NOTES for Co2 12:1-10

Speaking about his spiritual experience, Paul clearly distinguishes two different people within himself. Of course, this is not about some schizophrenic splitting of personality.

Here before us again is that objectively existing duality from which even those who live in the Kingdom cannot escape completely until the end of time. The apostle, of course, understands perfectly well that the person who was caught up to the "third heaven" (vv. 1-4) is himself. Plainly, the experience of being in the "third heaven" was an experience of the Kingdom, experienced by Paul with such vividness. But he also understands that his present spiritual state is still very far from what it should have been if he had been able to contain within himself the life of the Kingdom in the fullness that was revealed to him in his best moments (vv. 5-6). Paul, like every spiritually sober person, realizes that our spiritual state is determined not by what we can see, but by what we are able to contain. It is no accident that he speaks of a certain "thorn in the flesh," as he himself puts it, from which he never managed to be freed despite all his requests to God (vv. 7-9).

Plainly, the request was left unanswered for a reason, and the apostle understood this: if things had been otherwise, Paul could easily have thought that spiritually he fully corresponded to the revelations he had received. Meanwhile, he understands perfectly well that what is involved is, in essence, a kind of advance gift. An advance gift received by everyone who once comes to share in the Kingdom. This is not surprising: otherwise no one would ever be able even to see it. But the first sharing in the life of the Kingdom does not mean that the path is already complete. It continues further so that, once having shared in the Kingdom, the one who has shared in it would more and more contain it within himself, take into himself the breath of God with which the Kingdom is permeated, being spiritually transformed and growing. And the less strong and perfect a person feels himself to be, the easier it is for him to walk this path (v. 10). The path that leads to the fullness awaiting the inhabitants of the Kingdom at the end of time.

Paul, as always, expresses very deep and at the same time very ordinary things in an emotional and paradoxical form. And the point here is not only that the apostle simply gives vivid form to the most banal thought: "Well, pride is bad, while humility and sorrow are good." That is hardly the essence of the passage. After all, not all pride, or "boasting, self-exaltation," is the same, nor is all humility. The same is true of sorrows.

But the fact that various human achievements, even the most elevated and well-intentioned, very often can lead a person into the thickets of arrogance and conceit is well known. And all because these great accomplishments, whether the conversion of nations to Christianity, the building of almshouses and shelters, or the deepest mystical illuminations, mean nothing in themselves for the person carrying them out or participating in them. Only what changes the heart, making it more sensitive to evil and to good, to the pain and joy of each individual person we meet on our path, only this has any value. Thanks to this alone a person gradually becomes truly human, a person capable of becoming like Christ, the Universal Man and God-man...

Our own pain or life's hardships, received as a gift from God, bring us closer to ourselves and lower us from the clouds of fantasy to the ground of reality. They show human limitation and smallness and, at the same time, the great power of human courage and trust: everything that helps us sense, as fully as possible, the presence of the Other both amid gray everyday life and in extremely modest living conditions, in communication with the most ordinary people, during exhausting workdays, in every insignificant moment...

Paul mentions a certain person who had a vivid spiritual and mystical experience, a distinct experience of the reality of the spiritual world that opened to him in a vision. Evidently the apostle in this case is speaking about himself, but in the third person. And he says that he, Paul, could boast of such a person, but not of himself. At first glance this is a kind of deliberate self-abasement, but on closer examination everything the apostle says fits fully into his understanding of his own Christian service, and of all Christian service in general.

Paul describes not what he himself did, but what happened to him. To many, spiritual and mystical experience appears to be some special spiritual achievement of a person, an indicator of his spiritual height. Meanwhile, this is not quite so. Of course, nothing in life happens for no reason, but it is still important to remember that any kind of experience like the one described by the apostle belongs not to what a person does, but to what happens to him. It does not depend on the person what he will see or feel: he will see what is shown to him and feel what he is given to feel.

There is no special merit of the person here: when the issue is experience like that described by Paul, we usually do not get to choose what to look at and what to experience. Meanwhile, God's power and the breath of the Kingdom reveal themselves quite distinctly in this case. In this way the apostle wants to say that the brightest pages of his spiritual life were experienced not thanks to his own merits or achievements, but simply because he was able to trust God completely and open himself to Christ. As a human being he has no achievements or successes; and if he has any, they do not relate to the main thing with which his service is connected. Everything that relates to his apostolic service, to his witness, does not belong to him and can in no way be considered something deserved by him.

