I love 
. Do you? Click here.
Copyright © 1994 by Mike McMillan. Not to be reproduced for profit without the permission of the author.
A while ago now, I wrote an article on 'the imitation of Paul' which maintained, among other things, that:
No man could have survived what Paul did in his own strength - even without his sufferings, thirty years of such a schedule would burn anyone out. Yet he did not burn out; living waters prevented him.
I would still maintain that nobody could have survived it in his own strength. But, having been through 'burnout' myself since I wrote that article, I would no longer maintain that Paul did not burn out. I believe now that his strength failed him, as it fails any of us when we work too hard, too long. But Paul failed in a godly way. It is, certainly, best not to burn out at all; but if one must burn out, let it be like this.
Re-reading the earlier article, I put Paul on a pedestal; an easy thing to do with the man I consider the greatest merely human person who ever lived in terms of his impact on history (and on my own life), and a man whom I identify with strongly: an intellectual with passion. But, as Paul himself says in the book from which I will be mainly drawing, 2 Corinthians, I have ceased to regard him from a worldly point of view (2 Co 5:16). He is actually a far more accessible, and imitable, man than he is a superhero; and, I think, rather more likeable as well.
Burnout, or stress breakdown (sometimes known as a 'nervous breakdown') is not madness or weakness. It is described by Australian psychiatrist William Wilkie in Understanding Stress Breakdown (Greenhouse, 1985) as consisting of three stages:
All three stages constitute 'stress breakdown'; all three call for rest, relief of stress, and sleep as the primary treatment. The people most likely to suffer from these problems are people with high standards for themselves and others, low self-esteem, and a tendency to put the needs of others ahead of their own needs, resent this, and then feel guilty about the resentment they feel. This is the 'coping personality', the kind of person who will always be called on to do an extra job and will always accept, who make themselves indispensable partly because they don't trust anyone else to do as good a job. These are not what is usually regarded as 'weak' people; they are the ones who get an unbelievable amount accomplished, though they are usually dissatisfied with their performance. They are often easily manipulated into excessive commitments of time and energy, which they somehow manage to fulfil - for a while. But everyone has a breaking point.
Paul had one, too, as well as at least some features of the 'coping personality'. And I personally believe, as one who has gone through all three stages, that he reached at least Wilkie's stage two stress breakdown not long before writing 2 Corinthians.
'We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favour granted us in answer to the prayers of many.' (2 Co 1:8-11)
This sounds, to me, like a man who has reached the end of his resources, known despair - perhaps even suicidal despair - and, in that darkness, discovered anew the resources of God. And he powerfully communicates his discovery to his beloved people at Corinth.
'But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.' (4:7-12)
He was not exaggerating, either, when he said, 'For when we came into Macedonia, this body of ours had no rest, but we were harassed at every turn - conflicts on the outside, fears within.' Consider the roll of his sufferings.
'I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again. Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on the move. I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my own countrymen, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false brothers. I have laboured and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked. Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches. Who is weak, and I do not feel weak? Who is led into sin, and I do not inwardly burn?' (11:23b-29)
It is easy to be bitter when you have gone through such experiences. It is like dying slowly and painfully and then being given more life which, by this time, you don't really want. But Paul found other things through his sufferings.
'Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.' (2 Co 1:3-7)
I find that since I failed severely - a new experience for me, as it probably was for Paul - I have greater tolerance for people, and greater compassion for the failures of others. (I have less tolerance of organisations, but that is another story.) It can be a humanising experience to fail.
Gordon McLauchlan writes a column in our local daily newspaper, the New Zealand Herald. Here are his thoughts on Michael Porter, of the Porter Project, an American expert imported to boost New Zealand business:
'. . . between you and me, the guy is made of shiny stainless steel and should not be looked at with the naked eye or you will damage your retina . . . . he was an All-State footballer and baseballer at high school, an All-American golfer at university, is a captain in the United States Army Reserve, won a BSc with "high honours" in aerospace mechanical engineering at Princeton before gaining his MBA with "high distinction" at Harvard.
