Strength in Weakness

The rainy season in Seoul, South Korea, is dismal. Weeks of clouds and rain cover the city and its people with drab, dreary grays that weigh heavily upon one’s soul. But what if there was a way to bring color and joy into lives in the midst of the gray pall of clouds and rain?

Designers from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago (SAIC) wondered the same thing. They traveled to Seoul with a novel idea to bring some color to monsoon season.

On sidewalks, streets, crosswalks and alleyways the designers and artists painted colorful murals. These amazingly bright and beautiful murals make it appear as though one is walking over a surreal aquarium, or a glass-topped river. They incorporate brilliant blues, pinks, yellows, reds, purples, and greens that are in stark contrast to a gray sky.

But here’s the amazing part: Much of the time the murals are invisible. They were painted with hydrochromatic paint, a special design that only becomes visible when activated by water. In other words, these beautiful works of art are only visible when it rains! This happens not in spite of the rain, but because of it.

While the weather outside may not affect us quite so dramatically, sometimes we find ourselves in the midst of a monsoon season of the soul. Ailing bodies, broken relationships, tight finances, boring jobs, and general feelings of dissatisfaction with our day-to-day existence can feel like darkness and clouds that won’t go away.

Instead, things seem to go from bad to worse. As the saying goes, “When it rains, it pours.”

Just look at Naaman in today’s Old Testament Lesson.

Naaman is a man who appears to have everything going for him. He is a high-ranking general in the army of Aram, a powerful nation which is present-day Syria. The Bible describes him as a great man, a mighty warrior, well-regarded by his king and the people.

But there’s a problem. Naaman has a skin disease. All of his power, reputation and skill in battle are useless against the illness, and he’s desperate for healing. On the advice of an unnamed servant girl, one who has none of his power, reputation or freedom, Naaman journeys from Aram to Israel to see Elisha for healing.

Naaman travels with an entourage and plenty of cash. He’s ready to pay. Perhaps this is the one way he still feels like he has some power, some control over his illness. He can pay for the best medical treatment of his day, whether in or out of network.

When his motorcade pulls up to the curb in front of Elisha’s humble home, one can imagine Naaman rechecking the address. This can’t be the right place. It’s not a state-of-the-art dermatology clinic, but a simple house. His heart sinks.

Then, even here, he is not greeted and treated in a way that is worthy of the magnitude of his position and wealth. He doesn’t see the doctor. There is no examination, no tests, no sympathy or gentle bedside manner.

Instead, a messenger of the prophet meets him at the curb with instructions to go wash in the Jordan River seven times. Can you imagine arriving at your physician’s office with a serious illness and being told by the receptionist that the doctor wants you to take a couple of Tylenol?

Naaman is irritated, to put it politely, and insulted. But his servants eventually convince him to give it a shot.

Reluctantly, Naaman agrees. He and his entourage arrive at the Jordan and Naaman wades in before following Elisha’s prescription and immersing himself seven times. To everyone’s surprise, he’s healed.

In the verses following today’s Lesson, we learn that not only is his skin restored to that of a much younger man, his heart and life are also changed. And Naaman confesses that there is a God in Israel.

In the climactic scene of the story, when Naaman is at the height of his frustration, he talks about the water. He angrily questions what Elisha thinks is so special about the Jordan River. He goes so far as to say that the water of the rivers at home in the powerful nation of Aram must be superior to that of a river in the conquered land of Israel.

He overstates his case here, but in some sense, he’s right. Water is water. The water he has been bathing in at home every day is exactly the same as the water in the Jordan.

What Naaman doesn’t know is that the healing powers are not in the water, but in God who is already alive in the life of Naaman.

In the description of Naaman, the author of Second Kings tells us something about Naaman that even he didn’t know about himself. We read that the Lord had given Aram victory through Naaman. Now this is a profound theological statement. What the author is saying is that before Naaman was aware of it, God had been at work in and through him.

Naaman’s healing does not come from the water. The seven times he immerses himself in the Jordan simply allow the water to activate what had been there all along.

Naaman’s healing is, in a sense, hydrochromatic. Like the rain on the streets of Seoul activating the paint, the water of the Jordan makes visible what had previously gone unnoticed, but had been there all along. 

Colors burst through the gray. Joy peeks through the sadness. Wonder and awe break through feelings of brokenness and weakness. The power of God was made visible by Naaman’s bathing in the Jordan River.

The apostle Paul makes the point very clear in 2 Corinthians. “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” (12:9).

Paul, like Naaman, asks for healing. The nature of the problem, this thorn in the flesh of Paul, is not disclosed. But it was stressing the apostle something fierce.

God’s answer was a form of hydrochromatic healing. God had other ideas for Paul, and removing that thorn in the flesh does not seem to have been one of them. God gave Paul strength sufficient for his needs, not happiness sufficient for his wants. 

God said, “I’m going to help you, not by taking you out of the problem or the problem out of you, but by giving you strength right in the middle of it!”

Paul’s attitude changed immediately. Failure and suffering were seen in a new light. While Paul never expected to fail, he understood that in his weakness, a superior kind of strength could shine through that would otherwise be hidden from view.

The beauty of the diamond is exposed by the cutting, chipping and polishing of the stone.

The brilliance of the pearl is revealed after the prying apart of the shell of the oyster.

The block of marble becomes a David only after bearing the brunt of Michelangelo’s chisel and hammer.

“That is why,” Paul exclaims, ‘I delight in weakness, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:10). This is a difficult paradox: Your weakest moment is also the moment of your greatest strength! It is then that others see in you what they would never otherwise see – your grace, your strength, your courage, your faith – all qualities that they themselves desire to emulate and learn.

Your life, in the moment of your weakness, becomes a pattern that others can model. You wield your greatest power not by getting out your cell phone, sending a text, or issuing directives by email, but by modeling the persuasive power of a life of inner depth and character.

The rain that fell on Paul and Naaman – the dirty waters of the Jordan River – revealed the power of the God of Israel.

That’s basically God’s message to the apostle. And Paul responds, “Ah, I didn’t know that, Lord. Okay, then, instead of complaining about the rain, I’ll welcome it. I’ll ‘boast’ about it. Because in the rain, I’ll see the glory of God.”

In the dark seasons of your soul may the waters of adversity reveal to you the presence of Christ alive in you. And may you find joy.