“Useful Vessels” (part 2) of “Everybody is Somebody”

One of the things I enjoy about being a pastor is to see how God works everything out for the good of those who love Him. And this is not just for individuals but also for churches. I do not believe God does things by coincidence. I believe has brought you here to Fortress Church for a purpose. I believe that God wants to minister to you. And I also believe that God wants you to minister to others.

   Sometimes, I picture the Body of Christ as a big puzzle. And each of us happens to be a piece to that puzzle.  If one of us does not fulfill his/her role in the Body of Christ, then a void is left.

   That’s why it is so important for you and I to realize that Everybody of Somebody!! God has called you to be a Useful Vessel.

2 Timothy 2:20, 21

²⁰In a large house there are articles not only of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay; some are for noble purposes and some for ignoble. ²¹If a man cleanses himself from the latter, he will be an instrument for noble purposes, made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work.

(pray)

This scripture in 2 Timothy 2:20, 21 teaches us that there are two types of vessels in a house. Today, as God looks out into this congregation, He sees two types of vessels in this house.

Some of us are vessels of honor that He can use for His kingdom. Others of us are vessels of dishonor who are not ready for God to use. So, with the question is . . . who does God use for the greater purpose of His kingdom?

1) God uses ordinary people

I love the Bible. And when I read the Bible, I learn how God uses ordinary people for His purposes. Imperfect people. Noah was a drunk; Abraham was old and a liar; Sarah laughed at God’s promises; Jacob was a deceiver; Leah was ugly. Joseph was abused; Moses had a stuttering problem and a short fuse;

God uses ordinary people. Miriam was a gossip; Gideon was afraid; Samson had long hair and was a womanizer; Jeremiah and Timothy were too young. Naomi was a widow; Job went bankrupt; David wasn’t even considered leadership material – his dad didn’t even consider him. Then he committed adultery; Solomon was too rich. Elijah was burned-out and suicidal;

God uses ordinary people. Jeremiah was depressed; Jonah ran from God; Hosea’s wife was a prostitute. John the Baptist ate bugs; Martha worried about everything; the Samaritan woman was divorced, more than once; Peter denied Christ; Thomas doubted; Zaccheus was short; John Mark was rejected by Paul; Paul himself was too religious, plus, he was a murderer, as were Moses and David. And of course, Lazarus was dead. But, today, God still uses ordinary people.

You don’t have to have a college degree.

You don’t have to be a Bible scholar.

You don’t have to be thin and buff like Pastor Dennis.

You don’t have to have a testimony of how God pulled you out of a lifestyle of drugs.

God uses ordinary people . . people like you.

The Cracked Pot

A Water Bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on each end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master’s house, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and one half pots of water in his master’s house.

The perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the Water Bearer one day by the stream. “I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you.” “Why?” asked the bearer. “What are you ashamed of?” “I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master’s house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don’t get full value from your efforts,” the pot said.

The Water Bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, “As we return to the master’s house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path.” Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again it apologize to the bearer for its failure. The bearer said to the pot, “Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other pot’s side? That’s because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you’ve watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master’s table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house.”

Each of us has our own unique flaws. We’re all cracked pots. But if we will allow it, the Lord will use our flaws to grace His Father’s table. In God’s great economy, nothing goes to waste. So as we seek ways to minister together, and as God calls you to tasks He has appointed for you, don’t be afraid of your flaws. Acknowledge them, and allow Him to take advantage of them, and you, too, can be the cause of beauty in His pathway. Go out boldly, knowing that in our weakness we find His strength, and that “In Him every one of God’s promises is a Yes.”

2) God uses willing hearts

Be shepherds of God's flock that is under your care, serving as overseers—not because you must, but because you are willing, as God wants you to be; not greedy for money, but eager to serve.” I Peter 5:2

Can you imagine how things in history would be different if certain people didn’t have a willing heart?

When someone doesn’t have a willing heart, they may say something like, “I don’t do windows.”

I sure am glad that Noah was willing to do what God called him to do. To build a boat.

It would have been sad if Noah told God, “I don’t do boats.”

I sure am glad that Paul was willing to write letters.

It would have been sad if Paul told God, “I don’t write letters.”

I’m glad David didn't say, "I don't do giants"?

I’m glad that John the Baptist didn't say, "I don't do baptisms"?

