t been shipwrecked before, but can you relate to that feeling? Have you ever felt so utterly burdened beyond your strength that you despaired of life itself? I’m guessing that many of you have. Why does God let his people go through that kind of suffering? This is a perennial question that saints throughout the Bible like Job and David anguished over. We know that “the secret things belong to the Lord” (Deut 29:29). He is sovereignly orchestrating all things according to his good purposes. But even still, we are not totally left in the dark as to what the Lord purposes to accomplish in our suffering. Let’s turn our attention back to 2 Corinthians 1, but this time pick up in verse 9. Why did the Lord allow Paul and the apostles to get to that level of utter despair?

“But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead.”

Here’s the truth: God, in his loving, sovereign care, will allow for you to enter seasons of great hardship and despair where you are at the very end of your rope in order to demonstrate his glory and goodness in delivering you from that hardship. And this, I believe, is our first answer to the question, what is the purpose of our suffering? Because he loves you, God will place you in trials where you will despair of anything you can do in your own strength, to teach you to rely on him.

What you and I need is not more self-confidence. This is what Stoicism teaches—that suffering exists in order to provide opportunity to build our self-reliance and prove what we’re made of. And that as we overcome these hardships we will prove to the world and to ourselves that we are good enough and strong enough. But friends, this is the exact antithesis of what the Bible is presenting to us here. This is simply another form of “sprucing up the jar.”

Listen to the clarity that Paul and the apostles received after their affliction in Asia. Look again at 1:10:

“He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again.”

That’s the first answer to the question of what our suffering is for—to teach us to rely not on ourselves, but on him. But there is a second answer to this question in the next verse. 1:11

“You also must help us by prayer, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many.”

“…many will give thanks on our behalf—” thanks to who? To God! Paul’s affliction and despair was not only designed to increase his faith and worship, but also the faith and worship of others! In essence, he’s saying, “The more people I have praying for the Lord to deliver me from this current hardship, the more glory God will get when he does!” This is why Paul was always so eager to share about all of the awful suffering that he experienced as an apostle. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone—he didn’t care about that—he wanted more people to give thanks to God on his behalf. He wanted them to admire the treasure, not the jar.

And so it should be with us. We too will be “afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken, struck down; but not destroyed.”

Fitzgerald: “Viewed as a whole, then, the hardships that Paul lists in his catalog have, as it were, caused cracks in him as an earthen vessel, but the vessel itself remains intact. The vessel is held together by the power of divine adhesive, and the light that shines (4:5-6) through these cracks is none other than the light of the life of Jesus (4:10-11).”

In God’s loving providence, he will never let us be destroyed, but he will humble us. He will allow our jars to get cracked, so that his surpassing power and glory might be more clearly seen as he sustains and delivers us.

Practically, I think one thing these verses should teach us is that we are not more godly for downplaying our hardships or acting as if they are inconsequential. Maybe that’s your tendency. You don’t like share openly about your suffering. Maybe it feels self-indulgent, like an opportunity for drawing attention to yourself. And that’s a real possibility, right? We all know people who feel VERY free to share and make every conversation about them and their problems. But that’s not what Paul does. Paul also feels very free to share about his weakness and woes, but his purpose is never to draw attention to himself. It’s always to turn the attention back to the Lord who sustains and delivers him through it all.

Brother, sister, have you ever considered that by not sharing openly about your hardships, you might actually be robbing God of the glory he wants to display through you? Jesus is not more glorified when you pretend like your suffering doesn’t phase you. In fact, you might be accomplishing the very opposite! “Man, nothing seems to phase this guy!” Or, “She always seems to have it so together.” What is happening? Your stalwart silence in the face of suffering is not turning attention away from you, it’s actually turning it back toward you—away from the treasure, and back to the jar.

If I can speak candidly for a minute, I think there is a generational component at play here. In my experience as a pastor, in general, younger generations tend to be more willing to open up about their weaknesses and trials—sometimes to a fault. And conversely, older generations, in general, tend to be less willing to share about what is hard in their life. If you find yourself in that second category, can I encourage you? There are younger Christians in this church who need to learn from you! Why? Because I’m struggling too! Maybe I’m suffering in a way right now that I never have before and I need an older saint who has been alive longer than me to place their arm around me and tell me of what God has done in your life—how he has shown himself to be faithful in your life. I need your “eyes of faith” to see what I cannot see right now! We need you. We need to hear testimony not just of what you have suffered, but how the Lord has delivered and sustained you through it! Dear brother and sister, don’t withhold glory from the Lord!

