Finding Strength in Our Inadequacy

Do you remember the TV commercial of years ago in which a businessman was sitting behind a desk, phone to his ear, telling his boss, “I can do that! I can do that!...” But as he hung up the phone, he asked himself, “How am I going to do that?!”

 

I think we’ve all been there at one time or another, either piled up with too much work and too little time in which to do it, or confronted with a challenge that seems beyond our capabilities. It makes us want to ask the same question: ‘How am I going to do that?’ In a society in which “pull yourself up by your own bootstraps” has been a dominant mantra, we like to feel competent at what’s in front of us, at least adequate for the task. It’s unsettling feeling to realize that what is confronting us might be more than we can handle.

 

This has been the case throughout the history of mankind. Technology and other advances may have made it easier to be productive, but we still find times when the work seems bigger than the worker. Back in the early 1900s, for example, the Wright brothers were armed with mechanical skills and a vision for creating a flying machine. They dreamed of building a contraption capable of overcoming the pull of gravity, but I suspect there were times when they wondered, ‘What in the world are we doing?’ Thankfully, the “can’t do” impulse was negated by “can do” determination.

 

Can you imagine how Jesus’ disciples felt when first He called them to follow Him, and then gradually entrusted them with more responsibility? These weren’t individuals holding the equivalent of PH.D.’s and MBAs in their day. They weren’t even learned religious leaders. They were lowly fishermen, a despised tax collector and other men situated on the lower end of the social totem pole.

 

How do you think they felt when Jesus looked directly in their eyes and declared, “Come, follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men” (Matthew 4:19)? Or when, as Mark 6:7 tells us, "He began to send them out two by two and gave them power over unclean spirits”?

 

I enjoyed the scene in the third season of “The Chosen” when Jesus, portrayed by Jonathan Roumie, announced His plan to send His disciples out for their first missionary foray. As the scene accurately depicts, I believe, they stared at Jesus with unbelief, even questioning what they had heard. In today’s vernacular they were asking a collective, “Say what?!”

 

Recently I enjoyed meeting with a longtime friend over coffee, reminiscing over the time we worked together on staff with the marketplace ministry Christian Business Men’s Connection (CBMC). We agreed that when we were called to our respective roles, we had no idea what we were signing up for. The only thing that really “qualified” us for the work was our realization of how unqualified we actually were.

 

Whether we’re at work, in college, doing volunteer work or engaged in the never-ending role of parenting, we like to feel as if we’re in control, that we’ve got things handled. But sooner or later we encounter challenges or obstacles that seem beyond our capacity. As unsettling and unnerving as that may be, that’s actually a good thing.

 

When my late friend Dave was being mentored early in his Christian life by another man named Dave, he would pour own his frustrations and grumble about the problems he was facing. His mentor would simply smile and say, “Dave, you’re in a great position!” Hearing this would aggravate my friend, but eventually he realized Dave was right. His sense of inadequacy inevitably forced him to turn to the ultimate source of strength, Jesus Christ.

 

The apostle Paul, who as Saul the Pharisee seemed to believe he had the world by the tail, eventually came to the same realization. To wipe away Paul’s sense of self-sufficiency, God had given him “a thorn in the flesh,” an affliction of some sort that he never specified. Whatever it was, it kept him sufficiently humble and dependent on His Savior and Lord.

 

Paul wrote, “Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 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. 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” (2 Corinthians 12:7-10).

 

“When I am weak, then I am strong”? Are you kidding me, we’re tempted to ask. Strength, not weakness, is what it’s all about we’re told, whether in sports, politics, the business world, or another field of endeavor. 

 

And yet Paul, who had strength, status and worldly “stuff” that few others had prior to his Damascus Road encounter with Christ, came to understand his inadequacy was the path to true strength: “I consider everything a loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them mere rubbish, so that I may gain Christ” (Philippians 3:10).

 

Are you feeling weak today? Inadequate? You’re in a great position!

Discovering Strength in the Midst of Weakness

In our culture – most cultures, in fact – we practically worship strength. It’s been like that for as long as anyone can remember. Years ago, advertising gave us the image of the beefy beach bum flexing his biceps in front of swooning bathing beauties while a 100-pound weakling looked on in envy.

 

In sports, fans stare in awe at the massive offensive lineman in football who blasts openings in the opposing team’s defense for the running back, or his defensive counterpart who flings blockers aside as he races toward the quarterback. Baseball has hulking sluggers and their tape-measure homeruns, and in basketball we “ooh” and “aah” at towering athletes slam-dunking balls through the nets.

