Given the degree to which men and women like Paul suffered in the first century the world would consider it a wonder that they were ever respected enough by others to have an impact to the extent they did. They were beaten down, humiliated, arrested, and often even put to death. But what the world might not understand is that the punishment that they often endured came not because of weakness, but because of strength; not because of confusion, but rather conviction. There was one particular thing, though we know not specifically what it was, that bothered Paul more than anything else he had endured in life. He only refers to it as a “thorn in the flesh,” and he desperately wanted it taken away. In fact, he wrote about it in II Corinthians 12:7-8 and said, “And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance of the revelations, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure. For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might be taken from me.” Whatever this “thorn in the flesh” was it was driving Paul absolutely crazy. It was wearing him thin, but he would not allow it to wear him out. And when on occasion Paul would fall to his knees and beseech the Lord to remove this trial from his life, the world, no doubt, looked at Paul as being weak. But in God’s response and Paul’s reaction we learn something about the strength shown by a commitment to prayer. He wrote that God said to him, “my grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness” (II Corinthians 12:9a). And to the world this would seem to add more confusion than clarity, but as a Christian Paul understood and replied, “Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong” (vs. 9b-10). In whatever state Paul found himself, he knew that true weakness was found in attempted independence; but in reality, true strength came through a complete dependence upon God. And for that cause, Paul would bow his knees.
Prayer is a Christian responsibility and opportunity that we can safely say can never be practiced too much. If I were to literally spend twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year in prayer, it could not possibly be too much. Prayer is that effective when it is practiced fervently and effectually. But it, though, stands as one of the most neglected areas of any Christian life. There may be token times when we pray out of tradition such as before meals, or maybe even before we go to bed, times at which we should pray. But we should be careful not to find ourselves instead of falling to pray, falling prey to those vain repetitions of which we are warned (Matthew 6:7). We can and should be a people of ceaseless prayer (I Thessalonians 5:17), because it is in that time of supposed weakness, that we truly derive strength.
Stephen Van Dulken tells the story that, “On February 26,1829, a Jewish boy named Loeb Strauss was born in a cottage in the Bavarian village of Buttenheim. As a young man, Loeb changed his name to Levi and wound up in California, where he opened a textile company in San Francisco. One day a gold miner walked into Levi’s shop and assailed the young merchant. ‘Look at these,’ said the miner, pointing to the pants. ‘I bought ‘em six months ago, and now they’re full of holes!’ When Levi asked why, the miner explained, ‘We work on our knees most of the time.’ ‘What you need is some really strong material,’ replied Levi. ‘We have some canvas. It’s used to make tents. If we make your trousers out of canvas, I’m sure they won’t get holes.’ A tailor was called, and presently the miner had a set of trousers—and the rest is history. Soon miners across the West were wearing Levi Strauss’s jeans.” While that story is more historical and informational, there is one point that we can draw from it. Like that miner, Christians, too, do most of our work on our knees.