The Glory of God in a Cracked Pot–Do You See It?

In 2 Corinthians 4:10, Paul is wrapping up an unhappy list of afflictions that believers suffer, along with the corresponding assertion that the believer still survives it.  It is “happy” that the believer survives, but it is difficult to believe that followers of Jesus would be very effective at sharing the “good news” of Jesus using this passage.  At least it would seem so on the surface. 

Paul wraps up the examples of harsh living with “always carrying about the death of Jesus in the body so that the life of Jesus might be revealed in the body.”  This statement is a great way to cap off the preceding verses of survived strife.  And it would seem that it would be the least attractive way to convince someone to believe Jesus has any “good news” available.  But when the list is really examined, what is found is that it contains much that is common in life.  The statement bandied about by most parents (probably in every culture on the planet) that “life is not fair” is so common because it’s true.  In many ways, in all walks of life, in a multitude of circumstances, life is tough.  What is so remarkable about these statement is the victory implied by each, including the last.  The last says that the reason for the victory through life, as bad as it may be, is that Jesus’ resurrection might be proven to be true.

So, when I “suffer” in this unfair life, the victory of my endurance and perseverance displays the power and life of my Master.  I am clearly not equal to the task.  For instance, when it became clear to me that my Master wanted my family and I to move out of state to assist my in-laws, I didn’t hesitate.  We set a date, marked the calendar, rented a truck for that date, and are ready to go.  That is without prospects of job, house, or anything else.  People asked us and looked at us like we were nuts, sort of.  There was this marvel in their eyes.  And it was clearly a mental reassessment of who we are, and what our lives are about.  We simply said our family needs us and we’re going.  As we do so, and people witness this peaceful working out of such a decision, I think it becomes clear that the difference about us has to come from somewhere else.  People just don’t do such things, not normally.  So, the only thing they know about me that explains this difference is my belief in my Master.  That is what is different about me from them, and they know that.  So, as I go through this transition, it is my Master Who shines through. 

This is true even though they know of failures on my part.  I have owned them.  Perhaps they have seen some changes lately, but I have not denied my failures.  So, what they witness is an admitted imperfect follower of Jesus, who, when it comes down to the tough choices just does the right thing.  The trust in being cared for is clear, and just as clear is that there is nothing tangible, just trust.  So, the clarity of my Master’s glory is still not as clear as it would be through a cleaner vessel, but His mercy and grace could not be more evident.  I’m a cracked pot containing the unimaginable treasure of the glory of the Master of the Universe.  It’s hard not to tell what’s inside when the outside is so broken.  The holes in my character are the spaces in my life where my Master shines the brightest.

Now, as it turns out, the imagination of my Master has exceeded my own once again.  A possibility has arisen which may hold the opportunity of moving but still maintaining my job.  There are hurdles to be worked out, but the possibility is still there.  Even if it does not work out, that my Senior Supervisor even suggested it means a lot to me.  So I am once again blessed beyond my own qualities.  I pray that either way this option turns out that my Master’s grace and power once again shines bright through the gaps in my life.  I believe it will.  It has so far, and this does not take away something I have now, rather holds out the possibility of adding.  I truly have nothing to loose, so the blessing is there either way.  And this is evidence to which I cling, evidence that my Master will provide one way or the other from an imagination I cannot hope to match.  Call it faith if you want, but to me, once evidence like this shows up, it seems too easy to believe to call faith.  But, on the other hand, it makes it easier to step out on faith for all the other decisions I make.

Oswald Chambers' "My Utmost For His Highest": May 14th.

Is Perspective Everything?

I have been a believer in Jesus and have trusted Him for my status before God since I was seven.  So, how can my devotion and dedication to my Master be driven by what He has saved me from?  What is there to be saved from as a seven-year-old?  At that point I really did not have any idea of what sort of thing I needed to be saved from.  If I am to use that sense of self before and after the event of salvation I'm in trouble.  This is a difficult perspective for me.  My memory of the event isn't even all that clear, so how can I hang my hat on that pivotal moment?  Or was it that pivotal?

My relationship with my Master, Jesus, has been a varied thing over my life.  Like the other relationships I have, both family and friends, I have often taken the lazy options in regard to them.  I have not been responsible to make an effort to remain in contact.  I have not made it easy to find me, or stay connected.  Even those close to me sometimes find me emotionally detached.  So, how can I fasten onto some sort of sense of self, and awareness of change in order to show gratitude in devotion?  I don't have that sense of self nor of change sufficient for the level of devotion I believe my Master wants of me.

So, for my devotion to my Master I have had to make some concessions and adaptations.  First off, most of my mistakes, major and minor, I made after I committed my life to my Master.  So my sense of being saved from something fits more in the category of what some believers call "sanctification".  Whatever I call it, I have to accept that I am accepted in spite of my preponderance of failure.  That is hard.  I want to judge, punish, and deprecate myself because of my failures.  I hide them and deny them.  I medicate my shame over them with destructive behavior.  I do not accept myself with them in tact.

My Master, on the other hand, takes me with my failures and cleans them off of me.  He cleans out my pools of shame I have tended as emotional reservoirs to fuel my compulsions.  He loves me and has my back.  He calls to me and asks me to walk about in His presence, living, acting, speaking, thinking, and relating to others with my fractured social skills.  How can He do that?  That is where my devotion is derived.  Gratitude from this sort of  radical acceptance I can use to devote my life to my Master daily.  The first hurdle is accept His view of me.

The second concession I make for my devotion to my Master is to obey a passive imperative to change.  He has commanded and the fulfillment of that command is impossible.  I am to transform, metamorphosis into something else is my call.  I can't do that.  So, the command is passive, "be transformed."  How can I be commanded to do that?  I can't control that (which scares me).  Again, I obey a passive command.  I obey by being compliant to the change.  My concession is let my Master change me into something else; something else not of my choosing.  I am the servant, the knight who obeys the commands to go, to stay, to serve.  My Master makes adjustments in His time, in His ways, using His methods, and His purpose.

With those two concessions, my devotion to my Master is based on tenuous ground at best.  Just because I know that I am accepted does not mean I accept that I am accepted.  Just because I know I am to let my Master do the changing, choose the timing, and methods does not mean I will let Him.  What I know and what I do will often not match.  And I do not have a history from which I can derive a sense of gratitude toward atonement.

So, yes, I am devoted, but my devotion will sometimes limp along rather than run.  Yes, I am being changed, but slower than I would like, and probably slower than my Master would like.  It would be faster if I were more compliant I am sure.  And, in spite of this, my Master accepts me, loves me, and seems to enjoy being a part of my daily, moment-by-moment, mistake-filled life.  I don't pretend to understand that, but it saves me from an empty, useless, perhaps dangerous, and toxic life.  For that, I am truly grateful.