The movies depict strength in many ways. Superheroes, straight out of the comic books, muster their powers to engage in the perpetual battle of good vs. evil. Superman never imagined the feats of strength 21^st century superheroes perform. If you’re more into the animated types of heroes, you might remember characters like Popeye (with his spinach-infused biceps), the flying rodent Mighty Mouse (“Here I come to save the day!”), and even the villain-vanquishing Underdog, with his patented words of assurance, “There is no need to fear. Underdog is here!”

 

Our real-life, everyday world showcases strength in myriad ways. There’s military might, of course. And economic power. Political parties revel in flexing their executive and legislative muscles while they’re in power. The media seek to influence and even shape society through the power of the spoken and printed word. And in the work world, people in positions of leadership often leverage their strength to advance their agendas.

 

In the Bible, however, we find things much the opposite. As it says in 1 Corinthians 1:27, “But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.” The reason is simple: The Lord desires to receive the glory and honor He deserves, so He works through us despite our weaknesses and inadequacies.

 

Think of shepherd boy David, long before he rose to become king of Israel, conquering the towering giant Goliath, all nine feet of him, without using a conventional weapon of war. Veteran Israelite warriors had cowered before Goliath, so God manifested His power through li’l ole David, armed only with a slingshot and stone. As David had declared to the Philistine, “You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied” (1 Samuel 17:45).

 

How about Gideon, whom God called to lead the Israelites against the powerful Midianites? When the angel of the Lord charged Gideon to lead Israel against the massive Midianite army, he argued, “… ‘how can I save Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family.’ The Lord answered, ‘I will be with you, and you will strike down all the Midianites together’” (Judges 6:15-16). To ensure that the Israelites didn’t take the credit for victory, God even commanded Gideon to reduce his troops from 22,000 to a mere 300.

 

Strongman Samson had to lose his famous hair and eyesight before God would use him to exact vengeance against the scheming Philistines. In the moments before his death, Samson prayed, “O Sovereign Lord, remember me. O God, please strengthen me just once more, and let me with one blow get revenge on the Philistines…” (Judges 16:28). The Lord indeed strengthened Samson after he had been paraded into the pagan temple; pushing against the supporting pillars, we might say Samson ‘brought the house down.’

 

There are so many other biblical examples of God working through human weakness, but there’s perhaps none better than the apostle Paul, once a proud Pharisee who was humbled when he encountered Jesus Christ on the road to Damascus. Truly converted and transformed, Paul spoke often of his total dependence on God. Lest he might forget, the Lord gave him a “thorn in the flesh.”

 

Speaking of the debilitating impact of that unidentified “thorn,” the apostle Paul stated, “But [the Lord] 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. 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” (2 Corinthians 12:7-10).

 

What does this have to do with us? Aren’t we often encouraged by friends to “be strong” in the face of adversity? The principle is simple: During times of crisis, while we may be tempted to rely on our material resources, our mental and physical capabilities, and the help of others, God wants us to realize that our trust should be in Him alone.

 

This is a lesson best learned before circumstances become desperate. The Lord wants us to depend on Him at all times, not wait until we’ve exhausted all other possible options. He desires for us to wake up every morning and go to bed each night with the same thought running through our minds: “The Lord is my strength and my song, and He had become my salvation,” as it says in Exodus 15:2 and Psalm 118:14, and expressed similarly in many other passages.

We’re admonished in Ephesians 6:10 at all times to “be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power." Contrary to what our culture tells us, being weak isn't a bad thing.

Strength, in All of Its Weakness

Since the cardiac rehab center I used for the past 10 years closed, I’ve changed workout venues and undertaken a new fitness regimen. In the process, it’s caused me to think a lot about strength – what it is, and what it’s not.

Strength holds a lot of different meanings for folks. The word may cause us to think of the muscle-bound person that makes the free weights and weight machines in the gym cringe. Nations boast about military might, implying their enemies don’t dare try picking a fight. In sports, we often hear talk about “strength in numbers.” Businesses refer to “core competencies,” meaning their products, services and strategies that are the strongest.

I once heard a guy describe growing up in a female-dominated household. He said his mom was “strong as an acre of garlic.” (I’m not sure she was still alive to hear that description – but I do recall seeing him look over his shoulder as he said it.)

Bold criticism used to be defined as “strong statements,” but these days it seems everyone’s making comments that are bold, or brash, or bewildering. When everything that’s being said is “strong,” doesn’t that really mean that nothing is strong?

This classic photo of the RMS Titanic on the docks
of Southampton before its ill-fated voyage is an
historic example of weakness in strength.