We’ve answered two questions:

1. Who are We?

2. What is the Purpose of Our Suffering?

Let’s close now by answering our third and final question: Who Does our Suffering Represent?

3. Who Does our Suffering Represent?

8-12 “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.”

See how Paul summarizes the essence of what the Christian’s suffering represents in verse 10: “…always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. What does this mean?

New American Commentary: “Bauckham pinpoints the logic behind Paul's thinking, ‘If God's definitive salvific act occurred through the weakness of the crucified Jesus, then it should be no surprise that the saving gospel of the crucified Jesus should reach the Gentiles through the weakness of his apostle.’”

Paul wants us to connect our suffering with Jesus’ suffering. And which of us has suffered more than him? Who has been afflicted more than Christ? Perplexed? Persecuted? Struck down? This is the message of the gospel—the shattering of sin’s dominion, the overthrowing of Satan’s kingdom, the redemption of sinful rebels—not through a dazzling display of power and might, but a shameful death on a cross. This is why the message of the cross was such foolishness to the Jews and the Gentiles. Submit your life to a Savior who was hung on a tree like a common criminal?

But while the message of the cross might be foolishness to those who are perishing, “to us who are being saved, it is the power of God.” There is no empty tomb without the cross. There is no resurrection life without death.

The treasure that has been entrusted to us—the hope of Christ’s death and life—cannot be communicated with words alone. It must be accompanied by a visual display.

Colossians 1:24 “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church.”

What was “lacking” in Christ’s afflictions? That almost sounds blasphemous, doesn’t it? But listen to how John Piper explains Paul’s meaning here:

“What’s missing in Christ’s afflictions is the presentation of those afflictions to the people for whom he died — the personal, touchable, visible, seeable presentation of his afflictions to those for whom he died...” It’s like Paul is saying, “My suffering will become the visible reenactment of the suffering of Christ for others so that when they see me suffering to reach them, to touch them, to love them, they will have a visual enactment of Christ’s love for them.”

I can think of no better passage than Philippians 2:5-11 to help us connect our ministry of death and life with Christ’s ministry of death and life:

“Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

When others see you dying to yourself daily (your sinful desires, your comforts, your preferences) for Christ’s sake, they will see his beauty and his worth in a way that your words alone could never portray. And when you endure great suffering, hardships, and loss for Christ’s sake—not with a stoic “upper lip” or misplaced self-confidence, but with a steady confidence that God will bring you through—they will see his power and his goodness in a way that mere platitudes could never convey.

Chrysostom: “What is the death of Jesus which they carried about with them? It is the daily deaths which they died, by which the resurrection also was shown. This is another reason for the trials, that Christ’s life might be manifested in human bodies. What looks like weakness and destitution in fact proclaims his resurrection.”

And knowing all of this is what helps us not despair in our own “dying.” We have confidence that the more we suffer as Christians with our hope set on the Lord, the more his saving power and glory—the life of Jesus—will be displayed through us. And not only for the salvation of unbelievers (although that’s true), but for the benefit of other Christians too. Paul saw his own sufferings as a benefit to the Corinthian Christians:

4:12: “So death is at work in us, but life in you.”

In other words, he says, “As you see the Lord’s power displayed through my weakness, and his sustaining love preserving me through all my suffering, your faith in him will be strengthened. You will see through me Jesus bringing life through death.

Brothers and sisters, there’s no getting around the fact that this calling we have to be jars of clay carrying the treasure of Christ—as wondrous and glorious as it is—is a hard calling. Pointing to Jesus through our weakness is hard. Making much of Jesus through our suffering is hard. Displaying daily the death of Jesus in these frail bodies is hard. But it is the only path to true life.

As he reflected on the many blessings the Lord had brought about through the suffering ministry of his dear wife, Charles Spurgeon wrote these words:

“Let every believer accept this as the inference of [her] experience: that for most human maladies, the best relief and antidote will be found in self-sacrificing work for the Lord Jesus.”

And remember too that there is coming an end date to all of this—where weakness and suffering and death will fully and finally be forever swallowed up in life. Just a few verses down, at the end of chapter 4:16-18, we are given this great promise:

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.