Or, Gospel Ministry in the Flesh
Scripture: 2 Corinthians 4:7-12
Date: May 5, 2013
Speaker: Sean Higgins
Or, Gospel Ministry in the Flesh
The gospel ministry (not ministry as vocation but as work) is a death sentence. It requires the very life of those who spread the good news of life. Ministry is hard because, for ministry to be fruitful, ministers must suffer trouble and die. That’s exactly how it’s designed.
We usually see difficulties as setbacks, as hindrances to ministry. According to 2 Corinthians 4:7-12, the opposite is true. Our weakness and weariness advances the ministry. Our discomfort leads to the comfort of others. Our dying leads to others living.
In this we see that ministry is personal and painful. I say it’s personal because, throughout the paragraph, Paul emphasizes ministers as “vessels” (verse 7), “bodies” (twice in verse 10), and “flesh” (verse 11). Ministry happens when a person dwells among people on purpose. This is incarnational ministry. I used to chaff against the word incarnational because most of the people who used it seemed to be emergent types, those who elevated relationship above truth. But I repented; it is a good word. It’s good because we’re to follow Christ’s example, who took on flesh and dwelled among us to serve us, and, ministry-in-body seems to be the emphasis here. Ministry is never about the person, but it can’t be separated from the person either.
I say ministry is painful, too. Ministry demands everything we have, even our lives. It is nothing less than dying so that others may live. That process is also a way we follow the example of Jesus, and the paragraph bears it out. It’s not our death, the single event when it’s over, that’s under the microscope; it’s dying, the process of dying. Verses 8-9 are full of ongoing pain. Verse 10 states we are carrying (an ongoing thing) the dying of Jesus. Verse 11 states we are delivered over (ongoing) to death. Verse 12 states death is at work (also ongoing). Death isn’t “at work” if you’re dead.
The good news is that dying effects life. Life is in verse 10, twice in verse 11, and again in verse 12. Ministry brings life at the cost of life. This is a theology of ministry if there ever was one. In terms of salvation, we lose our lives to find them. In terms of ministry, a person loses his life to give life to others.
The natural man does not understand how this works. It’s an unseen thing to him. He may see the results, but he can’t explain how it works, or he will explain it away, and he certainly isn’t ready to get to dying. Even we are tempted to steer clear of this. There must be other ways, more comfortable ways, less costly ways to bring good things to life. Not in the gospel ministry.
In the gospel ministry, when death is at work in us, life is at work in others. That is true, and it’s true for a reason. Our dying, physical and figurative, is not prohibitive to ministry, it is ministry. Death is at work! That’s the point of this paragraph.
In this paragraph, we’ll see death at work by considering Ministry Reality (verses 7-10), Ministry Rationale (verse 11), and Ministry Result (verse 12).
Verses 7-10 form one sentence, with one primary verb, making one main statement, followed by three subordinate phrases that flesh out the reality. The main statement is:
But we have this treasure in jars of clay
Things were exciting coming out of the last paragraph, specifically in verses 5 and 6. God shines light in hearts. God gives men knowledge of His glory. God brings men into relationship with Himself in the person of Jesus. We proclaim Jesus and God makes that effective. That’s why we don’t lose heart.
We should be excited about that; we want to ride that crescendo to the top. But the slave-heralds are not, in and of themselves, exciting. To elevate the slave-herald is to miss the point. The glorious work of a slave-herald does not make the slave-herald glorious.
Paul brings us back to earth in verse 7 with a clank. But we have this treasure in jars of clay.
What is the treasure? One option is that the treasure is the gospel message (verse 3), the new-covenant news. Another option is that the treasure is the light of the gospel (verse 4), the light of the knowledge (verse 6), emphasizing the effect of the message. But I don’t think either of those options are sufficient. I think the treasure is the gospel ministry; the treasure is the work of getting out the message that has the effect of light-giving.