Which provides a segue to my topic: Can strength become a weakness? We need look no further than the RMS Titanic, the supposed “unsinkable” passenger liner that came out a poor second in its encounter with an iceberg in the North Atlantic Ocean on April 15, 1912, costing more than 1,500 lives.

We have many biblical accounts of people weakened in moments of strength, including Samson, whose legendary strength seemed uncontainable – until he was seduced into revealing the source of his power. Strong and revered King David, called “a man after God’s heart,” caught a glimpse of a lovely young woman on a rooftop one evening, and his subsequent actions resulted in a series of tragic consequences.

More than one pastor has strongly asserted, “one area I will never fail is in the area of relationships,” only to leave the ministry in disgrace due to sexual sins. This is one reason the apostle Paul offered this word of caution: “So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall!” (1 Corinthians 10:12). Strengths can work to our benefit, but they can also lead to overconfidence, complacency, and self-destructive pride.

“The flip side of any strength is its weakness,” I once heard someone say. I’ve experienced that myself. Friends sometimes call me an encourager, but one of the greatest temptations I face is succumbing to discouragement. Just as coaches and managers in sports scout for weaknesses in strong opponents, maybe we need to “self-scout”’ to discern where our strengths might leave us vulnerable.

Looking at the converse of this is interesting. A weakness can actually become a strength – especially when we’re aware of it and deal with it appropriately: We can try to work on that area and strengthen it. We can strive to avoid situations where the weakness is exposed and can be exploited. Or better yet, turn to another source of strength.

The apostle Paul had been a proud, militant religious leader, persecuting and seeking to annihilate followers of Jesus Christ. However, after his life-changing meeting with Christ on the road to Damascus, the apostle recognized the weakness of his zeal and “strength” in opposing Him. He wrote about a “thorn in the flesh” that plagued him the rest of his life, an undisclosed affliction that ensured his humility.

Paul said three times he pleaded with God to remove the “thorn,” until he realized it was a blessing and not a curse. “…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. 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” (2 Corinthians 12:8-10).

Seems to me what Jesus really wants is not followers who flex their own muscle and resolve, but ones so in tune with their weakness and insufficiency that they constantly call upon Christ to empower them to do whatever He calls them to do.

As Paul wrote a bit earlier, “If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness” (2 Corinthians 11:30). Maybe if we become weak enough, we’ll see God exerting His strength through us in ways we could never have imagined.

Struggle Today, Strength Tomorrow

From time to time we read about machines that can enable us to lop off pounds simply by standing on them as they shake us all about. Kind of like doing the hokey-pokey, but with even less effort.

Fad diets promise to make us svelte within days, cancelling out months and even years of bad eating habits and poor lifestyle practices. “Take these pills.” “Eat this menu.” “Try this regimen for just five days.” This, we’re promised, will free us of inches and pounds without so much as breaking a sweat.

Sounds great, especially at this time of year when temptations of lavish holiday meals, seasonal treats, Christmas cookies and other high-taste, high-calorie offerings bombard our senses through New Year’s Day. I know this all too well – my body still hasn’t recovered from last year’s onslaught of Thanksgiving Day, a trip to Walt Disney World, and Christmas, and already another year-end round of festivities has arrived. Laying waste to your waistline isn’t a good thing!

Recently a sign caught my eye that fits all of us hoping to survive the holidays without turning into human replicas of the famed Goodyear blimp. It might bolster our determination when we try to return to sane eating within the next few weeks. It said, “Struggle Today, Strength Tomorrow.”

The problem is most of us seem allergic to struggle. We like shortcuts, pain-free living, anything but struggle and strain. We hate the adage, “No pain, no gain.” Instead, we want the gain without the pain. Easy does it – the easier the better. Overindulge? Sure. Overwork? No way.

But in reality, what the sign stated is true. Struggle today often does lead to strength tomorrow. Take, for example, the little caterpillar struggling to fashion a protective cocoon, then at the right time working and straining to get out of it, transforming into a beautiful butterfly through this wondrous, strenuous process.

After open-heart surgery in 2006, I resolved to go through the recommended rehab program, which included healthier eating, taking prescribed medications, and embarking in a regular exercise regimen several times a week. Nine years later I’m still taking my meds faithfully and exercising 5-6 times a week. I’ve slipped a bit on the eating part, but aim to get back on track there, too. The point is, it hasn’t been easy. Every day I go to the rehab center thinking, “I hate to exercise.” But at the end of the session, I honestly love to have exercised. And my overall physical health has benefited. The struggle indeed has resulted in strength.

