Recently, something very strange happened to me. Something that I always knew was theoretically possible, but which still came as a shock. A couple of weeks ago, I woke up one morning and realized that I was now — wait for it — a “Grandpa”.
Now, the event which brought about this transformation was of course a very joyful one: our daughter and her husband welcomed our first grandchild into the world, A strapping young fellow, 22 ½ inches long, with hands like catcher’s mitts. We are exceedingly blessed and thankful.
It still seems strange to think of myself as a Grandpa. But I suppose I’ll have to get used to it. Now in addition to this change, a month ago I turned sixty-five, which is when you officially become a senior citizen. Yes. The other day, I was at the dentist, and the dental hygienist asked me, “So, are you still working?” I answered, “Yes, I’m working, but I plan to retire soon”. And I thought, “why is she asking me that?” Why would you ask someone if they’re “still working”? Doesn’t that imply that they look old enough to be retired? Well, since that’s obviously not the case, given my youthful appearance, I’m choosing to believe that she saw my age in the medical record. But in any case, I’m being reminded, in several ways, that time is passing. Don’t get me started on the mailings I receive every week from the AARP. Now thankfully, I’m in excellent health. I stay active; I swim, and play tennis; I lift weights. My heart is strong. My mind is clear — as far as I know. If you think otherwise, please don’t tell me. But I can’t escape the fact that there are more years behind me than in front of me. It’s a sobering realization. And one that perhaps many of you have had also.
Which brings us to this morning’s text. Paul is writing to the church at Corinth, the letter that we know as Second Corinthians. Paul is writing the letter, in part, to justify his ministry in response to those who were criticizing him. He was likely in his mid-50’s at the time, an old man by first century standards. And I think that what he had to say to them is worth considering, for those of us who are getting older (which includes everyone in this room, even those whose hair hasn’t turned white).
The most striking thing about Paul’s defense of his ministry in this letter is that he doesn’t try to build himself up by boasting. He doesn’t try to impress them by talking about how wise and learned he is, or how powerful a speaker, or how strong and decisive. Instead, he acknowledges his weakness and admits that he is not in control of events. Listen to this:
30 If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness. 31 The God and Father of the Lord Jesus, who is to be praised forever, knows that I am not lying. 32 In Damascus the governor under King Aretas had the city of the Damascenes guarded in order to arrest me. 33 But I was lowered in a basket from a window in the wall and slipped through his hands.” (2 Corinthians 11:30-33).
Paul, the great apostle to the gentiles! Paul, the miracle-worker! Paul, who had to sneak out of the city by hiding in a basket and being lowered from a window, in the middle of the night. Paul, who had to run away and hide. Not so impressive, is it?
Later, Paul write about his “thorn in the flesh”— which was likely a physical disability or ailment; we’re not sure what — and this provides another example of his weakness:
“8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 10 That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:8-10)
Paul, who performed great works of healing, couldn’t heal himself. So here we have Paul, who is seeking to defend his right to preach the gospel and his authority to testify to the saving power of Jesus Christ. But he doesn’t talk about how great he is, how strong, how powerful. Just the opposite. He freely acknowledges his limitations, his weaknesses. In fact, he says that he “delights” in them. Why? Why would he do that? Because it’s not about his strength, his power, his wisdom, his authority. It’s about Christ and his power. It’s about the power of Christ acting in us, and through us. That’s what matters. This is important for us to remember at every stage of life, but especially so as we age and sense that our strength and abilities may be diminishing. It doesn’t matter. Because it was never about our strength or our power or our ability in the first place. It’s about his power. Our limitations do not limit God. And our weakness does not diminish God’s strength.
Again, our limitations and our weaknesses are no hindrance to the power of Christ working through us. In fact, just the opposite is true. It is only when we recognize our limitations and stop trying to be everything, stop trying to do everything that is needed in order to see God’s work succeed, and instead rely on Christ to be, and to do what is needed through us; it is only as we stop trying to impress others with who we are, that we are able to see Christ’s power at work. What does the Lord say to Paul again?
