The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all. Amen.
Romania was one of the first countries to free itself from the Eastern Bloc of the USSR, from Communist rule, in 1989. The people rose up and deposed the bloody dictator Ceausescu. But do you know what actually started this historic moment in the Eastern Bloc, what began this exodus and the crumbling of the USSR? It was the offense taken at the preaching of the Gospel of Jesus Christ by one pastor, one simple pastor, Laszlo Tokes.
Pastor Tokes was a pastor of a Hungarian church in Timisoara. He was a bit of a newcomer to Romania. He’d only been there a short time when the government showed up with armed forces and tried to force him and his wife into a moving van to send him back where he came from. He didn’t go. He preached and taught the biblical text. He was well known for that. He taught boldly and confidently, without compromise, and he made a particularly strong effort to evangelize, to bring into the church young people throughout the country. Consequently the small church that God had called him to swelled to some 5,000 members in just a couple of years, a very short period of time.
The growth of the church, and Tokes’ own congregation in particular, was now seen as a threat to the Soviet Communist government. So they hired thugs to go in and rough him up and threaten him, in an effort to silence him from preaching the biblical text, the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and love and good works toward one’s neighbor. When he refused to fall silent and continued to preach, they cut off his food rations from the government. When that didn’t silence him, police were stationed outside the church on Sundays and other days when people would come to congregate there. The police attempted to intimidate and threaten the congregants away, but they wouldn’t be threatened. They just kept coming to church.
Finally the police decided it was time to arrest him and deal with him decisively. But when they came to arrest Pastor Tokes, they were met by members of his church and other Christians who came from other Christian congregations throughout the city. The police tried to disperse the people, but they remained steadfast. They held their ground all night long. One 19-year-old college student, Daniel Gabra, lit a candle, and several others followed suit. Soon they were passing candles among themselves, and when they ran out of those, people returned home to get their own candles or off to a store to buy them. Pretty soon darkness had fallen over the church, but then the glow of candlelight and peaceful protest and the singing of Christian hymns and the speaking of Christian liturgy rang through the night. After two nights the police broke through the crowd, beat Pastor Tokes, and carried him off to jail.
The attack on the Christians soon led to political unrest throughout the entire country of Romania, and that brought out the army. In the hours that followed, hundreds were shot and many were killed. The bravery of the congregation inspired the people of Romania to stand up, and within days Ceausescu was dead. And the 19-year-old Daniel lay in the hospital with only one leg; the other had been blown off in the initial attack of the army. When Daniel was in the hospital learning how to walk with an artificial limb, his pastor came to visit him and expressed sympathy over Daniel’s lost leg. But Daniel responded to the pastor: “Pastor, I don’t mind so much the loss of a leg. After all, it was I who lit the first candle.”
The Christians of Timisoara were hard pressed on account of their faith, but they were not crushed. I’m sure there were moments when they were in doubt about their faith, but they did not despair. They were persecuted, but they were not destroyed. The light of their candles and the light of the Gospel would not be extinguished by the brutality of a Communist government. The light came into the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.
In the apostolic and early church, Christians also struggled with the reality of Christian suffering. Consider St. Paul himself. He endured a great deal of hardship throughout his ministry. He was arrested several times, beaten, imprisoned, run out of town more than a few times. His suffering for the faith yielded more faith. He endured, and his faith grew stronger and more pure, as by a refiner’s fire.
Some critics at the time of St. Paul said that his suffering discounted the legitimacy of his ministry. If he were really an apostle sent by the one true God, they argued, such things would never have happened to St. Paul. But since they did, it proved God was not with him. So the argument went. Paul responded to that argument with what Lutherans call a theology of the cross. Verses 8 and 9: “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.”
Suffering in the life of the Christian, you see, has a purpose. It’s God-ordained and God-purifying. A Christian does not suffer for suffering’s sake. It happens because we manifest the death and the life of Jesus Christ in our own bodies, and it has a purpose: to purify our faith and to provide a witness to those who see us.
But even Paul himself calls himself, and all Christians by extension, a jar of clay, simple earthenware. Verse 7: “But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.” What’s the treasure? The light of the knowledge of the glory of God in Jesus Christ. We have this treasure in clay jars, to show the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.
Paul is writing about all of us. He uses the plural “we” in this passage. We, you and me and all Christians, are on the outside jars of clay, simple earthen vessels. We will all be afflicted, perplexed, persecuted, struck down, and given over to death at various times of our Christian journey in this world. And yet we are merely earthen vessels, but given the very light of Jesus Christ and the glory of God.