That is why the apostle speaks of himself in the third person: he feels himself, as it were, to be another person when he experiences something like what he mentions in his letter. What was opened to him so little belongs to him that what happens to him at that moment is experienced by him as happening to another person. Such is every Christian service: God's breath and the life of the Kingdom do not belong by right or merit to any person; they can only be given, and the Christian has to live by what has been given to him, bearing witness to what does not belong to him.

Therefore Paul does not think of any self-assertion, unlike the disputants who were so numerous in the Corinthian church: one can assert oneself only on the basis of what is one's own, or what one considers to be such, and the apostle had nothing of that kind. Nor did he need to assert himself: the life of the Kingdom that he had received as a gift was fully enough for him.

It would seem, a strange intention - glory in his personal weakness. And what mean the words "my strength opens totally ("is made perfect") in the weakness"? Do they mean that God can act till a defined limit through a strong person, and at a certain moment, when His strength shows itself in fullness, it is only through a weak, powerless person? And if that was the case, where is this limit? And why does it exist at all? Does our weakness delight God, Who intended us for the Kingdom, where God's power, quite as His love, is revealed in all its fullness, giving to each in the measure, which the man is in the state to contain both? Why the Kingdom needs weak and powerless inhabitants.

Apparently, the answer to all these questions is the human nature itself conceived and created perfect, but corrupted by the fall. If it was not this corruption, man could contain any strength given to him by God, could contain completely naturally and organically, also naturally and organically would have become the executor of God's plans. But in order that what we contain becomes really natural and organic, man also had to contain naturally and organically in himself the measure of God's love, which would correspond to the measure of the strength received from God. And if with strength, problem doesn’t occur in general to the fallen man, he is always ready to accept it, then with love he usually has many problems.

Everyone is ready to feel powerful and to show this power, and even maybe in God's work, because we respect power, and to witness our membership in such an employer, as the Creator of the world is quite prestigious. But not too much with the love for the one who would like to assert himself to the detriment of the strength received from God: because love exactly supposes no self-assertion, if the inhabitants of this world approve love, it is much more verbally or when they hope to receive from it a profit for themselves.

Generally to love seriously, is not really prestigious in the fallen world, the one who knows how to love like that is looked, at best as a blessed in the popular sense of the word, in which is usually spoken of a harmless madman. And at worst such a person is also looked as a madman, but as a dangerous madman, with all the consequences ensuing from such a relation. It is not surprising that the fallen man with all his being will seek God's strength and also with all his being push away from him His love. And only when to man won’t be any more possibilities of resisting God's action, he can accept together both.

Why, one wonders, would Paul be content in persecutions, in weakness, or, for example, when he is insulted? And what do the words "when I am weak, then I am strong" mean? At first glance such a position can seem strange. Indeed, only masochists rejoice in suffering; normal people are not like that. Paul, however, was clearly no masochist. What, then, could make him glad?

It should be noted, however, that the matter is not, strictly speaking, joy; the corresponding Greek word denotes rather a calm and balanced state of spirit, which the apostle evidently preserves in spite of the circumstances that have arisen, circumstances that do not at all dispose one to calmness of spirit. But why does such calmness of spirit become a sign of strength? And why does only weakness make Paul strong?

One could say, of course, that the strength of a person's conviction in what he confesses and preaches is generally tested precisely in times of persecution. But the matter is still not only this. The matter is the very nature of the Kingdom. And first of all in the fact that the Kingdom, according to the Savior's word, is "not of this world." And if so, if it lives by laws fundamentally different from the laws of the untransfigured world, then the power of the Kingdom is clearly not determined by what happens to a person in this world. Such independence in itself is the best witness that a person truly belongs to the Kingdom and lives its life, a life that the evil of the world is unable to take away from him because it has nothing in common with it.

But there is another side to this situation as well. It is precisely the feeling of the presence of strength within oneself at moments of complete weakness, that is, when one knows for certain that one has no strength at that moment and cannot have any because there is nowhere for it to come from, that is the best proof that this strength is truly from God. At other moments God's strength can sometimes be confused with the powers of this world, with the natural energy inherent in every healthy person. But when there is no natural energy at all, one can be sure that any strength one feels within oneself is from God. And that means the work for which it is given is God's work.

Why, one wonders, would Paul be content in persecutions, in weakness, or, for example, when he is wronged? And what do the words "when I am weak, then I am strong" mean? At first glance such a position may seem strange. Indeed, only masochists rejoice in suffering; normal people are not like that. Yet Paul was obviously not a masochist. What, then, could make him glad? It should be noted, however, that this is not exactly about joy; the corresponding Greek word denotes rather a calm and balanced state of spirit, which the apostle evidently preserves despite the circumstances, circumstances that are in no way conducive to calmness of spirit.

