The Strength of Weakness
By Jack Wyman
Ouch!
It hurt.
It irritated, distracted, and annoyed. We don’t know what it was. It could have been any number of things. An ailment. An affliction of some kind. It may have been a disability.
Whatever it was, it was a besetting and stubborn infirmity.
Maybe you’ve had one. Treatments are difficult, healing elusive, relapses frequent, and pain constant. You suffer through with it, hoping and praying for its imminent departure.
He described it as “a thorn in my flesh.” That would indicate it was a physical malady. The subject of its identity has been a “thorny” issue ever since it appeared in a story the Apostle Paul shared in his second letter to the Corinthians.
The “thorn” remains a permanent mystery but that hasn’t stopped theologians from speculating. It’s a classic case of fluttering around distinctions that make no real difference.
The apostle wrote about the rare and beautiful spiritual visions he had been privileged to witness. Paul said he “was caught up to paradise and heard things so astounding that they cannot be expressed in words. . .” (II Corinthians 12:4). It was an experience “worth boasting about,” but Paul would be reluctant to boast. He could, and it would be true—no brag, just fact.
He resisted the temptation to boast “because I don’t want anyone to give me credit beyond what they can see in my life or hear in my message” (II Corinthians 12:6). Paul didn’t want to be a Christian celebrity. It was the gospel that mattered, not human achievement.
Boasting is pride in action, an appeal to the talents, opportunities, and good fortunes of men and women who are quick to take credit but slow to thank God. God then becomes man’s prop on a stage of man’s own making.
It was in this context that Paul explained his thorn.
“To keep me from becoming proud. . .” he writes in verse 7.
There it is—the ominous danger of the untried and untested man. He’s never been down so he’s always on top. The cloudless skies of his life have made him invincible in his destiny, or so he thinks.
The transformation of King Nebuchadnezzar recorded in Daniel Chapter 4, from a man of pride to one of humility, was brought about through suffering. Pride is the greatest sin, one of the easiest to commit because it’s the most difficult to recognize.
“. . . I was given a thorn in my flesh. . .” (verse 7).
It was, Paul writes, “a messenger from Satan to torment me and keep me from becoming proud” (verse 7, emphasis added). It seems ironic that Paul would blame the devil—the author of pride—for sending this painful thorn to keep Paul from becoming proud. Satan meant this for evil. God used it for good. The nature and source of the thorn, however, pale in comparison to the purpose and result of its work.
Here is the eternal meaning of this story.
The apostle pleaded with God three times to remove this thorn in his flesh. Each time, God’s answer was the same: “My grace is all you need (“sufficient” in the KJV). My power works best in weakness” (verse 9, emphasis added).
God’s strength and his help are bestowed upon those who, in their frailty, acknowledge their dependence, not on their own resources, but on God’s power. It is when you and I are down that we can most clearly look up.
Paul was fervent in his prayers, and he completely believed God could heal him. There is no evidence in this passage, or anywhere in Paul’s writings, that he believed he could have prayed with more faith and been healed. And that the failure to be healed was his own fault. Paul’s persistence in prayer is more than ample evidence of his sincerity and conviction.
God was under no obligation to the apostle Paul. He’s under no obligation to any of us. He is not a celestial bellhop, waiting for us to order him around. Our faith, if it is strong, persevering, persistent, and real, pleases God. But our faith never commands him.
Instead— and this is the heart of this extraordinarily beautiful story— God tells Paul that God’s grace is sufficient for Paul— even and especially in his suffering. God told Paul that in the weakness of his affliction he would be made strong. That his suffering, though difficult, would grow his faith in God. God told Paul that God‘s power is manifested more through human weakness than through our own strength.
God refused to heal Paul. Not because he couldn’t, but because he was going to use Paul’s affliction to shape him into the man, the teacher, the preacher, the missionary, and the Christian he wanted Paul to be. The road to spiritual maturity often includes pain and suffering.
Paul made an about-face. He writes:
“I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses.” Why Paul? “So that the power of Jesus Christ will rest upon me. This is why I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong” (II Corinthians 12: 9-10, emphasis added).
From pleading for its removal to delighting in its presence. Talk about flipping the paradigm!
Paul’s thorn in the flesh was no longer a painful burden. It would be a glorious blessing. It would not be a source of weakness. It would be a source of strength. It would not be a humiliation. It would be a reason for hope.
It would not limit Paul’s abilities to serve and honor his Lord Jesus Christ. It would be a liberation of his gifts and abilities, that he might serve Christ with greater confidence, joy, and assurance— and with greater blessing and success.
Through it all God, not Paul, received the glory.
There is no more profound paradox in the Christian’s life. The way down is the way up.
In our weakness we discover our true strength.
To order Jack Wyman’s book, “Everything Else: Stories of Life, Faith and Our World”, go to amazon.com, Christian Book Distributors or barnesandnoble.com. It is also available on Kindle and eBooks.