Earthen Vessels

“But we hold this treasure in earthen vessels, that the surpassing power may be of God and not from us.” 2 Cor 4:7

St. Paul speaks with remarkable honesty about the fragile condition of human life and discipleship. We are, he says, like jars of clay, earthen vessels—ordinary, breakable, imperfect. And yet, within us is a treasure: the presence and power of the Risen Christ. The contrast is deliberate. God’s glory is not hidden by our weakness—it shines through it.

St. James, the son of Zebedee and brother of John, was among the first called by Jesus. He was also one of the first to drink the cup of martyrdom. Though chosen and close to Christ—present at the Transfiguration and in the Garden of Gethsemane—James was not a perfect man. Along with his brother, he once asked for a place of honor in Christ’s Kingdom (cf. Mark 10:37). Matthew’s gospel has his mother make the request. Yet it was precisely through the transformation of his ambitions, through suffering and service, that James became a true vessel of the Gospel.

Paul continues, “We are afflicted in every way, but not constrained; perplexed, but not driven to despair… always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our body.” (vv. 8, 10)

Christian life is not an escape from suffering; it is a path through suffering toward resurrection. Like James, we are called to remain near the Cross, to carry the dying of Jesus in our own bodies—through sacrifice, endurance, and fidelity. But we also carry His life. The trials we face are not the end of the story. The final word belongs to grace.

Paul ends with a word of hope and purpose: “Everything indeed is for you, so that the grace bestowed in abundance on more and more people may cause the thanksgiving to overflow for the glory of God.” (v. 15)

Our trials, our witness, even our weaknesses can serve God’s glory when offered in faith. We do not need to be flawless—we need to be faithful. Like James and so many CHristian before us, we are called to recognize the treasure within, to proclaim the Resurrection with courage, and to let thanksgiving overflow from our lives.


Image credit: Pexels and Canva | Roman Odenstov | CC-BY

Prayer: the midnight visitor

This coming Sunday is the 17th Sunday in Lectionary Cycle C. Jesus presents a parable following the lesson on how to pray:

5 And he said to them, “Suppose one of you has a friend to whom he goes at midnight and says, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread, 6 for a friend of mine has arrived at my house from a journey and I have nothing to offer him,’ 7 and he says in reply from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door has already been locked and my children and I are already in bed. I cannot get up to give you anything.’ 8 I tell you, if he does not get up to give him the loaves because of their friendship, he will get up to give him whatever he needs because of his persistence.

This parable, which is only found in Luke, is connected to the previous prayer by the words for “bread” (vv. 3, 5) and “give” (vv. 3, 7, 8). The setting is likely a small village where there are no shops. A household would bake its bread each morning. By the end of the day, the household’s supply is used. Now comes the unexpected call. At midnight the man must feed his friend, for hospitality is a sacred duty. So he goes to another friend for three loaves, i.e. three small loaves which would suffice for one man. But this second householder has shut his door and gone to bed with his children. Most families lived in a one-roomed house. The whole family would sleep on a raised platform at one end of such a room. A man in such a situation could not get up without disturbing the whole family. The friend raises no difficulty about giving the bread; the issue is the family already retired. (or perhaps just the bother of getting). 

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