A Thorn in the Flesh

Homily for the Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The two towering figures of early Christianity are, of course, Jesus and Paul. Jesus was a carpenter turned prophet, who managed to attract a modest following but who came to a tragic end, having been executed by the Roman occupiers of Judea. Jesus’ followers, however, believed him to be more than a prophet; for them he was the Son of God who announced the coming of God’s reign and called people to repentance and faith. Jesus never left the confines of his ancestral homeland. He preached only to Jews living there. By way of contrast, Paul was a Jew from the Diaspora. He came to Jerusalem to study with a leading rabbi of the day and became a staunch and active opponent of the Christian movement. To the surprise of many in that movement, Paul claimed to have had an encounter with the Risen Jesus. That encounter eventually lead Paul to become early Christianity’s most skillful exponent of its beliefs. Paul believed that the gospel was more than another way of being a Jew, so he took the message of Jesus to non-Jews all around the eastern Mediterranean region before finally being himself executed by the Romans. This is what any historian would say about Jesus and Paul.

The Gospels and Paul’s letters say much more. They fill in details in which historians may not be interested — details that give a more complete picture. Yes, it is true that more than any other two individuals, Jesus and Paul were responsible for the Christian movement which today has more than 3.4 billion adherents worldwide. Today’s Scriptures remind us, however, that they did not always enjoy great success. Most of Jesus’ following came from the villages around the Sea of Galilee where he developed a reputation for being a captivating preacher and a compassionate healer. When Jesus made a visit to Nazareth his hometown where he had lived most of his life the place of his roots a place where people knew him by name, the townspeople were unimpressed. “Is he not the carpenter…?” (Mark 6:3), they asked. The famous healer and preacher was not the Jesus they had known. It was all too much for them. Paul too had his problems. Some of the Christians of Corinth were falling for false prophets who boasted of ecstasies, visions, and miracles. Though Paul established the church at Corinth, there were some who wanted to push him aside. He was a Jew, after all, and not a good speaker. Other members of the community were far better suited for leadership. This may have led to bouts of depression in Paul: “a thorn in the flesh was given to me . . . to keep me from being too elated,” (2 Cor 12:7). Both Jesus and Paul knew what it meant to be shunted to the periphery of their respective communities.

Gallons of ink and far too many words have been used to describe this “thorn in the flesh.” In general, we are all too interested in what particular chronic situation is causing Paul such pain. He may have been struggling with a physical disability. He admits in one of his letters that his eyesight is so poor that he depends upon a scribe to write his letters for him which he then signs in large, bold letters. It may have been a psychological pain that he was experiencing. This is common among people who have a special relationship with God. We know now, years after her death, that Mother Teresa of Calcutta suffered from what she called “the absence of God.” Other Saints have called it by other names. Whether it was physical or psychological or even emotional distress, concentrating on the cause of Paul’s discomfort is fruitless toil. Far more beneficial for us is his contention that God has told him, in answer to his prayers, that God’s grace is enough for him.

I don’t think that it is too bold a claim to make that every human being has experienced some sort of physical, psychological, or emotional pain that could be called a thorn in the flesh. The loss of a loved one, a diagnosis of a terminal disease, chronic migraine headaches, organic depression, psychoses and neuroses, or a physical disability – all are a cause of suffering in our lives. There is a story about a woman by the name of Clare Booth Luce whose daughter was killed in a tragic automobile accident. She was caught up in an ever-deepening depression. During that time Bishop Fulton Sheen was a popular television evangelist. Though she was not Catholic, she sought him out in the hopes that the Catholic religion would help her overcome her depression. At one point, Bishop Sheen began to talk of the goodness of God. She interrupted him at that point and said, “If God is so good, why did he take my daughter from me?” Bishop Sheen responded very quietly, “Perhaps because God knew that this would draw you back to him.”

St. Paul tells us all that suffering is a part of human life. All of us will one day experience some sort of pain or suffering which we will beg God to relieve. Paul tells us that he begged God three times to heal his pain. The response he received is the same response that we receive in answer to such prayers. “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” If we unite our pain to that which Jesus experienced on the cross, that pain can also be redemptive. God can work through our pain to bring us to a closer relationship with him or to do the same thing for one of our loved ones.

In the Eucharist today, we are inundated with God’s grace. This Sacrament is the very definition of infinite, unconditional love. God’s grace can turn our weakness into a powerful witness to remind people that our weakness can be used by God to prove his power.