Treasure

And Friday, six stone water pots at a wedding in Cana filled with water and poured out as wine.

Treasure, worship, warfare, provision, and transformation.

Five jars, and I'm convinced, friend, that taken together, they tell the whole story of the Christian life.

So open your Bible with me to 2 Corinthians chapter four, and while you're turning there, let me set the stage, because this verse doesn't float in midair.

Job sat among them and scraped his boils with one.

So Paul takes the most valuable thing in the universe and the least valuable container in the kitchen and puts them in the same sentence.

Treasure in Tupperware.

Glory in a flowerpot.

Piracy offered freedom, autonomy, and captains elected by their own crews.

Treasure was divided fairly.

For desperate men who had nothing, the opportunity to seize wealth was irresistible.

Between 1650 and 1730, piracy became an organized industry with supply lines and strategic planning.

Washington Irving wrote a story about it.

Edgar Allan Poe based The Gold Bug on themes related to buried treasure.

Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island became the most famous pirate story ever written and popularised the idea of maps where an X marked the spot.

They were brilliant works of fiction.

Mm-hmm

... is I think I want someone to have another crack at Treasure Planet, personally.

Okay.

Treasure-

Treasure Planet

...

Tre- Treasure Planet?

Yeah.

As I continued to thread the tall woods, I could hear from far before me not only the continuous thunder of the surf, but a certain tossing of foliage and grinding of boughs, which showed me the sea breeze set in higher than usual.

soon cool draughts of air began to reach me and a few steps farther i came forth into the open borders of the grove and saw the sea lying blue and sunny to the horizon and the surf tumbling and tossing its foam along the beach "'I have never seen the sea quiet round Treasure Island.

The sun might blaze overhead, the air be without a breath, the surface smooth and blue, but still these great rollers would be running along all the external coast, thundering and thundering by day and night, and I scarce believe there is one spot in the island where a man would be out of earshot of their noise.' I walked along beside the surf with great enjoyment, till, thinking I was now got far enough to the south, I took the cover of some thick bushes, and crept warily up to the ridge of the spit.

Behind me was the sea, in front the anchorage.

It was a night out of ten thousand for my purpose.

The fog had now buried all heaven.

As the last rays of daylight dwindled and disappeared, absolute blackness settled down on Treasure Island.

and when at last I shouldered my coracle and groped my way stumblingly out of the hollow where I had supped, there were but two points visible on the whole anchorage.

Even a big hug can be a treasure.

Now, let's sing a song about treasure together.

Treasure, treasure, where are you? We will follow every clue Past the trees and through the sand With our treasure in our hand Treasure, treasure, now we see Friends are treasure, you and me

Wonderful treasure hunting, friends.

I am so proud of you.

They opened it.

Inside were shiny pretend coins, colorful jewels, and two pirate eye patches.

Treasure! Theo cheered.