Jan 17 2020 2 Corinthians 4: 5-7

It started when God said, “Light up the darkness!” and our lives filled up with light as we saw and understood God in the face of Christ, all bright and beautiful. If you only look at us, you might well miss the brightness. We carry this precious Message around in the unadorned clay pots of our ordinary lives. That’s to prevent anyone from confusing God’s incomparable power with us.

I love this idea of us holding God’s light and love in our ordinary lives, likened to unadorned clay pots. On a walk down the street, on the bus, or at my job, I’m surrounded by people. All of them are unadorned clay pots. All of them are filled with God’s light and love. Clay pots, unlike glass jars, are obscure. You can’t see what’s inside, and we’re best not to presume to know what’s inside.

This morning’s pre-trip reflection is about being God’s presence while on the trip, being in community with the people there. The author argues that it’s not about the money; even if they need money, they also need our presence. We are Christ’s hands and feet, eyes and heart. The difference is that we have the luxury of going, of spending the money it takes to go to far flung places to share God’s light and love. 

Tomorrow morning early, I leave for a week to Guatemala. I have had a tumultuous month, and am exceedingly glad to be able to go. I am grateful for the opportunity to travel, to see old friends and make new ones.

This morning, I’m thinking about unadorned earthenware pots. About how they’re functional, carrying important contents, and they’re opaque, so you can’t tell what’s in them. I’m thinking about my sick loved one, who’s pot is a little cracked these days, but how it still contains amazing light and love. I’m thinking about all of the people I’ll meet in country, and I want to be sure to remember they too are earthenware pots.

And now, off to pack.