And young Mary, when the angel came to her, I am so glad she didn’t say, "Excuse me, I don't do virgin births."

I’m glad that Peter didn't say, "I don't do Gentiles"?

And I’m so glad that Jesus didn't say, "I don't do crosses"?

God simply wants a willing heart.

3) God uses broken vessels

Psalm 51:17   The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

a) Useful vessels must be cleansed.

2 Timothy 2:20, 21 (NIV) ²⁰In a large house there are articles not only of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay; some are for noble purposes and some for ignoble. ²¹If a man cleanses himself from the latter, he will be an instrument for noble purposes, made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work.

2 Timothy 2:21 (The Amplified Bible) ²¹So whoever cleanses himself [from what is ignoble and unclean, who separates himself from contact with contaminating and corrupting influences] will [then himself] be a vessel set apart and useful for honorable and noble purposes, consecrated and profitable to the Master, fit and ready for any good work.

The Contemporary English Version:

  ²⁰In a large house some dishes are made of gold or silver, while others are made of wood or clay. Some of these are special, and others are not. ²¹That's also how it is with people. The ones who stop doing evil and make themselves pure will become special. Their lives will be holy and pleasing to their Master, and they will be able to do all kinds of good deeds.

With a strong forearm, the apron-clad blacksmith puts his tongs into the fire, grasps the heated metal and places it on his anvil. His keen eye examines the glowing piece. He sees what the tool is now and envisions what he wants it to be – sharper, flatter, wider, longer. With a clear picture in his mind, he begins to pound. His left hand still clutching the hot mass with the tongs, the right hand slams the two –pound sledge upon the moldable metal.

On the solid anvil, the smoldering iron is remolded.

The smith knows the type of instrument he wants. He knows the size. He knows the shape. He knows the strength.

Wham! Wham! The hammer slams. The shop rings with noise, the air fills with smoke and the softened metal responds.

But the response doesn’t come easily. It doesn’t come without discomfort. To melt down the old and recast it as new is not easy. Yes, the metal remains on the anvil, allowing the toolmaker to remove the scars, repair the cracks, refill the voids, and purge the impurities.

Then the blacksmith stops. He ceases his pounding and sets down the hammer. With a strong left arm, he lifts the tongs until the freshly molded metal is at eye level. In the still silence he examines the smoking tool.

He keenly searches for mars or cracks.

There are none.  (From: “On the Anvil” by Max Lucado)

Now, the Master can finally see his reflection.

Now, light shines where it once was dark.

What was once dull is now sharpened.

What was crooked becomes straight.

What was weak becomes strong;

And what was useless now becomes valuable.

“In the shop of a blacksmith, there are three types of tools. There are tools on the junkpile: outdated, broken, dull, rusty. They sit in the cobwebbed corner, useless to their master, oblivious to their calling.
There are tools on the anvil: melted down, molten hot, moldable, changeable. They lie on the anvil, being shaped by their master, accepting their calling.
There are tools of usefulness: sharpened, primed, defined, mobile
They lie ready in the blacksmith’s tool chest, available to their master, fulfilling their calling.
Some people lie useless: lives broken, talents wasting, fires quenched, dreams dashed. They are tossed in with the scrap iron, in desperate need of repair, with no notion of purpose.
Others lie on the anvil: hearts open, hungry to change, wounds healing, visions clearing. They welcome the painful pounding of the blacksmith’s hammer, longing to be rebuilt, begging to be called.
Others lie in their Master’s hands: well tuned, uncompromising, polished, productive. They respond to their Master’s forearm, demanding nothing, surrendering all” (from, On the Anvil, by Max Lucado).

b) Useful vessels must be broken.

