Keeping the Empty Empty--November 21, 2019

Keeping the Empty Empty--November 21, 2019

"So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong." [2 Corinthians 12:9b-10]

Jesus isn't spinach.  And none of us is Popeye.

I think sometimes we treat Jesus like we expect him to give us superpowers, or some kind of secret spiritual insights.  Or at least that he'll make us, y'know, "strong"... or "tough"... or somehow measurably "better."  We talk about having Christ in our lives like he is simply a performance-enhancing substance, rather than the abiding presence of a living person.  Popular spirituality likes to quote the verse from Philippians (completely forgetting the context) that says, "I can do all things through him who strengthens me," and sometimes you almost get the impression that some folk believe it means he'll improve your bench-press or your average running speed, or that just pronouncing the word "Jesus" will give you the extra stamina to work your three jobs and make it to your kid's parent-teacher conferences on time with a smile.

We treat Jesus, in other words, like we think he is a spiritual vitamin--like the can of spinach Popeye would swallow in a single gulp to power up his muscles so he could save his darling Olive Oyl.  And I think part of what we are assuming there is that Christ can't abide things... or people... that are weak somehow to just remain... you know, weak.  We assume that if Jesus is going to show up, he will get rid of what is weak and change us--as though the weakness itself is unacceptable.  And so, like mild-mannered Clark Kent becoming Superman with a swiping of eyeglasses, or like Prince Adam becoming He-Man (there's a dated 1980s pop culture reference for you!), we imagine that when Jesus' presence shows up in our lives, it will mean that he will get rid of our weaknesses, because we assume they are bad.  Perhaps the "power" he brings will wear off if we haven't prayed hard enough, or it will evaporate after so much time, but we somehow seem to think that Jesus' job is to get rid of weakness rather than to work through it.

But that's not the promise.  And that's not how Paul sees things from his own life.  This whole passage is about Paul having to change his expectations.  He had prayed for Jesus to come and take away the malady, the weakness, the "thorn in the flesh," the empty feeling inside, only to have the Lord respond by saying, basically, "No."  As in, "No, I'm not taking away the weakness or filling the empty space, but I am present in a surprising and powerful way through your weakness."  That means Paul stayed weak, stayed empty, stayed with the thorn in his side... and yet that Christ was with him through the struggle.  There is no spinach-for-Popeye moment where Jesus makes his muscles grow so that Paul can punch Bluto.  Instead the presence of Christ is more powerful and visible when it comes through Paul's weakness, rather than vanquishing or banishing it.

And to be clear, this is how the presence of Christ is for us as well.   Instead of being just some spiritual pick-me-up to pull us out of the dark cloud, Christ is the one who walks with us through the darkness... while it is still dark.  Instead of imagining that our empty fuel tanks need some spiritual product named "Jesus" to show up like spinach for Popeye to fill us back up, perhaps it is more that we are empty like the body of an acoustic guitar, and that the empty space, rather than being a weakness, is actually the conduit for the music.  And in our quest to "be strong" or "have power" or "be filled," we are missing the point of God's greatest, most grace-filled power.  Christ is present with us, not in order to tell us that our weakness or emptiness was unacceptable until he fills it in or juices us up, but to be with us in our weaknesses and empty places as they are, and through them to do what brawn and bulk cannot.

The same Paul who wrote here about discovering Christ's presence in our weakness (rather than getting rid of our weakness as if it is unworthy of him) would say a few sentences later, "I will most gladly spend and be spent for you.  If I love you more, am I to be loved less?"  I think there is something profoundly beautiful about that thought.  Paul has come to a point where he is no longer seeking to have his empty places filled back in, or his weaknesses shored up.  He sees now that the whole point of life in Christ is to give yourself away--and therefore that the emptiness is an asset to be held open, like the sound chamber of a guitar, rather than filled in with something else.  He sees now that the weakness he had been so afraid of is actually a gift of grace.

This is how Christ is present with us day by day--in our weakness, rather than getting rid of it, flowing through our empty places, rather than filling them back in.  So much of our lives is spent believing that we are unacceptable because of our weak places, or that we will only know Jesus' presence once we get rid of the things we see as flaws and foibles.  But Jesus has been saying all along, "I am here right now--with you, just as you are--and that will be enough."

Indeed.  Jesus is enough.  He always has been.

Lord Jesus, we lift up to you the things we thought were not good enough for you to use: our weakness and empty places.  Let us see your presence and surprising power right there in the midst of them.