When I Am Weak

 

Jesu Juva

2 Cor. 12:7-10                                                 

March 13, 2024

Lent Midweek 4                      

 Dear saints of our Savior~

        We’ve got boxwood bushes and burning bushes, hydrangea and spirea bushes.  For flowers we’ve got Peonies and poppies—and sunflowers—hopefully, if I can find a way to outsmart the squirrels this year.  But you will find no roses—not one such shrub—in my yard.  Roses are pretty flowers, to be sure.  But most varieties require too much attention.  They’re high maintenance.  And most roses have thorns—my least favorite feature of the rose bush—thorns perfectly designed to scratch your shins and puncture your skin.  I say no thank you.

        Nobody likes thorns.  Nobody walks into Bayside Garden Center and says, “Give me something with thorns—the bigger the better.”  Their prick is painful.  They have a way of reaching out and impaling us when we least expect it.  Even the most cautious, careful and steady-handed gardener cannot avoid the pain inflicted by thorns. 

        That pain is so common, in fact, that St. Paul used the thorn as a metaphor in tonight’s reading from 2 Corinthians.  “A thorn was given me in the flesh,” he writes.  And the Greek word Paul chose for “thorn” can also be translated as “sharpened stake” or “spike.”  It seems Paul wasn’t just describing a slight scratch, but rather a deep and painful puncture.

        What was Paul’s thorn?  What caused him such pain?  We can only guess because the Holy Spirit has left it intentionally ambiguous. Paul’s thorn was painful.  It hurt.  It impeded the important work Paul had been given to do.  It mucked up his ministry—or so it seemed.

        So debilitating was this thorn in Paul’s flesh that on three separate occasions he pleaded with the Lord to take it away.  Three times Paul the Apostle—the one who was called directly by Jesus Christ on the road to Damascus—three times he got down on his knees and prayed for relief.  And on three separate occasions the Lord did not do as Paul requested.  The Lord did not remove Paul’s thorn.   Instead, the Lord gave Paul the strength to bear it—the strength to carry on despite the thorn in his flesh. 

        But the Lord did not abandon Paul in his suffering.  He gave him a wonderful promise—a promise from which Christians have drawn strength and comfort for two thousand years:  My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.  The grace of Jesus Christ is sufficient.  The grace of God that flows from the cross of Christ into your life is sufficient.  It is enough, adequate, ample.  Nothing more is needed.  The power of Jesus is perfected when you are at your weakest.  For when I am weak, then I am strong.

        Do you believe that?  Do you believe that the grace of Jesus Christ is sufficient—or is there something more that’s needed?  When Paul heard those words from Jesus, all he needed to do was reflect on the events of his own life to see that what Jesus said was true—to see that when he was at his weakest, Jesus was at His strongest.  Pain had been plentiful in Paul’s life:  He had been beaten, flogged, nearly stoned to death, shipwrecked, hungry, thirsty, naked, imprisoned and exhausted.  But through it all, the grace and forgiveness of Jesus Christ had sustained him—compelled him—to keep on going.

        What about you?  What about your life?  What’s the thorn in your flesh?  What is it that causes you such pain that it threatens to prevent you from carrying out your callings in this life?  If God gave you the “magic wand of thorn removal,” what malady would you wish away?  There’s no shortage of thorns that need removal—things that seem to suck all the joy out of life—burdens with no silver lining, nothing positive—obstacles that even seem to hinder your faith at times.  Can’t the Lord Jesus see how much better life would be if those thorns were taken away and removed?

        Part of the problem is our aversion to weakness.  We don’t want to be weak.  We don’t want to appear weak.  If we’re weak that shows that we’re needy and dependent.  What we like is power and success and independence.  We like health and strength, vitality and vigor.  We like to be in control—setting goals and exceeding goals.  Weakness?  Pain?  What’s the point?  Who needs it? 

        The truth of tonight’s text is this:  Your God does His best work in human weakness—when you’re flat on your back with no choice but to “be still and know that He is God.”  “My power is made perfect in weakness,” He says.  The power of Jesus is made perfect in all the thorny maladies that cause you pain.  Jesus says, “There am I.  There is my power.  There am I helping you learn to be completely reliant upon my all-sufficient grace.” 

        Jesus isn’t just lecturing us when He speaks of power made perfect in weakness.  Jesus is pointing us to His cross.  For in the crucifixion of Jesus, God’s power was perfected.  Jesus’ death was God’s most powerful act—by which He forgives your sins and swallows up your death.  St. Paul could write metaphorically about the “thorn” in his flesh.  But for Jesus, thorns were no metaphor.  Thorns were twisted into a cruel crown.  And that thorny crown—together with the sharpened spikes in His flesh—were the very real payment for your very real sins.  No metaphor needed.   

        “My power is made perfect in weakness,” says Jesus.  That power is perfected in you here in this place, in the Divine Service.  As you confess your sins and receive absolution, as you hear the promises of Jesus and eat and drink His body and blood, the hidden power of Jesus is given to you.  Here His grace flows freely, that we might learn how all-sufficient it really is.  You’d never know it just by looking, but the power of God is at work right here, buried under weakness.  It is the power of Jesus’ death and resurrection to save you.

        The good news for all the baptized is this: you don’t have to be strong.  Let me say it again:  You don’t have to be strong—because Jesus is strong.  He’s your Savior.  His grace is sufficient for you.  His power is made perfect in your weakness.  In Christ, even our weaknesses can be cause for joy as they teach us to depend more and more—not upon our own strength—but upon the amazing grace of Jesus.  So that together with Paul we too can say with thankful hearts, “When I am weak, then I am strong.” 

        In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.