THE BAMBOO SERVANT
Once upon a time, in the heart of an ancient Kingdom, there was a beautiful garden. And there, in the cool of the day, the Master of the garden would walk. Of all the plants of the garden, the most beautiful and beloved was a gracious and noble bamboo.
Year after year, Bamboo grew yet more noble and gracious, conscious of his Master's love and watchful delight. And often when the wind came to revel in the garden, Bamboo would dance and play, tossing and swaying and leaping and bowing in joyous abandon, leading the Great Dance of the garden, which most delighted the Master's heart.
One day, the Master himself drew near to contemplate his Bamboo with eyes of curious expectancy. And Bamboo, in a passion of adoration, bowed his great head to the ground in loving greeting. The Master spoke: "Bamboo, I would use you." Bamboo flung his head to the sky in utter delight. The day of days had come, the day for which he had been made, the day to which he had been growing hour by hour, the day in which he would find his completion and his destiny. His voice came low: "Master, I'm ready. Use me as you wish."
"Bamboo, I would have to take you and cut you down."
A trembling of great horror shook Bamboo. "Cut--me--down? Me...whom you, Master, has made the most beautiful in all your Garden--cut me down? Oh, not that. Not that. Use me for the joy, use me for the glory, oh Master, but do not cut me down!"
"Beloved Bamboo," The Master's voice grew graver still "If I do not cut you down, I cannot use you."
The garden grew still. Wind held his breath. Bamboo slowly bent his proud and glorious head. There was a whisper: "Master, if you cannot use me other than to cut me down, then do your will and cut."
"Bamboo, beloved Bamboo, I would also cut your leaves and branches from you."
"Master, spare me. Cut me down and lay my beauty in the dust; but would you also have to take from me my leaves and branches too?"
"Bamboo, if I do not cut them away, I cannot use you."
The Sun hid his face. A listening butterfly glided fearfully away. And Bamboo shivered in terrible expectancy, whispering low: "Master, cut away"
"Bamboo, Bamboo, I would yet split you in two and cut out your heart, for if I cut not so, I cannot use you."
Then Bamboo bowed to the ground: "Master, Master--then cut and split."
So did the Master of the garden took Bamboo and cut him down, hacked off his branches, stripped off his leaves, split him in two and cut out his heart. And lifting him gently, the Master carried Bamboo to where there was a spring of fresh sparkling water in the midst of his dry fields. Then putting one end of the broken Bamboo in the spring and the other end into the water channel in the field, the Master gently laid down his beloved Bamboo. And the spring sang welcome, and the clear sparkling waters raced joyously down the channel of Bamboo's torn body into the waiting fields.
Then the rice was planted, and the days went by, and the shoots grew and the harvest came. In that day Bamboo, once so glorious in his stately beauty, was yet more glorious in his brokenness and humility. For in his beauty he was life abundant, but in his brokenness and humility he became a channel of abundant life to his Master's world.
 

c) Useful vessels are prepared by God to do His work.

God knows what He is doing in your life.

Do you trust Him?

Perhaps He has allowed you to face certain issues and even painful situations for a reason. Could it be that God is using those things to prepare you to do His work?

God knows what He is doing.

Do you believe that He had given you certain spiritual gifts for a reason?

There was a couple who used to go to England to shop in the beautiful stores. They both liked antiques and pottery and especially teacups. This was their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. One day in this beautiful shop they saw a beautiful teacup. They said, "May we see that? We’ve never seen one quite so beautiful." As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke. "You don’t understand," it said. "I haven’t always been a teacup. There was a time when I was red and I was clay. My master took me and rolled me and patted me over and over and I yelled out, ’Let me alone’, but he only smiled, ’Not yet.’ "Then I was placed on a spinning wheel," the teacup said, "and suddenly I was spun around and around and around. Stop it! I’m getting dizzy? I screamed. But the master only nodded and said, ’Not yet.’ Then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I wondered why he wanted to burn me, and I yelled and knocked at the door. I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips and he shook his head, ’Not yet.’ Finally the door opened, he put me on the shelf, and I began to cool. ’There, that’s better’, I said. And he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. ’Stop it, stop it!’ I cried. He only nodded, ’Not yet.’ Then suddenly he put me back into the oven, not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. All the time I could see him through the opening nodding his head saying, ’Not yet.’ Then I knew there wasn’t any hope. I would never make it. I was ready to give up. But the door opened and he took me out and placed me on the shelf. One hour later He handed me a mirror and I couldn’t believe it was me. ’It’s beautiful. I’m beautiful.’ ’I want you to remember, then,’ he said, ’I know it hurts to be rolled and patted, but if I had left you alone, you would have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I knew it hurt and was hot and disagreeable in the oven but if I hadn’t put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad and when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn’t done that, you never would have hardened; you would not have had any color in your life. And if I hadn’t put you back in that second oven, you wouldn’t survive for very long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. You are what I had in mind when I first began with you.

 

Is the worship service done? No, your service of worship is just beginning!