Summary: It’s the reality that to be strong in the things of God, we must be weak. When we’re in Christ, we’re weak but strong.

Weak But Strong

TCF Sermon

February 11, 2007

Hudson Taylor, founder of the China Inland Mission, which in the 1960’s became what is today the missions agency OMF International, knew the secret of strength through weakness. Complimented once by a friend on the impact of the mission, Hudson answered, “It seemed to me that God looked over the whole world to find a man who was weak enough to do His work, and when He at last found me, He said, ‘He is weak enough—he’ll do.’ All God’s giants have been weak men who did great things for God because they reckoned on His being with them.” Our Daily Bread, May 13, 1996

This story illustrates a great truth, and a great paradox, of our Christian faith, which we’re going to spend some time looking at this morning.

It’s the reality that to be strong in the things of God, we must be weak. When we’re in Christ, we’re weak but strong. That’s the title of this morning’s message: Weak But Strong

This is a clear theme in scripture, but the best passage to teach us this truth is:

2 Corinthians 12:1-10 (NIV) 1 I must go on boasting. Although there is nothing to be gained, I will go on to visions and revelations from the Lord. 2 I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven. Whether it was in the body or out of the body I do not know--God knows. 3 And I know that this man--whether in the body or apart from the body I do not know, but God knows-- 4 was caught up to paradise. He heard inexpressible things, things that man is not permitted to tell. 5 I will boast about a man like that, but I will not boast about myself, except about my weaknesses. 6 Even if I should choose to boast, I would not be a fool, because I would be speaking the truth. But I refrain, so no one will think more of me than is warranted by what I do or say. 7 To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. 8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 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 about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 10 That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Here in this part of his 2nd letter to the church at Corinth, we have the apostle Paul. He’s the man responsible, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, for the writing of much of the New Testament, most of the epistles, some of what is arguably the most influential writing of the past 2,000 years.

If there’s anyone who could boast, or has the right to boast, to brag on himself, it would be Paul. It’s unlikely anyone here in this room will write things that will be influencing people 2000 years from now, assuming Jesus doesn’t come back before then.

In fact, before this passage, Paul found himself boasting, but he was boasting in a way we usually don’t think of boasting. He was boasting of his weakness, of his difficulties, of his troubles. And as we begin chapter 12 of 2nd Corinthians, Paul says he finds himself with the need to continue boasting.

But here, we begin to see his purpose in boasting. For most people, bragging about experiences, abilities, accomplishments, is a way to build themselves up in the eyes of others – to make much of themselves so others will make much of them.

We see it often in our culture. We see it in Hollywood. We see it in Washington politics. We see it in sports. Unfortunately, we see it in the church.

Paul saw it in the church at Corinth, too, so he had to, for the time being, stoop to the level of his enemies to make a point, by boasting or bragging.

Bragging, even in a minor way, is a fairly common occurrence in our regular discourse. But for Paul, his bragging, his boasting, had a different purpose. As we read these ten verses from 2 Corinithians 12, we see what his purpose is.

If Paul was inclined to boast about himself, to build himself up in the eyes of others, he would have immediately told us that he was, in fact, the man in Christ who had a first-hand experience of heaven.

Now, how many times have you heard TV preachers talk about experiences they’ve had, and they don’t have any hesitation to tell you that it was them – “I saw the Lord.” “I caught a glimpse of heaven.” “I experienced this remarkable vision or that amazing revelation.” That’s usually the preface to an appeal for money.

But not Paul. First of all, we might not even guess that “the man in Christ” he refers to was himself. Of course, that becomes clear five verses later, when we read that Paul was the one who received these surpassingly great revelations about heaven.

But he doesn’t start out that way, because he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. Why did Paul refer to himself in the third person about this amazing experience?

1. he was embarrassed about the need to boast.

2. he wished to avoid suggesting he was in any sense a special kind of Christian

3. although Paul recognized the honor involved in being the recipient of a vision, he wanted to dispel any idea that it added to his personal status or importance.

We find out even more about why he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself as we move along here. Paul recognized that in his old nature, it would be easy to become conceited, or puffed up, or to exalt himself, as the different translations of verse 7 say. When something really cool happens with you and God, and you realize God has revealed something special to you, or has given you some sort of honor by allowing you to experience something supernatural, a normal, natural human reaction would be to get puffed up about it. Hey, I might think. I must really be something. God showed me what heaven looks like. He chose me, and not so and so. Or God used me to preach an amazing message. Or God used me when I prayed for this person to get healed. Or God used me to help save this person’s soul, or turn this person’s life around. That must make me really special.