Apparently this is why we’re often reminded in the Scriptures not to underestimate the value of the struggle. The apostle Paul, no stranger to adversity of many kinds, wrote, “we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us” (Romans 5:3-5).

In case we missed it the first time, another apostle – James – revisits this idea in his letter. “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything” (James 1:2-4).

Many of us long to possess strong, overcoming faith. These passages tell us that without it being tested by the fires of struggle, our faith will never exhibit the strength we would desire. Because faith, being “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1), becomes confirmed only when struggles give us no alternative other than to exercise it. And sometimes over a long, arduous period of time.

So I think it’s right to say, no pain – no gain. No struggle – no strength. 

Strength Through Weakness

The life of faith – biblical faith – requires living with paradox: Finding strength through weakness. Receiving through giving. Living by dying. Seeing by believing.

Over the next weeks I’ll address each of these seeming contradictions separately. Today, the conundrum of becoming strong by being weak.

In our society – and the world – strength is glorified and weakness is anathema. (I like that word – anathema. It sounds strong. In case you’re wondering, it means, “vehemently disliked.” Thus endeth the vocabulary lesson.) Choosing weakness over strength is counter-cultural, almost anti-American. Strong is cool; weak is wimpy.

We don’t encounter the phrase much anymore, but people used to talk about “pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps.” If you’re a cowboy that might still make sense, but “pull yourself up by your own loafers (or sandals)” doesn’t have the same impact. Recently someone told me, “I’m not sure where, but doesn’t the Bible say, ‘God helps those that help themselves’?” Uh, no, the Bible doesn’t say that. But it’s a philosophy many of us follow.

This ad from decades past, courtesy of the U.S.
All-Round Weightlifting Association,
reflects our disdain for weakness. 

Angelo Siciliano, aka Charles Atlas, capitalized on America’s infatuation with strength. Nicknamed “the 97-pound weakling,” he overcame a frail childhood to become a champion bodybuilder in the early to mid-1900s. Magazine and comic book ads depicted him as a skinny guy having sand kicked in his face by some bully, then returning the favor after becoming a muscle-bound powerhouse.

Strength conquers all was his message, and it appealed to many people. Our nation has maintained that mantra in war and in peacetime.

So it’s paradoxical to read Bible passages that stress the virtues of weakness. “The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth…. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak…but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint” (Isaiah 40:28-31).

Then in the New Testament, the apostle Paul carries on the same theme: “But he (God) 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. 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” (2 Corinthians 12:9-10).

Talk about a paradigm shift! We occasionally pray for God’s help, but the Bible asserts things are best when we’re helpless. That doesn’t sound logical.

I’ve pondered this a lot, even in my own life. Strangely enough, it’s true. Times I’ve felt closest to God were when I found myself at the end of my rope, all my resources exhausted, and not knowing what to do. Depleted of my own strength, I had no choice but to turn to God to take charge. Whenever I’ve done that, He always seemed to be saying, “Good. I’ve been waiting. All you had to do was ask.”

Recent decades have seen our nation adopt a secularized, who-needs-God type of mindset. And that’s understandable. When it seems we have things under control, we don’t feel much need for God. “I’ve got this” is our attitude.

Since World War II, people in the United States have prospered materially unlike any other nation in history. Private home ownership became normative. Multi-car families also became common. Today many of us have more than one of most things, from TVs to bathrooms. Even the poor in our country would rank among the wealthiest in many Third World nations.

So when you have everything you need, who needs God, right? Self-sufficiency, not deity, sits on the altar of worship.

Perhaps that’s why weakness, not strength, fosters spiritual growth. Powerlessness makes us more receptive to the all-powerful God.

Reading through the Scriptures, we see this pattern repeatedly. Noah and his family escaping the flood only through the ark God appointed him to build. Job suffering various afflictions. Abraham and Sarah, aging and without hope of having children together. Joseph in prison through no fault of his own. Moses and the Israelites pressed between a sea and some angry Egyptians. David, the victim of his own sexual sin and murderous cover-up. Impulsive Peter, caught up in his own cowardice.

And then there’s Paul, whose unidentified “thorn in the flesh” kept him humble. At the end of his life he didn’t boast about great success, but rather of having persevered through hardship. “For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time has come for my departure. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:6-7).

Oswald Chambers, in My Utmost for His Highest, notes, “The things we try to avoid and fight against – tribulation, sufferings, and persecution – are the very things that produce abundant joy in us…. A saint doesn’t know the joy of the Lord in spite of tribulation, but because of it.”

When we are forced to acknowledge our complete inadequacy, that our best efforts are wholly insufficient, only then can we discover God’s grace truly is sufficient.