Post by Jeff Gerke on Feb 14, 2008 11:56:31 GMT -5
This is another of those posts in which I lay out the theological framework first and then describe a story idea. So stay with me!
Like most Christians, I've always been intrigued by Paul's thorn in his flesh (1 Corinthians 12:7-10).
Many preachers and commentators have tried to figure out what that might be. They have suggested that it might be a physical ailment, illness, handicap, or disfigurement. Some have suggested it might be the results of being stoned and left for dead on his first missionary journey. Others think it might've been a more internal, fleshly distress, like anger or sexual temptation.
Certainly we Christians have seen in this ambiguity an open door to compare ourselves with Paul. "I've got a thorn in my flesh, too," by which we usually mean a recurring sin problem we seem to never be rid of. Stubborn sin.
But as I read the passage again this morning I was struck with an alternate interpretation, one that actually seems a lot more natural from the text.
Paul says the reason for this thorn was to keep him from becoming overly impressed with himself. So that's clue #1.
Clue #2 is that he calls it a "messenger from Satan," which in Greek is "angelos Satana." In other words, a demon. Or what else do you call an angel of Satan?
Clue #3 is that Paul repeatedly asked to be delivered from it (v. 8). That's a pretty reasonable prayer for a man of God, I'd think: Lord, get rid of this demon, please. But God keeps saying no. What's with that?
"I'm not going to get rid of it, Paul, because it's how I've chosen to work through you. You're a pretty impressive guy--a Hebrew's Hebrew, trained by the best, and all that--and you might just start taking credit for the things I'm doing through you. So I'm going to make everyone see you as the sad sack of the religious world. I'm going to heap every kind of abuse on you so that nobody can think you're this amazing success story. And yet despite your apparent status as major loser, I'm going to do incredible things through you. Then people will praise Me, not you."
Or at least that's how I have interpreted God's answer to Paul in verse 9: "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness." And don't forget God's foreboding promise about Paul in Acts 9:16: "I will show him how much he must suffer for My name's sake."
The biggie is clue #4. When God tells Paul He's not going to remove the "messenger from Satan" because that's how He's going to get more glory, look at what Paul says. He basically spells out his thorn in the flesh and what the demon is doing in his life, in words that say he's ready for the demon to "bring it on":
"Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ's sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong."
If Paul's thorn in his flesh was an illness or injury or a temptation toward some sin, why, when he's saying God should pour it on, would he name insults and persecution?
If his thorn was a tendency toward, say, anger, then wouldn't this speech have gone like this: "Therefore I am glad to get angry all the time. I'll get mad, break things, and slam my first through walls, for Christ's sake."
If his thorn were some physical defect, wouldn't his speech have sounded more like this: "Therefore I am well content to limp like Igor in front of kings and peasants and children. I welcome their laughter at the little deformed freak, for Christ's sake."
But he doesn't. Instead, he says that he's willing to accept hardship and unjust treatment and all kinds of affliction. In 2 Corinthians 11 he mentions some of his hardships:
"[I've been] beaten times without number, often in danger of death. Five times I received from the Jews thirty-nine lashes. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, a night and a day I have spent in the deep. I have been on frequent journeys, in dangers from rivers, dangers from robbers, dangers from my countrymen, dangers from the Gentiles, dangers in the city, dangers in the wilderness, dangers on the sea, dangers among false brethren; I have been in labor and hardship, through many sleepless nights, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure. (2 Corinthians 11:23-27)
It seems to me, then, that God gave Paul a traveling companion about whom we do not hear from the pulpit. Not Barnabas. Not Silas. Not Luke. Not even John Mark.
A demon.
And not just any demon but a demon who specialized in getting Paul in trouble. Getting him arrested and beat up and falsely accused.
Imagine this demon's job description: go with Paul wherever he goes; do your devil best to find ways to bring him misery; use your twisted creativity to find new ways to bring him into contact with the most unsavory characters you can find; make him a byword for hardships: Calamity Paul, Prison Paul, Jailhouse Jumper, Beatings Magnet. And then no one will want to turn to Christ. Bwahaha!
I mean, it had to be so bad so as to be comical. Let's see...new town: new prison. New town: new way to be abused.
So that's the story idea: Paul's ongoing relationship with his demonic traveling buddy. Paul knows he's there. We see from the Bible that Paul was a powerful spiritual warrior, accustomed to commanding demons. So what if had a running conversation with this demon?
What are you planning this time? You're not going to do prison again, are you? That's so Ephesus of you. Can't you be more creative than that? Now, back when they thought I was Hermes, that was pretty clever. Why not do that one again?
Of course the more the "messenger from Satan" heaped on him, the happier it made Paul--because he knew God's power would break out to the exact degree that Paul was smushed down. I could imagine him taunting the demon, daring him to do more, betting that he couldn't do any worse and that he'd lost his edge.
I'm thinking Lieutenant Dan yelling at God in Forrest Gump, or Captain Ahab's personal duel with Moby (the whale).
God knows what we need. He'll bring exactly the right kind of pressure onto us to move us toward a point of decision in which we either reject the change or surrender to His hand. Here we see Paul's moment of truth and acceptance of God's change. It's the turning point in his life.
It's a great picture of what we should be doing in our fiction. Your character's inner journey is exactly like this. He would like God to take away the hurt so he can go on living the way he'd prefer, but sometimes God keeps the pressure on--until the point where we can say, "I give up, then, God--bring it on."