And in some ways, that’s true. It’s a privilege to be used by God as His instrument in anything. It was an amazing honor for Paul to receive this revelation of heaven, this experience of being “caught up” into the third heaven, above the earth and sky, above the stars, into heaven with God.

But why did he not tell of it for 14 years? Wouldn’t our first reaction be to want to run out and tell everyone? Maybe even to give God glory? Maybe even to point people to Him? We always have a way to justify glorifying ourselves, even if that’s not how it starts out – even when it’s not our original intention.

But Paul didn’t tell of it at all for 14 years. Now, because Paul was a human being subject to the same frailties as you and I, it’s possible he might have felt compelled to share his revelation with many, but before he could do that, God did something.

God gave Paul what Paul eventually came to recognize as a gift. He writes in verse 7, that “there was given me a thorn in the flesh.” Isn’t that an interesting way to view this? Why didn’t Paul say “I was afflicted with,” or “I was cursed with” a thorn in the flesh? Why did he choose to write “there was given me.”

It’s clear that he couldn’t have thought this was a gift in any way at first. How do we know that? Because we also read that Paul prayed three times for the Lord to take it away. Why would anyone ask that a gift be taken away? Anyone here get a nice Christmas gift several weeks ago, or perhaps a nice birthday gift your last birthday? Did you ask the Lord to take it away? Did you ask to give it back to the one who gave it to you?

No, we usually think of gifts as something enjoyable and pleasant. We don’t ask anyone to take them away – we enjoy them, we use them, we derive pleasure of some sort from them. So why would Paul ask that this gift be taken away? Most likely because he didn’t see it as a gift at first.

Behind all machinations of Satan, Paul discerned the overarching providence of a God who perpetually created good out of evil. Paul sees both the revelation and the thorns as a gift from God. The importance of the passive verb “was given” can hardly be exaggerated. God is the unseen agent behind the bitter experience.

We don’t know what the thorn in the flesh was. Many scholars think it was some sort of physical ailment, and the phrase “the flesh” seems to bear that out. Others think it may have been persecution, or some sort of spiritual resistance.

But whatever it was, that’s not the point. Whatever it was, it was unpleasant, likely very painful – probably physically, or maybe emotionally, or both. It might have also been embarrassing.

I think one reason we’re not told exactly what it was is because we can all relate to this better without specifics. We all have thorns in our lives that won’t go away. We may ask the Lord to take it from us, and He doesn’t. So it doesn’t really matter, for the purposes of what we need to learn from this passage, what Paul’s thorn was. It doesn’t really matter what our thorn is. That’s not the point. We’re getting to that.

We begin to see the point when we see God’s answer to Paul’s prayer. Now, I believe that God answers prayer, don’t you? I believe that when we seek God, petition God, in prayer, He not only hears, but He answers. But sometimes the answer is no.

What do we do when God says no, or when we don’t get a clear answer? Well, Paul, for one, kept praying. Scripture is clear that when we don’t perceive an answer from God, continuing to pray is absolutely appropriate. Jesus told the parable of the persistent widow to teach us this lesson in Luke 18, where verse 1 says:

Luke 18:1 (NIV) 1 Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up.

Paul no doubt knew this, so he prayed, and he prayed again. It’s not clear from the context of the passage whether God answered Paul specifically all three times. It’s possible that after the first time, Paul’s thorn in the flesh didn’t go away, he didn’t hear an answer from God, so he decided to pray again, as the thorn, whatever it was, was still causing him some pain. It’s possible that happened twice…. that is, he prayed, got no answer, and prayed again.

But certainly it’s clear that after the third time he prayed this prayer – “Oh Lord, please take this thorn away from me for it’s causing me pain” – or maybe “God, this thorn is hindering my ministry, so please remove it” - God answered specifically.

In a roundabout way, God said no – I won’t take away this thorn.

Sometimes, we don’t sense any answers when we pray. Other times, God’s clear with us, and gives us a revelation as to why He’s saying no. But in Paul’s case here, God said no. But God didn’t stop with just saying no. He didn’t just say to Paul – “No, I’m not going to take away this thorn.” He said two things:

1. my grace is sufficient for you

2. my power is perfected in weakness

Here’s where we begin to really get the point of this passage of scripture. The point isn’t that Paul didn’t boast like others – though Paul’s type of boasting was designed to lead us to this point. It’s not that Paul, or anyone, can have revelations from God. Paul did, and others do. The point certainly isn’t what Paul saw in his revelation – if that was the point of this passage, surely he would have told us more about heaven than just that he’d been there.

It’s not even that we can pray more than once for something, and that this is absolutely appropriate. It’s not even that God sometimes answers our prayers with a no answer. These are all truths contained in this passage, but they’re not the point.

