Discovering Strength in Odd Places
This past November I planned a one-off message from 2 Corinthians 12. It happened to concern the portion of Scripture often known for Paul’s “thorn in the flesh.” Of course, the surrounding verses give a much fuller sense of all that Paul is trying to convey about glorying or boasting in weakness instead of the flesh.
I was unable to preach that message until this past Sunday. The reason is that I took ill during the latter part of the earlier week in November. By Saturday of that week, I had to call upon a preacher friend to come preach for me.
It was no small irony that I was delayed from talking to my congregants about discovering God’s strength in the face of human weakness due to my own sickness. I’ve sat with that irony for a while, knowing I would eventually return to 2 Corinthians 11-12.
The time for that return came this past week. Our church’s ministry theme for 2025 is “Big Problems, Bigger God.”
Naturally, it has wide application to Christians in nearly any situation. It is simultaneously a call to faith, courage, and spiritual confidence: God is bigger than any of our problems.
Easier said than believed!
I felt that one element of this series should involve some perspective on human weakness and adversity. Seeing God’s character and purposes in the face of those seemed to be unavoidable ingredient to reinforcing this theme.
Of all the places where one could go to hammer this home, 2 Corinthians looms large. It’s by the far the most personal of all of Paul’s letters, except for perhaps Philemon. It’s a book I’ve preached through before, though it has been some years. (Increasingly, I’m thinking that no one should preach or teach through 2 Corinthians unless they’ve been in pastoral ministry at least ten years—and maybe longer!)
But no one needs to be expert in pastoral ministry, church planting, or ministry suffering to learn from Paul’s teaching:
9 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. 10 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.
Life in Christ always discloses these truths. Whether we like it or not, God will show us, in some of the most painful of ways, that we need more of Him and less of us. As our church’s key verse for 2025 says, “He must increase, and I must decrease.” (John 3:30)
One of the aspects of 2 Corinthians that is especially challenging, especially portions like chapters 11 and 12, is that they don’t lend themselves to a tidy theological analysis. Strictly speaking, Paul isn’t trying to give us some kind of precise, technical, and/or empirical judgment about how the Holy Spirit “rests upon us” in the face of human weakness. He isn’t intending to explain how shipwrecks differ from beatings and beatings differ from tornadoes, although these are certainly different phenomena. Instead, he is giving us his Spirit-led understanding and experience of what God does to us, for us, and through us as we suffer as Christians.
But What about the Thorn?
So, what is the thorn in the flesh? Christian commentators throughout the centuries have offered a dizzying array of possibilities. They range from spiritual or emotional issues (demonic oppression or depression) to physical problems (epilepsy, poor vision, etc.), and everything in-between.
For my money, I tend to think it was a physical problem of some sort. This makes the most sense when we consider the fact that the thorn appears to have lingered with Paul for many years. Thus, it was chronic in nature. Second, it was of both Divine and satanic origin. That is to say, it was given by God and a messenger of Satan. Scriptural accounts seem to allow for both kinds of disease etiology.
Another reason I think a physical malady best fits the context is that physical conditions have the unique capacity to affect both the body and the mind/spirit/soul. Paul clearly was coping with a multi-dimensional problem.
Whatever we see as the thorn, may we not lose sight of the point: it was to keep Paul from being conceited due to his incredible visions and revelations. Likewise, God assigns us our own thorns to keep us humble and dependent on Him. That’s what’s required of those who discover His strength in their weakness.
A final thought. As I surveyed a few commentaries on this passage, I came across what I thought was a very wise insight about the thorn in the flesh:
The very anonymity of this particular affliction has been and still is productive of far wider blessing to the members of the Church universal than would have been the case had it been possible to identify with accuracy the specific nature of the disability in question. [1]
Hughes’s point here is striking, and right on target, I think. Sometimes intentional ambiguity in the Bible serves its own distinct ends.
One can easily imagine how differently modern Christians (and perhaps ancient ones, too!) would handle “the thorn in the flesh” were we to know exactly what it was.
We would possibly imagine thorns to be reducible to that one thing that Paul experienced. We would possibly only interpret our own sufferings as thorns if they matched his own experience.
Were his thorn to be identified as physical, we might be tempted to think that thorns could only be physical.
Were his thorn identified as psychological (e.g., depression) or spiritual (e.g., demonic), we might be tempted to think that thorns could only come in these forms.
“Thorns” being underdetermined is actually for our good.
Instead, the Holy Spirit leaves vague the identity of the thorn so we can focus on the two larger points: (1) thorns can be used by God to keep us humble and dependent, helping us better experience His strength amid our weakness; and (2) Satan intends to use thorns to distract, discourage, and derail us.
[1] Philip Hughes, Paul’s Second Epistle to the Corinthians (NICNT, Eerdmans, 1962), cited in Picirilli, 1-2 Corinthians, Randall House Bible Commentary.