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
Power is made perfect in weakness. What is Paul’s response to that? Does he say, “Lord, I’ve got this”? “Lord, thank you for all of your gifts, I’ll take it from here”? No, he says,
“Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”
So let me ask you a question: Are you doing that? Are you relying on your strength, thinking that you have to do it all, thinking that it all depends on you? Or are you acknowledging your weakness, so that Christ can work in you and through you?
What does all this have to do with aging? And again, this applies to most of the people in this room, whatever your age. Scientists tell us that we peak, physically and mentally, in our twenties, and after that, we’re just managing the decline. When we are young, we are strong. We can lift heavy weights. We can get up out of a chair without grunting. We can remember people’s names. We can remember why we walked into the living room.
And as we age, we grow physically weaker. We have less stamina. Our minds are often not as sharp as they once were (although some kinds of intelligence, like judgement and decision-making, can continue strong, and even increase, throughout our lives). But we’re likely not as confident of ourselves as we used to be. And the temptation is to say, well, God can’t really use me anymore. I can’t do as much. My value to the kingdom of God is diminished. Because we think, wrongly, that our strength is what matters, when actually the opposite is true. Our weakness is what allows God’s strength and power to be displayed. That’s always been the case, at every point in our lives, young or old. It’s just that as we get older, we’re more aware of our weaknesses and limitations. But that can be a good thing. Because again, as Paul writes,
“For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
One potential benefit of growing older, and little by little weaker, in body and mind, is that we realize it never was about our strength and power. It was always about Christ’s strength and power. And if we accept that, and glory in it, we can continue to see God do great things through us, by his power, even into old age. Because it isn’t what we can, or can’t do, that matters. It’s what Christ can do that matters. Amen?
Let’s explore this a little more. Because although we may agree with this in theory, when it comes right down to it, we’re still going to be tempted to think that what matters is our ability, our power, our strength, our wisdom. You are still going to be tempted to think that your weaknesses, whatever they may be, are an impediment, a hindrance, to the work of the gospel. And when you come up against your limitations, you may get discouraged and want to stop trying to make a difference for God. Instead of seeing those limitations as opportunities to see what Christ can do by his power.
Paul uses an interesting metaphor to describe the relationship between our weakness and God’s power. He calls us “jars of clay”.
“7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9 persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.” (2 Corinthians 4:7-9)
We are like clay pots. The King James Version says we are “earthen vessels”. So what is Paul saying here? How are we like pottery?
Well, first of all, pottery is weak. It’s brittle. It’s easily broken. Unlike things made of metal, such as bronze or iron, clay pots are not very sturdy. If you drop them on a hard surface, they break into a million pieces. If you had something truly valuable to protect, the last thing you would use would be something easily broken, like a clay pot. And that’s what we are. That’s what I see when I look out at the congregation this morning. Pews full of clay pots. But here’s the thing: despite our weakness, we don’t break. What does Paul say?
“8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9 persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.”
Despite all of the hardships, and sorrows, and disappointments, and tragedies that life throws at us, we don’t break. We may get chipped or scratched. And those chips and scratches tend to accumulate. But we aren’t crushed, we aren’t destroyed. Why not? Because we’re so strong, so tough, so resilient? No. We’re just clay pots. Then why don’t we break, why don’t we shatter? Because there is an “all-surpassing power” that “is from God and not from us” that keeps us from being destroyed, despite our inherent weakness.
And again, that’s the whole point. That’s what God intended. It’s not a mistake. Our weakness is not just an unfortunate consequence of being made of flesh and bone. No,
God intentionally made us to be weak, and limited, and inadequate, and unimpressive—like ordinary clay pots—so that when we succeed, when we triumph, when we do great things, no one will imagine that we actually did it by our power. That was God’s design. He wanted our limitations and weaknesses to be so obvious, to us and everyone else, that the only possible explanation for the great things he would do through us would be that He did it. So that He would get all of the glory, just as he should. And so there’s no reason to hide your weaknesses and limitations, and also no reason to be discouraged by them. They don’t limit God. They don’t make God weak. On the contrary, it’s because of them that God will be glorified when he does his work through you. In fact, often it’s the followers of Christ who seem to have the least to recommend them, those who seem the least impressive from a human of view, who have the greatest capacity to glorify God. As Christ told us, “many who are first will be last, and the last, first”. (Mark 10:31).