The point is God’s answer to Paul, the answer that came with the refusal to remove the thorn in the flesh, that Paul entreated, begged, pleaded with God to take away.

God said, “My grace is sufficient for you.” And, God said, “My power is perfected in weakness.” The message is clear – God was telling Paul that His power – God’s power, was not just perfected in weakness in general, but in Paul’s weakness… and by extension, your weakness, my weakness.

God has said. God has said. This was all Paul needed to know. God has said.

With this, Paul learned that his thorn had a purpose. With this, Paul learned that even though God would not take away this thorn, God would be with him.

It was more important to Paul to have God’s presence, in the midst of the suffering the thorn brought, than to have the thorn removed. That’s quite a remarkable thing to say, isn’t it?

What was the thorn’s purpose? God had given the thorn to Paul to achieve a beneficial purpose – the prevention of spiritual conceit. It was given immediately or shortly after the vision…but there was more than that behind God’s purpose.

We see that in verse 9 – power is perfected in weakness. And then we see it fleshed out a little bit more later in verses 9 and 10.

After God spoke the comforting words to him that His grace was sufficient for Paul, Paul began to recognize something important. These are important things we all must recognize. Paul had begun to make the argument that the only thing he could boast in was his weakness.

But here, in verse 9, that takes on new meaning. After God had told him that not only is His grace sufficient – that God’s grace would sustain Paul, enable Paul, to stand firm, in anything that Paul would experience, including the pain and suffering and embarrassment of the thorn - but also that God’s power was perfected – made perfect, in Paul’s weakness.

This phrase, made perfect, means:

To complete, mature. To complete, make perfect by reaching the intended goal.

Particularly with the meaning to bring to a full end, completion, reaching the intended goal, to finish a work or duty

It also carries the meaning that: "my power shows itself perfect in weakness" meaning that it appears as a need arises. - Complete Word Study Dictionary, The

So, Paul learned – we learn – that not only does God walk with us, and with His grace provide the strength we need when He, in His sovereign purposes, chooses not to remove certain trials and difficult circumstances from our lives, but God also glorifies Himself, and summons His power in us and through us, in those very same circumstances. He reveals His power, His strength, in us.

This power and this strength not only help us through the trial, but glorify Him. The word power here is dunamis.

Power, especially achieving power. All the words derived from the stem dúna– have the meaning of being able, capable.

Power here is a force (literal or figurative); specially miraculous power (usually by implication a miracle itself) :- ability, abundance, meaning, might (-ily, -y, -y deed), power, strength

So, Paul recognizes, and I hope we can recognize, something critical here. Paul recognized it so clearly that he was able to say in verse 9:

Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, that the power of Christ may dwell in me.

Paul is seeing some cause and effect here. He’s seeing that in his own weakness, the power of Christ dwells in Paul. That begs the question. Does that mean also that when he’s in his own strength, Christ’s power does not dwell in Paul?

I think it does. Paul’s recognizing that without being weak in himself, he cannot be strong in Christ. He can trust in Christ’s strength, or his own, but not both. His personal strength is puny and useless by comparison, and in the economy of God.

That’s why Paul can use words like “well content” as the NASB says, and “delight” in the NIV.

This phrase means:

To be well-pleased, to think it good. It means to think well of something by understanding not only what is right and good, but stressing the willingness and freedom of an intention or resolve regarding what is good – it means To take pleasure in

Here’s an illustration of delighting in a weakness:

Charlie Boswell was blinded during World War 2. But he didn’t allow his blindness to stop him from playing sports. In fact he went on to become the 13 time USA Blind Golf Champion! In 1958 Charlie was presented with the Ben Hogan award. Hogan, of course, was one of the greatest golfers of all time – the Tiger Woods of his day. When the two men met Charlie said how he would dearly love to play a round of golf with Mr Hogan.

Ben Hogan said he would be honoured to play with Charlie. Charlie saw his opportunity. "Would you like to play for money, Mr. Hogan?"

"I can’t play you for money, it wouldn’t be fair!" said Mr. Hogan. "Aw, come on, Mr. Hogan...$1,000 per hole!"

"I can’t, what would people think of me, taking advantage of you and your circumstance," Hogan replied.

"Chicken, Mr. Hogan?" "Okay," blurted a frustrated Hogan, "but I am going to play my best!" "I wouldn’t expect anything else," said the confident Boswell.

"You’re on Mr. Boswell, you name the time and the place!" A very self-assured Boswell responded "10 o’clock . . . tonight!"

The blind golfer’s weakness was a strength, but only in the dark. Our weakness is strength, but only in Christ.

At first blush, the phrase “I am content with” or “I delight in” weaknesses is hard to swallow. But when we begin to understand this as Paul did, that without being weak in ourselves, we cannot be truly strong in Christ, it begins to make more sense.

