Weakness is victory

At one point in his ministry, the Apostle Paul was being unfavorably compared to false teachers. The Christians at Corinth were immature and worldly so listened to spectacular but false claims. Paul seemed to know that the only way to defend himself (and more so, the true message of God) was by letting them know a few things about himself. He didn’t want to boast, but knew they would listen if he did.

Whenever I’ve had someone push me and I pushed back with boasting, it was not in defense of anything other than my own pride. As I read 2 Corinthians 10-12, I can see that Paul was not prideful. He was very concerned that the Christians in Corinth were being led astray. They would not listen to him speaking in humility. He must tell them about his extreme experiences as a true laborer for Christ.

After two and a half chapters that included the number of times he’d been beaten, chased out of town, and extended beyond human strength, he told them of visions and revelations, even then being careful to not make his stories more about him than Jesus Christ. Then he wrote these words . . . 

So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:7–10)

Paul was an amazing man. He’d likely seen more and done more for Christ than anyone. Yet God knew the danger of pride. When Paul was still Saul and without Christ, pride was his supreme problem. Lest he fall back into that, God did something that kept him from conceit and ruin his ministry.

Theories abound regarding the nature of this “thorn in the flesh.” Some think it was an eye problem or other physical ailment. Others think it was a demon who lived in one of the false teachers who provided constant harassment. Whatever it was, God would not take it away because it had a divine purpose for being in the Apostle’s life.

Over the past few weeks, life has been a bit thorny for me too. I’ve been preparing and teaching a class on outreach and evangelism, but under pressure. I’ve been tested and pressured on some topics before now, but this one seems to have painted a larger bull’s eye on my head. The insults, hardships, persecutions and calamities are not from other humans though. They are more like stabs at my thinking from that true enemy who will tell lies and try to destroy all that is good.

In this battle, I’ve never felt weaker, spiritually and even some days physically. The task of lesson preparation, which I’ve been doing for decades, never seemed more difficult. I’ve procrastinated, filled with fear that it would not come together. I’ve thought things like: the class will hate it, or no one will learn anything from this, and worse.

Besides that, when I am finally able to get going on the work, the phone hasn’t stopped ringing, or the doorbell, or some other interruption. While all of these could be considered normal, an onslaught is not. It seems all designed to unscrew my head.

I’ve prayed and prayed. When it seems that there is no time or energy left and the lesson material is more like words in a blender, suddenly the Holy Spirit puts me in a bubble. Instead of chaos, the ideas gel and the words start to make sense. I am totally in awe of God.

I understand what it means for God’s grace to be sufficient in weakness. He comes to my side and helps me when I am most desperate. He never lets me down — even though He often lets me dangle.

The worst of this verse is the little word “in” that conveys the idea that power does not follow weakness. Instead, both happen at the same time. As I’ve told my class when we discuss this reality, other people might see the power of God, but Paul (and sometimes I also) feel the horrible, debilitating but totally necessary weakness — in which there is not a single thing to boast about except that this is where God wants me. It is the only condition that I can be in where I do not interfere with what He is doing.

I don’t much feel like glorying in my weakness. Having my head mushy isn’t much to boast about. It is certain that I’ve really nothing else to brag about either, except one sure thing: my God is totally amazing.