Ministry, that is, everything involved in spreading the message, was the theme in chapter three. It was the topic in chapter four verse 1, “Having this ministry.” So now in verse 7, “We have this treasure.” The flow of the epistle and the similar phrasing of verses 1 and 7 draw attention to the work. The rest of the paragraph, verses 7-12, emphasize not only a certain message, but a certain kind of life that bears the message. The treasure is not less than the gospel, but neither can we put the gospel in a jar of formaldehyde. The treasure we have is to speak and live the gospel in person.
That said, the persons themselves are not much to speak about. We are jars of clay (ESV), “earthen(ware) vessels” (NAS), pots made of baked dirt. We are not the treasure; we carry the treasure.
Clay pots were simple, common, inexpensive, and easily replaceable. They were made of baked earth, so it didn’t really matter how they were treated or if they got dinged up or even if they broke; you’d get another one. They were meant to be used, not admired. Treasure, on the other hand, was special, uncommon, and valuable. Clay pots might hold significant and important and unique things but they were insignificant, unimportant, and normal.
The work we do is amazing. We are not. The ministry is glorious; ministers are not. It’s so easy to slip into wrong thinking here. The reality is that we are expendable, dispensable, meant to be used, not meant to be admired.
Compared to the treasure, clay pots are cheap. Compared to God’s power, clay pots are weak. That’s good. God puts His treasure in unworthy pots for a reason.
to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.
God’s intention for utilizing clay pots is to make it clear that God’s power is excellent. God makes use of brittle vessels in order to leave no doubt where the glory goes. In God’s economy, a pot’s weakness is an asset, not a liability.
It’s not just “power” at work, it’s surpassing power (ESV), “the surpassing greatness of power” (NAS), the “excellence of power” (NJKV), the “all-surpassing power” (NIV). No other power is comparable to His extraordinary, superlative power. Causing light to shine in darkness, creating light, is some kind of power indeed. God uses clay pots—cheap, breakable, replaceable—so that the pots don’t forget their place and so that God is exalted, not pots.
If we elevate pots, if we depend on pots, if we think ministry is about proper pot placement, or about pot maintenance or pot polishing, we are swimming against the tide of God’s purpose for ministry. Ministry requires a certain type of person, weak and cheap, so that God gets every last drop of credit.
What does it look like for a clay pot to carry the treasure of gospel ministry? Verses 8-9 shed light. The gospel ministry is more than directing someone down the Roman’s Road, it’s more than preaching world-class sermons about Jesus from a pulpit. It is people, living among people, and suffering in gospel ways.
We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; (verses 8–9)
Though every major English translation treats these as independent phrases, they are all participles (in Greek), indicating that they are dependent, and each one hangs on the primary verb “have” in verse 7. There are four pairs of “but not”s that reveal the severity of ongoing life for clay pot ministry.
Many commentators refer to these pairs as contrasts. They are not. Some see them as paradoxes. They are not. Verse 10 presents a gospel paradox, but we’ll treat that separately. Rather, verses 8-9 are breaking points. Clay pot ministry, ministry done in and for God’s surpassing power, is a process for the pot of being used, abused, beaten, battered, and almost but not broken [instead of the usual negation μὴ + participle, Paul uses οὐκ four times, indicating the certainty]. We’re at the precipice, but He preserves us from being pushed over.
First, pots are pressed but not crushed. Paul says, [being] afflicted in every way, but not [being] crushed. Being “afflicted” means being pressured or squeezed. Things start weighing on us. What things? “All things” or “in all ways.” There doesn’t seem to be a limitation on the nature of pressing things. Whatever comes in our ministry way. However, we are not [being] crushed. It’s a play on words, but not a contrast. A contrast would be, we are pressed but we make progress. No, we’re brought right up to the point where any more pressure would crush us. We’ve been checked, but not yet at check mate.
Second, pots are confused but not clueless. Paul says, we are [being] perplexed, but not [being] driven to despair. Each participle comes from the same root (ἀπορέω and ἐξαπορέω), with the second having an additional prefix. Being “perplexed” means being confused, at a loss. We don’t know what to do or how to fix it. We’re uncertain. But we’re not totally at a loss, “not despairing.” We’re not paralyzed by our confusion. We’re not humiliated or hopeless. We are brought right up to the edge.