Commentator Matthew Henry writes:

the reason of his glory and joy on account of these things was this-they were fair opportunities for Christ to manifest the power and sufficiency of his grace resting upon him, by which he had so much experience of the strength of divine grace that he could say, When I am weak, then am I strong. This is a Christian paradox: when we are weak in ourselves, then we are strong in the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ; when we see ourselves weak in ourselves, then we go out of ourselves to Christ, and are qualified to receive strength from him, and experience most of the supplies of divine strength and grace.

The Lord can use more of our weakness than our strength. Our strength often competes with God’s strength, which is a joke if you think about it, because what can truly compete with God? But in us, our strength is the rival of God’s strength. Our weaknesses are much more often His servant.

Why? Because in our weakness we are drawing on His resources, instead of our own, and revealing His glory, as He uses us.

Man’s extremity is God’s opportunity; man’s security is Satan’s opportunity.

God’s way is not to take His children out of trial, but to give them strength to bear up against it. Even Jesus prayed this:

John 17:15 (NIV) 15 My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one.

God tells us in this, that His grace is sufficient…the trial must endure, but the grace will also endure and never fail you. But more than that, through the very trial that brings us pain, God’s power is manifest, through us and in us.

Once upon a time, in the heart of an ancient Kingdom, there was a beautiful garden. And there, in the cool of the day, the Master of the garden would walk. Of all the plants of the garden, the most beautiful and most beloved was gracious and noble bamboo. Year after year, bamboo grew yet more noble and gracious, conscious of his Master’s love and watchful delight, but modest and gentle. And often when the wind came to revel in the garden, Bamboo would dance and play, tossing and swaying and leaping and bowing in joyous abandon, leading the Great Dance of the garden, which most delighted the Master’s heart.

Now, one day, the Master himself drew near to contemplate his Bamboo with eyes of curious expectancy. And Bamboo, in a passion of adoration, bowed his great head to the ground in loving greeting.

The Master spoke: "Bamboo, Bamboo, I would use you."

Bamboo flung his head to the sky in utter delight. The day of days had come, the day for which he had been made, the day to which he had been growing hour by hour, the day in which he would find his completion and his destiny.

His voice came low: "Master, I’m ready. Use me as you wish."

"Bamboo," The Master’s voice was grave "I would have to take you and cut you down!"

A trembling of great horror shook Bamboo…"Cut …me… down ? Me.. whom you, Master, has made the most beautiful in all your Garden…cut me down! Ah, not that. Not that. Use me for the joy, use me for the glory, oh master, but do not cut me down!"

"Beloved Bamboo," The Master’s voice grew graver still "If I do not cut you down, I cannot use you."

The garden grew still. Wind held his breath. Bamboo slowly bent his proud and glorious head. There was a whisper: "Master, if you cannot use me other than to cut me down.. then do your will and cut".

"Bamboo, beloved Bamboo, I would cut your leaves and branches from you also".

"Master, spare me. Cut me down and lay my beauty in the dust; but would you also have to take from me my leaves and branches too?"

"Bamboo, if I do not cut them away, I cannot use you."

The Sun hid his face. A listening butterfly glided fearfully away. And Bamboo shivered in terrible expectancy, whispering low: "Master, cut away"

"Bamboo, Bamboo, I would yet… split you in two and cut out your heart, for if I cut not so, I cannot use you."

Then Bamboo bowed to the ground: "Master, Master… then cut and split."

So did the Master of the garden took Bamboo…and cut him down…and hacked off his branches…and stripped off his leaves…and split him in two…and cut out his heart.

And lifting him gently, the Master carried Bamboo to where there was a spring of fresh sparkling water in the midst of his dry fields. Then putting one end of the broken Bamboo in the spring and the other end into the water channel in the field, the Master gently laid down his beloved Bamboo… And the spring sang welcome, and the clear sparkling waters raced joyously down the channel of bamboo’s torn body into the waiting fields. Then the rice was planted, and the days went by, and the shoots grew and the harvest came.

In that day Bamboo, once so glorious in his stately beauty, was yet more glorious in his brokenness and humility. For in his beauty he was life abundant, but in his brokenness he became a channel of abundant life to his Master’s world.

Are we willing this morning to allow God’s power to be made perfect in our weakness? Can we say, with Paul, that we delight in our weaknesses, knowing that in our weaknesses, God uses us in a way He will not use us in our own strength? Are we willing to see the troubling, humiliating, brokenness of the thorns in our lives as this little story says:

“to become a channel of abundant life to the world of the Master,” the King of Kings?

Are we willing to glory in our weaknesses, so that God’s glory can shine through us? Pray