Those Clay Jars

I believe in the church. Let me say that, again. Some people don't, I know. They say they have a personal relationship with Jesus. They say they don't need a church to be a Christian. The Gospel says otherwise. When Jesus sent the disciples into the towns, he sent them in pairs. When things were the worst, Jesus wanted his community with him. And oh yeah, Jesus called a community of people. There are, of course, reasons to call twelve, mimicking the twelve tribes of Israel. But Jesus could have been a Moses or an Elijah--either no followers or just one. The church, the people called are, are part of what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ. We all follow together. We all search for the reign of God together.

And yet, when I look at the church, my heart is broken. It breaks again and again. Those who would make the church angrier and meaner than anyone should ever be get the loudest voice. And on the other side of things, we're a different sort of broken. Mostly, I think about the jars made out of clay.

That passage was meant to inspire hope among people who were distressed, but mostly to say that they were only vessels hiding the glorious power of God. The trouble is, somehow, we have begun to only look at our jars made out of clay. We look at our very ordinariness and limitations and sigh, not having known the all-surpassing power that is within.

The truth is, we haven't had to trust in that unseen, all-surpassing power within in a long time. The Gospel was first preached to the very poorest and marginalized in the culture. The people searching for the hidden power certainly had very little within their world. So in this neck of the woods, where the church saw strong, strong growth for so long, especially in the population boom of the 50s and 60s, we've been powerful for a long time. We didn't have to look within. We were some of the strongest forces around. We were dressed up in jars of marble and gold, jars decked out with jewels. The world around the church came to the church because such relationships were necessary for respect in the community.


As that has passed away, we can only look at our ordinariness.

Stop it. Seriously. Stop it.

And start looking at the things that defy the ordinary. Look at the things that have happened in the name of Christ that have transformed you.

In the name of Christ...
...were you healed?
...were you fed?
...were you welcomed?
...were you given a place to sleep?
...were you loved?

And in the name of Christ...
...have you healed?
...have you fed?
...have you welcomed?
....have you offered a place to sleep?
....have you loved?

Because of my own stories around just those seemingly simple things, I can guess that if you have been on either end of those things, you have been transformed. And if you begin talking about those stories, you cannot help but feel the extraordinary things wrapped up inside the things that seem so simple. It's that all-surpassing power wrapped up in a clay jar.

After all, the Gospel story is just those things, spoken over and over again. And if we looked to the things inside those clay jars instead of the jars, we might be shocked at the church we find.