Christ took our form of clay. He too became one of us, an earthen vessel. We are made of the dust of the earth, clay, and so also He was made of the dust of the earth, clay, so that we might become lightened vessels, vessels that carry the very life of Christ, so that Christ could carry the darkness of our sin unto the cross. We suffer afflictions, persecution, illness, and death, but we are comforted, because in all of this Christ overcame such things for us and in our stead. Hebrews 4:15: “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.”
He died on a cross and He was buried in a tomb, just like any other earthen vessel. His vessel of clay was bruised for us, and at His bruising He crushed the head of the serpent. Death could not hold the Son of God. He rose in victory over the accusers and the persecutors, over the devil, the world, and our old sinful nature. In so doing, Jesus fills the vessels of clay, His brothers and sisters, with the glorious light of the Gospel, and He transforms us in the eyes of His heavenly Father.
When we are suffering, we always ask the “why me” question. It’s a kind of unchristian question to entertain. Why me? Why suffering? My answer is: why not you? Why not your suffering? Are you special in some way that God would spare you the sufferings of an ordinary Christian in this world? We are His, so that He can do with us what it pleases Him. We are the clay, the Scripture says; He is the Potter. That’s Jeremiah, the entire chapter 18. We are His to do with as He sees is good and pleasing in His sight.
Listen to what Paul wrote in Romans 9:20-21 on this topic: “But who are you, O man, to answer back to God? Will what is molded say to its molder, ‘Why have you made me like this?’ Has the potter no right over the clay, to make out of the same lump one vessel for honorable use and another for dishonorable use?” You see, we are simple jars of clay, earthenware, but God has filled us with the righteousness of Christ. And that is what the light is in the earthen vessel: the very righteousness, the holiness, the innocence, the blessedness of Jesus Christ. It’s given to us, this life, through the Word and Sacrament ministry of the Church, and the light is given to all that are called, gathered, enlightened, and sanctified.
It’s true, we are also broken vessels, humble vessels. Our value and glory is hidden from both us and the rest of the world. We don’t even see this glory of God, this light of Christ, in ourselves. But in the sight of God the Father, we are the very image-bearers of His Son, Jesus Christ, vessels redeemed and vessels put into His service for the sake of Christ and for the sake of our neighbors.
In many city quarters in India, vendors sell a simple cup filled with masala tea in exchange for a few pennies. Customers drink the tea, then surprisingly toss the clay cup into the street. The cup had but one purpose in this world and in this life: to serve that simple cup of tea to one passing by. Now that it had served its purpose, it’s simply discarded and broken in the street. Later in the day, when the traffic dies down, those cups are scooped up, they’re cleaned up, they’re soaked in water, and then a potter remakes them into a new vessel, and it starts all over again.
So also for us in this world: we have been made of clay, vessels for one purpose, to serve God and neighbor in true Christian faith and true Christian love. When our service is finished, we are set aside in a grave to await the resurrection, the recreation of us as new vessels with new bodies in a new heaven and a new earth. But the world sees us as simply clay jars undergoing decay, and we ourselves see that our clay is dull, it’s drying up, it’s cracking as time moves on. We ourselves question our own value and legitimacy, our purpose for which we have been called, gathered, enlightened, and sanctified and made into the very image of Jesus Christ.
But we are the light-bearers. We, these earthen vessels, whom God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit has transformed into the very image of Jesus Christ, He makes us useful, beautiful sons and daughters, children of the heavenly Father, by way of Christ’s very life, death, resurrection, and ascension. But as Paul wrote, the light of Christ remains in mortal flesh, even though our clay vessels, mortal flesh, must struggle against sin, death, and the power of the devil. We are always carrying around in us, verse 11 says, the very death, the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, His love and service for humanity, so that the life of Christ, His love, faith, and hope, and His service to His neighbor, is made manifest in us, in our mortal flesh.
Though our bodies are but fragile and passing away, they’ve been washed with the water of Holy Baptism. God, who is the Potter, will one day remake our bodies in the resurrection. We will be raised to glory, the glory of Christ, with God the Father who fills all in all, and all throughout eternity. In this life, you see, we’re going to be afflicted, we’re going to be perplexed, persecuted, struck down. We’re always going to carry with us the death of our Christ on the cross. But we are clay jars filled with the light of Christ. “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” That is, we are carrying around in us the very death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, what is now humble clay vessels, the Potter will recreate into an eternal beauty, perfect and holy, pure light. As John said: “In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” The darkness of sin in the world cannot turn the light of God’s Word even into the simplest shade of gray.
In chapter 4 of 2 Corinthians, verse 1, just three verses before the one we began with this morning, we read: “Therefore, having this ministry by the mercy of God, we do not lose heart.” Though we suffer with all the common ailments of sinful humanity, and may at times experience persecution, and one day we will, we never lose heart. For we have the light of Christ. Our sins have been forgiven, and our light shines before men. Amen.
May the peace that surpasses all understanding keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.