People might look at a person who is diminished in some way, whether physically, or mentally, or emotionally, and think to themselves, “What can they accomplish? They seem so incapable”. Maybe someone who’s grown weak, or who doesn’t think as clearly as they used to. Doesn’t hear as well. Can’t get up the stairs anymore. Maybe you’ve even thought that about yourself. What good am I? But that’s not the right question. The right question is, “what could they ever accomplish by their own power?” And the answer is, “nothing”. Nothing. And so nothing has changed. They can’t do anything in their own power, but they never could. What else hasn’t changed? What God can do through them. What can God do through them? Whatever he wants. Just as he always could. That hasn’t changed either. And so nothing has really changed! Do you believe that? It is hard to believe. But it’s true.
Let me give you an illustration from Scripture. It concerns a man called Bartimaeus. I’m reading from the gospel of Mark chapter ten, verses 46-52:
46 Then they came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus (which means “son of Timaeus”), was sitting by the roadside begging. 47 When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”
48 Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” 49 Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.”
So they called to the blind man, “Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you.” 50 Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.
51 “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked him.
The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.”
52 “Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.
What could Bartimaeus accomplish? What good was he? In human terms, very little. A blind man in first century Judea had no job prospects, no independence, no way of caring for himself. He made no contribution to society; all he could do was sit by the road and beg for alms. Now let me ask you this: of all the people who have ever lived on this earth, how many have had a greater impact for the kingdom of God than this helpless blind man? Very few. Because literally billions of men, women, and children have been inspired by his story, as recounted in the Bible. Do you see? What mattered wasn’t what he could do. What mattered was what Jesus could do through him. That’s all that mattered. That’s all that ever matters.
So what is the point of this story? You might say it shows us that God is not limited by our strength or weakness, our ability or disability, our power or powerlessness. He wasn’t limited by Bartimaeus inability to see. And that would be true. But that’s not the point of the story. The point is not that God is able to use us despite our limitations. It’s that God is able to use us only because of our limitations. Our weakness is what allows his power to be displayed. It was God’s intention that we be limited and relatively powerless. So that he and his unlimited power would receive all the glory. So if you think that you aren’t enough – not strong enough, not smart enough, not young enough, not rich enough – you’re right. God never intended for you to be enough. Because he is enough.
Let’s go back to the idea of the clay pot. If you saw an ordinary clay pot being subjected to tremendous pressure without shattering into pieces, what would you think? That’s some special, super-duper kind of clay? No, you would say, “there must be something inside that clay pot that is supporting it. There must be something inside it that allows it to withstand all that pressure without breaking”. And there is. It’s the Spirit of God. It’s the Spirit of God within us that allows us to meet all the challenges of life without breaking. It’s not our inherent strength or power. It’s the strength and power of God in us. And so if you find yourself struggling with the challenges of life, as we all do, the answer is not to say, “I need to be stronger. I need to get stronger.” The answer is to ask Christ to give you his strength, to be strong through you. And then give Him all the glory when He does.
What else is Paul telling us by calling us “clay pots”? Well, clay pots are not very impressive. We’re not talking about fine China here; the Romans of the first century didn’t have delicate porcelain. No, this is ordinary clay: material for common use; to make everyday plates, or cups, or bowls. You might use it to fashion storage containers for grain, or water.
Think about this: if you had something of great value, some kind of treasure, what would you store it in? If somehow you came into possession of a priceless piece of art, how would you display it? A Rembrandt, or a Van Gogh, or a Leonardo Da Vinci? You would give it a beautiful frame, embossed with gold leaf, made by a fine craftsman, in order to enhance its beauty and demonstrate its value. You wouldn’t hammer together a frame made of leftover plywood. You wouldn’t expect to walk into the Louvre or the British Museum and see all the great masterworks framed in pine two-by-fours, or the sculptures standing on pedestals made of cardboard or plastic. And yet that is exactly what God has done. He has taken the greatest treasures of all, the gospel of Jesus Christ and the Spirit of Christ, and he has placed them in us. The Clay Pot Brigade.