Third, pots are attacked but not abandoned. Paul says, we are [being] persecuted but not [being] forsaken. Being “persecuted” means being pursued, hunted, chased. We’re on the run, but not deserted or being forsaken. God doesn’t leave us when enemies come after us, whether with fists or false accusations. But having God on our side doesn’t keep us from being hunted, or feeling like we’re all alone. We’re one step ahead.
Fourth, pots are down but not out. Paul says we are [being] struck down, but not [being] destroyed. There could be physical elements to being struck down, knocked down, thrown down; Paul endured beatings and stonings. But the breaking point isn’t death, it’s ruin or loss. Many things can be ruined or lost in ministry apart from physical health or life. We are on the mat, the 10 count has started, but we get up for more.
Each of these four “but not”s are normal pot activity. This is the normal onslaught of pot ministry. These are real extremes: being afflicted, perplexed, persecuted, and struck down. But being brought to the edge of the cliff without going over is how clay pots carry the treasure and show that the surpassing power is God’s. Let me make two observations.
First, if you’re trying to protect the pot, the pot probably isn’t doing anybody any good. The pot is supposed to be used; that’s the purpose. Being pressured, perplexed, persecuted, and pushed down are normal wear and tear for pots. If you never feel weighed down, if you think you’ve got it figured out, if everyone’s your friend, if you never hit the floor, you’re probably stuck on the shelf. Pots get used. They get banged around. They get dings. They get chipped. They get left out overnight. Ministry pots aren’t saved for special occasions; these pots are for every day use. They’re valuable to the degree they are worn out carrying good stuff (treasure) to people.
A second observation, pot ministry is primarily about being used up and worn out, not about being broken. For example, you can empty a pot that’s full of expensive oil in (at least) two ways: pour out the oil or smash the pot. There is something spectacular about smashing it; it can be quite a show with shards flying through the air. But smashing the pot is one and done, and it tends brings attention to the pot. That’s what we think would make us valuable. We’re such proud slaves that when we hear about our pot positions, we’re angling to be broken in a way that shows us off.
God does break some of His pots in spectacular ways, but most of his pots are just worn out through daily use. It would actually be easier to be broken, or at least it would be quicker. But there is a divinely designed process of patiently pouring out, filling up, and pouring out again.
Verse 10 includes another dependent participle that sheds light on clay pot ministry, but I’ve separated it because it doesn’t follow the “but not” pairs and it includes a number of modifiers.
always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.
This part of ministry is a paradox, and it may also be the pinnacle of the process; the process described in verses 8-9 amounts to a life of dying. Dying is an abridged reference to suffering because all of life’s afflictions get us thinking about the end of life and the end of our afflictions.
It’s a paradox because it seems self-contradictory that carrying the dying of Jesus reveals the life of Jesus. This paradox dominates the rest of the paragraph, so we can’t skip it.
Note the instrument is our bodies, used twice. Our bodies carry the dying of Jesus, our bodies reveal the life of Jesus. That’s part of why I think the treasure is ministry, not merely a message. It takes a life to do this and the process confirms, it’s “always” happening, not only during worship services or Bible studies or quiet times or programmed evangelism.
Carrying about is a vivid image. Men carried sick people on beds to Jesus so that He might heal them (Mark 6:55). In a figurative way, men are carried about by every wind of doctrine (cf. Ephesians 4:14; Hebrews 13:9). False teaching has a way of moving people. Clay pots are to be moved by the dying of Jesus.
I keep saying “dying” instead of “death” of Jesus because the word in verse 10 emphasizes the process, not the event. Our carrying about is ongoing, so it isn’t a one time finishes all behavior. We’re not dead yet.
The paradox is that when clay pots are in the rotation so much that their usefulness is being used up, then they are most useful.
When we die to our schedule (think: good Samaritan), to our comfort, to our budget, to our convenience, to our preferred bedtime, to our privacy, to our expectations, then we’ll see life grow around us. When we are carrying about the death of Jesus in our bodies, we are at that time showing the life of Jesus in our bodies. No dying for Jesus is wasted. That’s the reality.
