In 1941, imprisoned at Dachau, Polish craftsman Franz Kempa fashioned a violin from scraps of wood and makeshift tools. Hidden inside was a note:
“Trial instrument, made under difficult conditions . . . Dachau Anno 1941.”
Discovered this year, the “Violin of Hope” still plays. And in its trembling voice, it declares something profound: Resilience is catalyzed when fragile scraps are placed in the hands of a true artist.
Nothing about this makes sense. We assume the most durable instruments are crafted under the finest conditions. We think it’s the quality of the materials that ensures endurance.
But when God crafts leaders who last, he does so with full awareness of the weakness of the material. Because durability was never about us looking strong.
“We have this treasure in jars of clay,” Paul writes, “to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.” (2 Corinthians 4:7 ESV)
Your clay pot has power.
It’s not human power. It’s God’s power. Which means it’s surpassing power—the kind that endures, sustains, and finishes the race.
The Point: We Keep Going
In the Corinthian church, a group of religious showmen flaunted their strength, credentials, and success. They carried themselves like spiritual celebrities. Their charisma masked their self-confidence. And Paul? He had to respond.
But not with a résumé.
Instead, he offered something radically different to explain his qualifications as a leader—a profile in suffering.
“We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed;
perplexed, but not driven to despair;
persecuted, but not forsaken;
struck down, but not destroyed.”
(2 Corinthians 4:8–9)
Let’s break that down:
- Afflicted, but not crushed. Paul feels the relentless pressure of life. He’s squeezed. I’ve had seasons like that—ministry burdens, family crises, unexpected setbacks. But Paul says, “That’s my daily life. And I’m still standing.”
- Perplexed, but not driven to despair. Life brings complexities we can’t solve. Have you ever felt outmatched, inadequate, or flat-out confused? Paul gets it. He lived there.
- Persecuted, but not forsaken. He’s attacked and alone. But not abandoned. Why? Because Jesus was forsaken so we never would be.
- Struck down, but not destroyed. Literally “whacked with a weapon.” Paul’s life was marked by violence, slander, and suffering. But he wasn’t finished. He got back up.
At the core of these contrasts is something stunning: This isn’t a parade of power; it’s a theology of perseverance. Paul isn’t boasting in strength—he’s boasting in survival, fueled by grace.
The Paradox: Death Making Life
Christian ministry is life in a clay jar. It’s not polished. It’s not pristine. It’s painful. “We always carry in the body the death of Jesus,” Paul says. Why? “So that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies” (2 Corinthians 4:10–11).
That’s the paradox: Death in us produces life in others.
God’s strategy isn’t to avoid breaking the pot. His strategy is to display resurrection life through our brokenness.
Maybe this isn’t what you expected. Maybe you signed up for ministry ready to work hard—but not to be afflicted, disoriented, persecuted, or struck.
Leader, hear this: Your suffering is not an obstacle to resilience. It’s the pathway to it. It’s not the enemy of endurance—it’s the engine moving you forward.
“Suffering produces endurance,
and endurance produces character,
and character produces hope.”
(Romans 5:3–4)
~“Count it all joy . . . when you meet trials . . . for you know that
the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.”
(James 1:2–3)
Do you hear the divine conspiracy?
God breaks the pot to shape the soul. Why? Because He doesn’t just want us to just affirm the gospel. He calls us to embody it. This was never about merely preaching the cross. God calls us to carry it too.
That’s why Paul urged Timothy: “Share in suffering for the gospel by the power of God” (2 Timothy 1:8).
A Leader’s Witness in the Fire
Who knew that our suffering would be the very thing that brings life to our witness?
- When your kids see you maligned but not retaliating
- When you suffer loss, endure sleepless nights, and still press on
- When fear buries you, but you answer with courage
Those are crucifixion moments. Moments when you’re being “given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be manifested in your mortal flesh” (2 Corinthians. 4:11).
If you asked me about the greatest surprise of thirty-nine years in leadership, I’d say this: I never knew my strengths could be so dangerous—and my weaknesses so glorious. I never expected that God would use dismantling experiences to forge endurance.
But that’s the conspiracy.
- Your death produces life.
- Your weakness displays power.
- Your loss reveals glory.
That’s the gospel. You see, your pot is not the first to be broken. The clay pot of Christ’s body was broken for our sins. Then Christ rose from death on the third day, revealing a deeper work that toppled the tyranny of death and reversed the ravages of sin. It’s the conspiracy’s origin: God made death produce life.
Snatching life from death. That’s the strategy of our Savior. And that’s why: We do not lose heart (2 Corinthians 4:16).
The ClayPot Conspiracy
When you signed on for ministry leadership, you didn’t realize there would be a clause. The suffering and sadness, fatigue and feebleness, troubles and trauma, are all a part of a conspiracy. The author calls it The Clay Pot Conspiracy: Our weakness + God’s power = Resilient ministry. It is God’s plan to use what we lack to build perseverance and press us to embody the gospel we preach.