Treasure in clay jars
Weak vessels, glorious power
Paul explains why God entrusts his glorious gospel to such unimpressive people: we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. The treasure is the gospel, the light of Christ; the jars of clay are us — ordinary, fragile, breakable, unimpressive containers. And the mismatch is entirely the point.
If God had placed his treasure in magnificent golden vessels, everyone would admire the containers, and the glory would be confused. By placing it in plain clay pots, he ensures that when power and beauty shine out, no one mistakes the source. The obvious weakness of the vessel guarantees that the credit goes to the treasure within, and to the God who put it there.
This transforms how we regard our own ordinariness and weakness. We tend to wish we were more impressive vessels, and to think God could use us more if we were. Paul says our very unimpressiveness is part of the design. The cracks and limitations we are ashamed of are precisely what let the light shine through, and what keep the glory God's. The death of self is content to be a clay jar — even glad of it — because a clay jar that knows it is clay points unmistakably to the treasure and not to itself. Stop wishing you were a golden vessel. Be a clay jar that lets the treasure show.
“We have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the exceeding greatness of the power may be of God, and not from ourselves.”
— Paul, to the Corinthians — 2 Corinthians 4:7 (WEB)
Be content, even glad, to be a clay jar — letting your very ordinariness and weakness point unmistakably to the treasure and its Giver, not to yourself.
“God chose the weak things of the world, that he might put to shame the things that are strong.”
We carry a hunch that God is waiting for us to become more impressive before he can really use us, and so we resent the cracks and hide the limitations. Paul names the design we keep fighting: the treasure goes in clay on purpose. The interior work is to stop wishing to be golden and consent to be a jar of clay — letting the very fragility we are ashamed of be the seam the light pours through, so the surpassing power is plainly God's and not ours.
This week, stop hiding or resenting your weaknesses as if they disqualify you: offer yourself to God as a clay jar, letting the cracks show, and trust that his power shines through your ordinariness more clearly than it would through impressiveness.
Self-image insists you must be a finer vessel to be worth anything, so you despise your ordinariness or paper over the cracks. Yet a clay jar that knows it is clay points unmistakably past itself to the treasure within — and the glory the polished vessel would have stolen goes, as it was always meant to, to God.
We tend to think God could use us more if we were more impressive — more gifted, more eloquent, more put-together vessels. Paul says the opposite is closer to the truth. God deliberately places his treasure in jars of clay, ordinary and fragile, precisely so that the surpassing power is obviously his and not ours. Our unimpressiveness is not an obstacle to his glory but part of its design.
This reframes the very weaknesses we are ashamed of. If the treasure were carried in golden vessels, the glory would be confused; everyone would admire the container. The plain clay pot ensures that when light shines out, the credit goes to the treasure and its Giver. The cracks and limitations we wish away are exactly what let the light through. The death of self is content, even glad, to be a clay jar — for a vessel that knows it is clay points unmistakably to God. Why keep wishing to be golden, when God chose clay on purpose?
- Do I think God could use me more if I were more impressive?
- Am I ashamed of the very cracks that let the light through?
- Can I be glad to be a clay jar that points to the treasure?
Lord, I wish I were a more impressive vessel and am ashamed of my cracks. But you put your treasure in jars of clay on purpose, that the power may be yours and not mine. Make me content to be clay, and let your light shine through my weakness to your glory. Amen.