As if Paul anticipated that we might question the logic of weakness showing power, and of dying showing life, he provides an explanation in verse 11, For (γὰρ).
For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be manifested in our mortal flesh.
The living are dying and dying shows off the life of Jesus. We who live, or, “we, the ones living” includes all those who are spiritually alive, and so it refers to all believers. Paul’s discussion of ministry thus far primarily consisted of his apostolic calling and the work of his partners but this clearly pulls every believer into the ministry of dying.
The living ones are always being given over, or, “delivered over” to death. “Given over” is an official term, as when a prisoner or criminal is sentenced and handed over to the court for punishment or imprisonment. We who live have been given a death sentence. We are assigned a life to death. Why?
Two incentives. First, for Jesus’ sake (διὰ Ἰησοῦν). This is the same phrase as in verse 5. We’re slaves because of, or for the sake of, Jesus. Now, we are being given over to death for Jesus’ sake. His incarnation was the ultimate living for dying to give life. He gave His life for our sake (salvation), and we give up our life for His sake (ministry).
Second, mortal, weak, dispensable flesh shows off the life of Jesus. The second half of verse 11 basically repeats the last part of verse 10, substituting “flesh” for “body” and adding “mortal” or merely human. Paul says essentially nothing new in verse 11 than he said in verse 10. The repetition of thought verifies the importance of the principle.
This is how things work in God’s economy. A daily dying for Jesus’ life, shows off His life. In our economy, living leads to more living, dying leads to being overlooked.
Paul’s summarizes the point of the paragraph.
So death is at work in us, but life in you.
So (ὥστε) is bringing the point of the paragraph to the surface for one last look-see. The result of personal, painful, patient being-used-up ministry is that death is at work working life. This is the actual outcome, this is what occurred, not what he hoped for. Death is at work in us, but life [is at work] in you. “Death” condenses all of the suffering, the life of difficulty. We are liable to death, but before that, we’re tired, exhausted, overwhelmed, hurting, almost lost. That brings life. And “life” is more than breath, life is blessing.
Again, it isn’t our death, it is our dying. Death is at work, death is working. Our life, as slaves, ebbs away into others. As we’re emptied out, others are filled up. As we lose our lives, others find life. There is no sarcasm on Paul’s part, only celebration. The result of dying is life giving. That is motivation.
A few thoughts in review.
Difficulties in ministry are not necessarily barriers to ministry. Most of the time, ministry difficulties are occasions for ministry breakthroughs. The difference between a concrete wall and a concrete foundation is the angle. Obstacles become platforms with God’s surpassing power.
It seems like every great sailing story involves a storm and a smiling captain. You feel for the crew being battered by brutal conditions. So why is the captain smiling? Because strong winds move ships if the sails catch it right. A storm is an advantage to a skilled seaman. We’re land-lovers when it comes to trouble, and we often miss ministry because of it.
Also, a life of dying for sake of giving life is as much or more a practice as it is a profession. Your talk talks and your walk talks but your walk talks a whole lot louder than your talk talks. Big talkers who protect their lives are suspect. Don’t be a reluctant or self-pitying giver of your life either.
Also, for believers, a difficult life is not a destroyed life. For unbelievers, a difficult life is difficult and the beginnings of destruction. You are at the edge and you have no safety harness. Suffering leads to ministry for those who serve Christ; suffering is only misery for those who serve themselves.
Finally, be content to be worn out in His service. You may be spectacularly broken, but probably not. Most of us will fall apart over a long, drawn out life of use rather than be smashed in a moment. Must of us will be exhausted from late nights. Our testimonies will probably have more tears and sweat than prison and swords. The accumulation of aches and pains will get us before assassination attempts. Ours will be a death of a thousand little heart attacks instead of being burned at the stake. But the principle is no less effectual: when death is at work in us, life is also at work. When that happens, there’s no explanation except for God’s surpassing power.
We can’t change a culture by having someone else do it for us. More specifically, we can’t change a culture by having someone else do the dying for us. We can’t change a culture by buying it on Amazon. This isn’t a call to do something extraordinary, it is a call to be exhausted and let His excellent power work to bring life.