But why does such calmness of spirit become a sign of strength? And why does only weakness make Paul strong? Of course, one could say that the strength of a person's conviction in what he confesses and preaches is tested precisely in times of persecution. But the matter, it appears, is not only this. The point is the very nature of the Kingdom. And above all, that the Kingdom, according to the Savior's word, is "not of this world." And if so, if it lives according to laws fundamentally different from the laws of the untransformed world, then the strength of the Kingdom is obviously not determined by what happens to a person in this world. Such independence in itself is the best testimony that a person truly belongs to the Kingdom and lives its life, a life that the evil of the world is unable to take away from him because it has nothing in common with it.

But there is another side to this situation as well. It is precisely the sense of the presence of strength within oneself in moments of complete weakness, that is, when you know for certain that you have no strength at that moment and cannot have any because there is nowhere for it to come from, that is the best proof that this strength truly comes from God. At other moments God's strength can sometimes be confused with the powers of this world, with the natural energy inherent in every healthy person. But when there is no natural energy at all, you can be sure that any strength you feel within yourself is from God. And that means the work for which it is given is God's work.

This verse contains a very important thought that the apostle Paul expresses repeatedly in different formulations: "when I am weak, then I am strong." He also observes that he "takes pleasure in weaknesses." In the Greek text we see the words "eudoko en asteneias" - I find pleasure, I am content in weaknesses. Within the framework of the Word of God the thought is so simple and natural that it would seem there is nothing to discuss. But how impossible the apostle's words appear from an earthly, human point of view!

There is a wonderful parable by Saint Francis of Assisi about perfect joy, which a person acquires when he is completely deprived of everything and rejected by everyone. The attempts of Christians to do good to everyone while demanding nothing in return are directed precisely toward acquiring this joy. Because this is the way of becoming like the crucified God. Any attempt to find a worthy reward and gratitude for the good one has done is natural and understandable, but it leads far away from this joy.

Interesting, from what Paul is satisfied in the persecutions, in the powerlessness, or for example, when he is offended? What mean the words "when I am weak, then am I strong"? At first sight such a position can seem strange. Indeed, only the masochists can be happy of sufferings, such thing is unusual for normal people. However it is clear that Paul was not a masochist. What could thus delight him? It is moreover necessary to notice that it is not really about joy; the Greek corresponding word indicates rather the peace and well-balanced state of mind, which the apostle keeps, obviously in spite of circumstances, which are not at all disposed in the tranquility of the spirit. But why such tranquility of the soul becomes a sign of power? And why only powerlessness makes Paul strong? It would of course have been possible to say that the strength of persuasion of man in what he proclaims and preaches is generally verified in particular in times of persecutions and pursuits. But the problem, apparently, is not only in it.

The problem is in the nature of the Kingdom. And first of all in the fact that the Kingdom, according to the word of the Savior "is not of this world". And if that was the case, if he lives according to the laws which differ fundamentally from the laws of the non transformed world, then the power of the Kingdom, is not obviously determined by what happens with man in this world. Such an independence is itself the best testimony of the fact that man really belongs to the Kingdom and lives its life, the life, that the evil world is unfit to take away from him because the Kingdom has nothing common with the evil world. But there is another side in this situation.

Particularly the feeling of the presence in oneself of power in the moments of complete powerlessness, i.e. when you know exactly that there isn’t and can’t be at the moment in you any power because one does not know where to take them, is the best proof that this power really comes from God. At other moments one can sometimes confuse the power of God with the power of this world, with the natural energy, inherent to every healthy man. And well, when there is no natural energy, one can be sure that any power that he feels in himself comes from God. And thus the work, for which it is given, is the work of God.

This verse contains a very important idea, which Apostle Paul expresses many times in different formulations: "when I am weak, then am I strong". He also notices that he "takes pleasure in infirmities". In the Greek text we read the words " eudoko it asteneias " - I find pleasure, I am satisfied in infirmities. Within the framework of God's Word the idea is so simple and natural that we could wonder: what could be said here again? But how the words of the apostle might seem impossible from the earth, human point of view!

There is a remarkable parable of Saint Francis of Assisi on the perfect joy that man obtains, being completely deprived of everything and repudiated by all. It is in particular subject to this joy that are directed the attempts of Christians to do good to all, asking nothing in return. Because this is the way of assimilation of the crucified God. Any attempt to find a just reward and gratitude for the done good - is something natural and understandable, but taking very far aside from this joy.