High up on a list of things we don’t talk enough about are the themes of weakness and vulnerability in Christian life and ministry, so I was glad recently to discover two studies of the theme.
The first is David Alan Black’s Paul, Apostle of Weakness.
In this short book, he teases out the way in which weakness is a general way of
describing the human condition, and something which has a particular significance
for Christians:
“There are two counterbalancing emphases in Paul’s
teaching: a solidarity with Adam by which all humanity under the influence of
the natural sphere inherit the generic characteristics of weakness; and a
solidarity with Christ by which human weakness under the influence of the Holy
Spirit is transformed into a showplace of the divine on earth and a badge of honour.” (p155)
“Paul’s view of weakness, regardless of how highly
developed it may be, is not to be understood only as an abstract doctrine, for
it was developed in view of actual conditions. In the first place, weakness
impresses upon us the reality of our finiteness and dependence on God. Human
attempts are completely useless to please God; with all our effort, we can do
nothing. It is just this attitude that Paul declares when he says that he is
weak. He can claim no credit for any of his successes for he knows he has been
sustained by God. If he has achieved anything, it is only by God’s power
working through a weak, yet yielded, vessel. Thus human initiative, human
boasting, and human merit have no place in the thought of the apostle Paul.
Likewise, Paul teaches that God’s way of exhibiting
power is altogether different from our way. We try to overcome our weakness;
God is satisfied to use weakness for his own special purposes. Too many
Christians become disheartened over their infirmities, thinking that only if
they were stronger in themselves they could accomplish more for God. But this
point of view, despite its popularity, is altogether a fallacy. God’s means of
working, rightly understood, is not by making us stronger, but by making us
weaker and weaker until the divine power alone is clearly manifested in our
lives.” (p.161-62)
There is then something creaturely about our weakness that we
need to embrace. We are dependent and weak. But there is also something deeply counter-cultural
here: the world wants to shake off this creaturely dependence and assert its strength
and self-sufficiency. That is why we are so prone to kick against our weakness.
And that is why God works our salvation in a way that confronts us with our own
weakness and calls us to embrace it in the footsteps of Jesus. He gives grace
to the humble but opposes the proud.
The danger, as Black says, is that we become disheartened and
buy into a different vision of life. This is where the second piece comes in: John
Barclay’s superb article Security and Self-Sufficiency: A Comparison of Paul
and Epictetus (in Ex Auditu, vol 24, 2008). In this article, Barclay
compares two visions of human life. One involves a stability and security that
is able to rise above external circumstances and maintain a steady
imperviousness to grief and upset. Of course we must show outward grief to sympathise
with others in their distress, but we must not let that upset our equilibrium
or make our happiness dependent on another.
In many ways that sounds wise, and
very contemporary, advice, but this is not Barclay’s exposition of Paul. It is
his account of self-sufficiency in the Stoic philosopher Epictetus, an outlook
summarised by Socrates:
“If a person can hurt me, what I am engaged in amounts to
nothing; if I wait for someone else to help me, I am nothing.”
Barclay: Epictetus thinks that it is possible to live a life
free from the sorts of passions that so often shipwreck lives and ruin society:
free from grief or distress that cause emotional collapse… free from fear and
anxiety regarding the future; free from the anger, envy, lust, ambition that
cause us to harm others; in short, free from every passion that represents the
frustration that what we want to happen has not happened or may not
happen.
When we turn to Paul there is some overlap of course. He believes
that by the Spirit we can bear the fruit of the Spirit and put to death evil
desires (Gal 5). He speaks of learning to be content regardless of material
circumstances (Phil 4), and there is a confidence regarding the future (Rom 5,
8), but what Barclay develops are the ways Paul departs from Epictetus. In particular,
the way in which Paul’s emotions are hitched to the welfare of his churches. “We
live if you stand firm in the Lord” (1 Thess 3:8), Epaphroditus’ death would
have caused Paul “sorrow upon sorrow,” (Phil 2:27), and he frequently writes
with tears and in fear that his labours might have been in vain (Gal 4:11, 1
Thess 3:5).
So, how to explain this willingness to be so emotionally vulnerable? Barclay mentions two things. First, “Paul’s vision of mutual
dependence.” Epictetus’ relationships are one-way – willing to serve others but
not to be affected by them – but Paul constantly makes himself dependent on
others, seeking their prayers, and opening his heart to them (2 Cor 6:11). In
all this, the body metaphor is central. Every part of the body needs every
other part. That's what life in the church is all about.
Barclay again: “Mutual encouragement, mutual struggle, and
mutual dependency are for Paul core constituents of life in Christ. It is only
by this means that his joy can be complete. The God on whose encouragement he
relies supplies his needs through others, and he is desperately at a loss when
they fail to play their part.”
Of course, with this alone, Paul would still have a hard time convincing
Epictetus that his is a more excellent way, but there is an additional factor:
eschatology.
“The frustration which Epictetus works so hard to
eradicate is for Paul an inevitable feature of the ‘the present evil age’ (Gal
1:4). For as long as Christ is putting all his enemies under his feet, and for
as long as death, the last enemy, is undefeated (1 Cor 15:20-28), there is no
security in this world. In other words, it is only on the eschatological
horizon that Paul sees the well-ordered universe that Epictetus takes for
granted as the present condition of life. Whereas Epictetus therefore expects
and finds the possibility of human fulfilment, so long as correct judgments are
made in accordance with the reason we have been given, Paul is prepared to
defer that fulfilment to a future that is only partially and inadequately
adumbrated in the present.”
This is the secret. In the life, death and resurrection of
Jesus, Paul sees that God is at work through weakness and calling out a people
who are to be bound to one another in mutual dependence. In the present that
will mean bearing with all the griefs and sadness that inevitably come from
serving a far-from-sinless church. Epictetus would teach us to close our
hearts. Paul tells us to open our eyes to the world to come and to press on, open-hearted.