Why would he do that? Why would God put his greatest treasure in clay pots? As painfully aware as we are of our limitations, and imperfections, and deficiencies, and at times, just our plain moral ugliness, why in the world would God entrust his greatest treasure to us? Let’s look again at verse 7:
“7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.” (2 Corinthians 4:7)
There it is. He does it to demonstrate—to us, to the world, to the angels and demons, to every created being—he does it to demonstrate that this glory, this treasure we possess is from Him, and not from us. There is nothing in us that enhances the gospel. There is nothing in us that adds to God’s power, or wisdom, or glory. It’s all from him. When people see God’s love, or his wisdom, or his power shining through us, he wants to make sure that no one makes the mistake of attributing any of those things to us. He wants to make sure that He receives all the glory, and worship, and acclaim, and praise. Why? Because he deserves it. As we read in the book of Revelation:
“You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they were created and have their being.” (Revelation 4:11)
The apostle Peter writes this:
“10 Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms. 11 If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen.” (1 Peter 4:10-12)
In other words, no matter what we do or say, whether we are speaking, or serving, or exercising any other gift in the service of the gospel, we must remember, and make sure everyone else remembers, that only God is to be praised for the outcome, not us. We’re made of clay, not gold or silver, and all of the praise and glory belongs to God.
And by the way, this should serve as a bit of a caution. If we start to think that we are really something, or that we have really done something amazing, and we forget to give God all the glory for it, we risk being reminded that we are just clay pots. By the same token, if we are tempted to think too highly of any other servant of Christ, whether it’s a pastor, or teacher, or missionary, or Christian worker, we need to remember what Paul tells us:
“5 Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God. 6 He has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant—not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.” (2 Corinthians 3:5-6)
Are we competent to do the things God asks of us? Yes. Are we competent in ourselves; or does that competence come from within us? No. Even Paul did not claim that he was competent to do anything. His competence and ours—our abilities, our strength, our power, all of it, comes from God. What will happen if we forget that? Listen to Paul:
“Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. 8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:7-8)
Now please understand me. I’m not saying that every physical affliction is a punishment from God. Not at all. But sometimes, when God gives a person gifts of ministry, he also blesses them with one or more significant weaknesses. Not necessarily as a punishment, but as a protection against pride, so that they will remember that anything they may accomplish comes from God’s power, and not their own. A means of keeping them humble. And so the next time that you are tempted to think of yourself, or someone else, too highly, remember that they don’t just have feet of clay, they are made entirely of clay, from head to foot. And the only thing that keeps them from crumbling into dust is what is inside them, the gospel of Christ and the Spirit of God. That’s what makes them what they are.
All right. I’ve been talking about the power and the glory of God being entrusted to us, whom he made to be clay pots, with all of our deficiencies and weaknesses, so that He would receive all the praise and glory. But will we always be just clay pots? No! Not at all! In fact, the day will come when we will share fully in His glory.
“18 And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” (2 Corinthians 3:18)
Throughout our journey of faith in this life, as we walk with Christ, as we guide our steps by his word and his example, we are being transformed, slowly but surely, into his image and likeness. And when he returns to take us all to heaven,
14 . . . we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus and present us with you to himself . . . . 16 Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 17 For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18 So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. 1 For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands.
(2 Corinthians 4:14, 4:16-5:1)
The limitations that we struggle with now, the weaknesses and mistakes, the pain and heartache, the defeats and disappointments — all of that will, on the day of Christ’s return, be a thing of the past. As Paul writes in Romans,
“16 The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. 17 Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory. 18 I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.” (Romans 8:18)
Isn’t that amazing? We are only clay pots for now, but someday, we will be much, much more. I’ll close with one more passage from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, a reminder of what awaits us at the resurrection:
“42 So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; 43 it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power. . . . 51 Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed— 52 in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. 53 For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality.” (1 Corinthians 15:42-43, 51-53)
Are you discouraged by your limitations, your weaknesses? Don’t be. God gave you those. God made you a clay pot, so that his power and his glory could more clearly be seen in you. But there will come a day when we are no longer clay pots, but we will fully share in God’s glory. And we will share in his glory throughout eternity, because of what Christ has done for us. May he receive all the praise, and glory, and honor, and power, forever.
Amen and Amen.