For Further Reading:
See Paul V. Harrison’s wonderful sermon, “My Grace is Sufficient.” It was preached on this passage at the 2009 Free Will Baptist National Association. See Free Will Baptist Convention Sermons, 1935-2010 (Nashville: Executive Office, NAFWB, 2011), 932-944.
Follow Up:
In Newsletter #152, I responded to and evaluated the claims of there being a widespread movement toward Eastern Orthodoxy, especially among young men.
Enter Rod Dreher, the journalist and perhaps most prominent Eastern Orthodox Christian among evangelical audience. In a recent post he shares a lengthy Orthodox prayer. Make of it what you will. (I find it rather rich and poignant.)
In recent years, I’ve given a lot of thought about the significance of hospitality to the Christian life and church. I continue to be struck by the many obstacles to it, although we mostly enjoy homes and pantries of historically unprecedented plenty and niceness.
More recently, I’ve been struck by how common certain kinds of etiquette and behavior once considered rude and inconsiderate have become.
Katherine Johnson Martinko—whose Substack page is uber practical—has been thinking about this, too. At The Analog Family, she describes and critiques the flakiness of so many adults, especially in response to committing to dinner invitations and the like. Here’s the “money excerpt”:
It appears we're living in a time when people don't hesitate to bail on their friends for reasons that range from justifiable to absurd.
This reveals an appalling lack of etiquette that gives zero consideration to what it takes to host an event of any kind. If someone never hosts, then it might be understandable that they don't grasp the effort that goes into it, but surely they can gauge the human impact. No one likes to feel rejected or sidelined, and turning down an event invitation at the last minute feels incredibly hurtful to any host. It essentially says, "You don't matter enough for me to show up.". . .
Can we take a moment to talk about how wonderful it is to be wanted? To be deemed socially desirable and worthy of a social invitation? The antithesis of that—social ostracism—triggers the same regions of the brain as physical pain, which is why some people fear it more than death. We are hardwired to want to be included, so why reject the opportunities when they arise? Imagine how much worse you'd feel if the invitations never came.
I would be remiss if I didn’t also call attention to Wesley Huff’s recent appearance on the Joe Rogan Experience, the most listened to/viewed podcast in the world. Huff is a Christian apologist from Canada who I’ve only lately become aware of. His website has many helpful resources, but I simply call everyone’s attention to this podcast episode.
I warn you: Rogan is characteristically profane in places. However, try to imagine you’re watching a three-hour conversation between a thoughtful, studied Christian, and a curious unbeliever who is at least open-minded. It’s really quite fascinating.
Saint Augustine wrote that only the humble are given hope. The prideful want to believe that it has arrived already; the humble know that they are still on the path, and they are willing to keep plodding along. Thomas Aquinas spoke the status viatoris and the status comprehensoris. The status viatoris is the status of one on the way, a pilgrim. The status comprehensoris is the status of one who has arrived, who fully comprehends. As finite creatures, we all exist in status viatoris. You are (hopefully) moving toward your own essence; you are not yet fully yourself. God, on the other enjoys the status comprehensoris, existing fully in His essence. One day we will be complete, fully ourselves. Until then, we live in hope—in the tension between the now and the not yet.
Jonathan Rogers, “Humility and Hope.”
John Piper, Future Grace: The Purifying Power of the Promises of God.
John Dickson, A Doubter’s Guide to World Religions.
While some of the NFL playoff games have been blowouts, I’ve generally enjoyed watching them so far. But perhaps just as interesting is the coaching carousel.
Based on many factors, here is my ranking of the best jobs and worst jobs. (New England recently hired their new coach, but I’ll keep them on this list since I had a strong view of that job prior to Vrabel’s hiring.) I also include what I think are the most significant details that make the jobs more or less desirable. I actually think most of these aren’t good jobs, but someone had to be worst, and someone had to be first.
1-New England Patriots: (1) Capable-looking young quarterback; (2) Lots of cap space; (3) History of winning; (4) Good draft position.
2-Chicago Bears: (1) Decent roster; (2) Cap space; (3) Bad ownership; (4) Losing history.
3-New York Jets: (1) Decent roster; (2) Old, self-centered quarterback; (3) Good draft position; (4) Bad owner; (5) Tough media market.
4-Jacksonville Jaguars: (1) Overpaid quarterback; (2) Losing history; (3) Questionable General Manager; (4) milquetoast media market.
5-New Orleans Saints: (1) Bad salary cap situation; (2) Good General Manager; (3) A quarterback that only a great offensive mind could elevate; (4) Great receivers; (5) A patient owner.
6-Dallas Cowboys: (1) Overhyped franchise; (2) Delusional, meddling owner; (3) Overpaid, injury-prone quarterback; (4) Nice facilities.
7-Las Vegas Raiders: (1) Bad owner; (2) No quarterback; (3) Not a great draft position; (4) Losing history.