Strength Through Weakness

The Dalai Lama is called an “enlightened being” by his Tibetan Buddhist followers. But he also has his weaknesses. According to a report in The Week magazine, it’s said he sneaks chocolate chip cookies when he’s supposed to be fasting. He uses an air gun to scare away irritating birds.  While the Dalai Lama meditates, he likes to have a radio on in the background, playing news from the BBC World Service. His Holiness also admits that mosquitoes have caused him to question the fundamental Buddhist prohibition against taking life. “When I’m trying to sleep,” he says, “their loud buzzing and their bites really annoy me.”

I thought that was interesting. Though he espouses reverence for all forms of life, the Dalai Lama is tempted to kill mosquitoes. We all have our weaknesses, don’t we?

One of the most highly praised motion pictures of 2017 was titled Darkest Hour. It was about Winston Churchill. He led his country, the United Kingdom, to fight against the tyranny of Hitler. As renowned and successful as he was, however, Winston Churchill had his struggles.

Churchill as a young man was confronted with two big challenges. First, he suffered a speech impediment – a lisp caused by a dental condition. We’re told that he often wore an artificial tooth, designed to ease this impediment. He also avoided words in his speeches that he had difficulty pronouncing. Yet his speeches were both inspiring and motivating.

The second obstacle Churchill had to overcome was a mental health challenge. He called it the “Black Dog.” Churchill suffered severe bouts of clinical depression throughout his life. The condition became especially severe during times of military setbacks. Nevertheless, Churchill wouldn’t allow this condition to stop him from carrying out his duties as Prime Minister. He believed the needs of his country came before his personal needs. Despite his speech impediments, Churchill went on to become one of history’s greatest inspirational speakers. And, despite his depression, he was an inspiring leader.

All of us have weaknesses. Some of our weaknesses are physical, some are mental, some are moral. Some of these weaknesses have to do with our work, some with our family life, some with our relationship with Christ. Some of us, for example, have short tempers, others of us lack diplomacy. Some of us are too proud, others of us lack back-bone. There are no perfect “10s.” Maybe that is just as well.

Saint Paul had his weaknesses. One in particular caused him much heartache. We don’t know for certain what it was. He called it his “thorn in the flesh.” Some have suggested that Paul suffered from epileptic seizures. If so, he was in good company. Two of the most powerful men who ever lived – Julius Caesar and Napoleon – were epileptics. In Paul’s day there was no medication to control seizures. If that was his thorn, he was stuck with it.

Paul prayed that God would deliver him from his affliction. Three times he beseeched God about this matter, but God’s answer to him was, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

I will pray about my significant weakness for weeks or months or even years. If it’s a really significant weakness, I may pray about it every morning and every evening for the rest of my life. But that’s the difference between St. Paul and your rector. Paul prayed about his “thorn in the flesh” three times, then let it go and trusted it to God. When he heard God say to him, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness,” that was enough for Paul. God was saying to Paul, “Trust me, Paul. I will take care of you. But I can use your weakness to demonstrate my power.” And God did use Paul’s weaknesses in a wonderful way. Paul’s influence over the Christian community has been second only to Christ himself.

Look at how strong Paul’s faith was in God. He prayed three times about his “thorn in the flesh,” then let it go.

Paul’s experience convinces me that our weaknesses may become strengths if they remind us of our dependence on God. It would have been easy for Paul to boast of his influence on the early Christian community, but he knew that the glory did not belong to him. His weaknesses should have condemned him to failure. Only by the grace of God could he make his life count. And he did so in a magnificent way.

Do you know the story of Rick Hoyt? Rick has been disabled from birth and yet in 1989 he and his father participated in a national Ironman competition. A typical Ironman Triathlon consists of a 2.4-mile swim, a 112-mile bicycle ride and a marathon 26.2 mile run, raced in that order and without a break. It is incredibly grueling.

Rick knew he would get lots of skeptical looks on the race course. He also knew the winners would probably cross the finish line hours ahead of him. His goal would be to finish, even if it took all day, even if he had to cross the finish line in the dark.

Robert Reccord and Randy Singer in their book, Made to Count, Discovering What To Do with Your Life, detail Rick’s ordeal. They describe the grim look of determination on Rick’s face as well as the astonished looks on the faces of the spectators. They say a buzz grew through the crowd as the spectators wondered whether Rick would finish. They describe the loneliness of running by flashlight on the deserted roads of Kona on the Big Island of Hawaii as Rick started the final leg of the race well after the leaders had already finished the entire race. And they describe the roar of approval as the crowd greeted Rick at the finish line followed by an ear‑to‑ear smile on the face of the young man who refused to let a disability define his life. After all, the crowd had just witnessed a young man who couldn’t even walk finish his first Ironman triathlon.

Here is how Reccord and Singer describe this amazing feat: “Rick Hoyt was born with cerebral palsy. He finished the race just one second ahead of his forty‑nine‑year old father – the man who swam through 2.4 miles of ocean pulling Rick behind him in a rubber raft, then pedaled an oversized fifty‑eight pound bike for 112 miles with Rick sitting in a basket on the front, then pushed Rick in a special cart for the 26.2‑mile running marathon.

“All the self‑help books and motivational sayings in the world could not have carried Rick through that race. It was the love and strength of a father that took Rick where he could not go alone.”

Isn’t that a beautiful metaphor for the life of faith? No one truly succeeds in life on their own. Self-made man? Self-made woman? It’s a myth. There are actually very few worthwhile goals in life you can achieve on your own. The truth of the matter is that true success only comes to the person who realizes that, try our hardest, we are only truly successful when we realize that a loving Father is towing our raft, pedaling our bicycle, and pushing our cart. And if you have not come to that realization, perhaps that is why you are dissatisfied with your life and why – even when the world acclaims you as a success – you feel empty. You are trying to live your life without God.

That is the lesson Paul learned. Can you hear him testifying about what God had done in his life? “Look at me,” he would say, “I once persecuted the church. Look at me, a man who has to battle this humiliating affliction – this thorn in the flesh. Yet Christ has used me to plant churches all over the known world.”

Paul was a man of tremendous intellect. He was also a man of unquestionable persuasive powers. Perhaps if it had not been for his thorn in the flesh, he would have leaned upon his own ability rather than the power of God working through him. And you and I would never have heard the name of Paul of Tarsus.

That’s the way life works. His weakness became his strength. His scar became a star. His hurt became a halo. And the same thing can happen to us – if we don’t give into our weakness, and if our weakness causes us to rely upon God.