Jeff
Like most Christians, I've always been intrigued by Paul's thorn in his flesh (1 Corinthians 12:7-10).
Many preachers and commentators have tried to figure out what that might be. They have suggested that it might be a physical ailment, illness, handicap, or disfigurement. Some have suggested it might be the results of being stoned and left for dead on his first missionary journey. Others think it might've been a more internal, fleshly distress, like anger or sexual temptation.
Certainly we Christians have seen in this ambiguity an open door to compare ourselves with Paul. "I've got a thorn in my flesh, too," by which we usually mean a recurring sin problem we seem to never be rid of. Stubborn sin.
But as I read the passage again this morning I was struck with an alternate interpretation, one that actually seems a lot more natural from the text.
Paul says the reason for this thorn was to keep him from becoming overly impressed with himself. So that's clue #1.
Clue #2 is that he calls it a "messenger from Satan," which in Greek is "angelos Satana." In other words, a demon. Or what else do you call an angel of Satan?
Clue #3 is that Paul repeatedly asked to be delivered from it (v. 8). That's a pretty reasonable prayer for a man of God, I'd think: Lord, get rid of this demon, please. But God keeps saying no. What's with that?
"I'm not going to get rid of it, Paul, because it's how I've chosen to work through you. You're a pretty impressive guy--a Hebrew's Hebrew, trained by the best, and all that--and you might just start taking credit for the things I'm doing through you. So I'm going to make everyone see you as the sad sack of the religious world. I'm going to heap every kind of abuse on you so that nobody can think you're this amazing success story. And yet despite your apparent status as major loser, I'm going to do incredible things through you. Then people will praise Me, not you."
Or at least that's how I have interpreted God's answer to Paul in verse 9: "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness." And don't forget God's foreboding promise about Paul in Acts 9:16: "I will show him how much he must suffer for My name's sake."
The biggie is clue #4. When God tells Paul He's not going to remove the "messenger from Satan" because that's how He's going to get more glory, look at what Paul says. He basically spells out his thorn in the flesh and what the demon is doing in his life, in words that say he's ready for the demon to "bring it on":
"Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ's sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong."
If Paul's thorn in his flesh was an illness or injury or a temptation toward some sin, why, when he's saying God should pour it on, would he name insults and persecution?
If his thorn was a tendency toward, say, anger, then wouldn't this speech have gone like this: "Therefore I am glad to get angry all the time. I'll get mad, break things, and slam my first through walls, for Christ's sake."
If his thorn were some physical defect, wouldn't his speech have sounded more like this: "Therefore I am well content to limp like Igor in front of kings and peasants and children. I welcome their laughter at the little deformed freak, for Christ's sake."
But he doesn't. Instead, he says that he's willing to accept hardship and unjust treatment and all kinds of affliction. In 2 Corinthians 11 he mentions some of his hardships:
"[I've been] beaten times without number, often in danger of death. Five times I received from the Jews thirty-nine lashes. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, a night and a day I have spent in the deep. I have been on frequent journeys, in dangers from rivers, dangers from robbers, dangers from my countrymen, dangers from the Gentiles, dangers in the city, dangers in the wilderness, dangers on the sea, dangers among false brethren; I have been in labor and hardship, through many sleepless nights, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure. (2 Corinthians 11:23-27)
It seems to me, then, that God gave Paul a traveling companion about whom we do not hear from the pulpit. Not Barnabas. Not Silas. Not Luke. Not even John Mark.
A demon.
And not just any demon but a demon who specialized in getting Paul in trouble. Getting him arrested and beat up and falsely accused.
Imagine this demon's job description: go with Paul wherever he goes; do your devil best to find ways to bring him misery; use your twisted creativity to find new ways to bring him into contact with the most unsavory characters you can find; make him a byword for hardships: Calamity Paul, Prison Paul, Jailhouse Jumper, Beatings Magnet. And then no one will want to turn to Christ. Bwahaha!
I mean, it had to be so bad so as to be comical. Let's see...new town: new prison. New town: new way to be abused.
So that's the story idea: Paul's ongoing relationship with his demonic traveling buddy. Paul knows he's there. We see from the Bible that Paul was a powerful spiritual warrior, accustomed to commanding demons. So what if had a running conversation with this demon?
What are you planning this time? You're not going to do prison again, are you? That's so Ephesus of you. Can't you be more creative than that? Now, back when they thought I was Hermes, that was pretty clever. Why not do that one again?
Of course the more the "messenger from Satan" heaped on him, the happier it made Paul--because he knew God's power would break out to the exact degree that Paul was smushed down. I could imagine him taunting the demon, daring him to do more, betting that he couldn't do any worse and that he'd lost his edge.
I'm thinking Lieutenant Dan yelling at God in Forrest Gump, or Captain Ahab's personal duel with Moby (the whale).
God knows what we need. He'll bring exactly the right kind of pressure onto us to move us toward a point of decision in which we either reject the change or surrender to His hand. Here we see Paul's moment of truth and acceptance of God's change. It's the turning point in his life.
It's a great picture of what we should be doing in our fiction. Your character's inner journey is exactly like this. He would like God to take away the hurt so he can go on living the way he'd prefer, but sometimes God keeps the pressure on--until the point where we can say, "I give up, then, God--bring it on."
Jeff