'Would you buy a brainwave from a guy like that, someone whose people knowledge has never been enhanced by failure?' (Gordon McLauchlan, 'The way we are' in NZ Herald, 1 March 1991)
McLauchlan is right. Those who have never failed offer solutions to sufferers, as Job's friends did. (It is notable that Job didn't start to rail against God until his friends had talked nonsense about God in the course of offering these solutions.) Those who have failed, and have learned from their experience, offer something far more valuable: compassion. Job's friends had it right initially; they sat with him for a week and said nothing.
Failure can enable you, too, to see the good in others rather than focussing on their failures. Paul found joy in the Corinthians, for all their faults:
'I have great confidence in you; I take great pride in you. I am greatly encouraged; in all our troubles my joy knows no bounds.' (2 Co 7:4)
I am becoming convinced that joy comes from hope. I notice that I am most joyful when I have most to hope for; and Paul says elsewhere, 'Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction . . .' (Ro 12:12). Because he had hope for the Corinthians, having seen the power of God in his own weakness, he could be joyful regarding their future - and his own:
'He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us.' (1:10)
Hebrews refers to our hope in Christ as 'an anchor for the soul' (Heb 5:19). But if you can see an anchor, it isn't working; 'who hopes for what he already has?' (Ro 8:24). So Paul's hope is not in what is seen; this has been stripped away from him and demonstrated to be weak and useless. His hope is in what is unseen.
'Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
'Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked. For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. Now it is God who has made us for this very purpose and has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come. Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. We live by faith, not by sight. We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord.' (4:16-5:8)
Paul's ultimate hope, and desire, is heaven, through the mercy of Christ. There is a saying: 'Life's a bitch. Then you die.' To Christians who are suffering, the latter is good news and gives strength for the present; strength and boldness.
'Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold.' (3:12)
'Such confidence as this is ours through Christ before God. Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God. He has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant - not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.' (3:4-6)
'Therefore, since through God's mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart.' (4:1)
Paul was already a bold man when he went through his trial; but boldness can come through suffering also. When we realise the soundness of the hope we have, when we have seen the power of Christ and the way in which he holds on to us, we have a new level of confidence, not in ourselves - for we know, not just intellectually, but experientially, that we are weak- but in God. I gained a new confidence in Christ's work in me when I read Wilkie's book and realised that I should not have been capable, neurophysiologically speaking, of restraining my temper when I was in the severe stages of stress breakdown, nor of overcoming opposition to the idea of my leaving the situation where I was stressed, nor of making the arrangements to do so. Another thing I learned: the confidence to tell others what I think, even if they will not like it, and not let them manipulate or intimidate me - part of the reason I was under so much stress being the poor decisions I had allowed others to make for me and the excessive workload I had allowed them to place on me. Paul certainly lacks no confidence in speaking to the Corinthians:
'I already gave you a warning when I was with you the second time. I now repeat it while absent: On my return I will not spare those who sinned earlier or any of the others, since you are demanding proof that Christ is speaking through me. He is not weak in dealing with you, but is powerful among you. For to be sure, he was crucified in weakness, yet he lives by God's power. Likewise, we are weak in him, yet by God's power we will live with him to serve you. Examine yourselves to see whether you are in the faith; test yourselves. Do you not realize that Christ Jesus is in you- unless, of course, you fail the test?' (13:2-5)
Along with boldness, though, suffering and failure can bring humility. Our confidence in Christ has grown, but false confidence in ourselves has been decisively shattered. Paul underlines this contrast between himself and the arrogant 'super-apostles' who have been manipulating the Corinthians:
'For we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake.' (4:5)
He explicitly attributes his humility to some form of suffering, which may have been emotional, physical, or even psychosomatic (since psychosomatic illness is one manner in which the brain attempts to gain itself a rest during stress breakdown).
'To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.' (12:7-10)
Paul has embraced his difficulties as something which makes him more effective in his work for Christ. We should be clear that this does not mean either that God 'sent' the suffering, or that it was not evil. Suffering is evil, as anyone who is suffering instinctively knows. There is a tendency to consider suffering as something inherently ennobling and thus somehow good, and to attribute its occurrence to God, who is supposed to be either simply strengthening you for his own purposes or somehow punishing you and 'guiding' you thereby. This false idea is thoroughly trashed by James, who starts out his letter exhorting his readers to 'consider it pure joy . . . whenever you face trials of many kinds, because the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything' (Jas 1:2-4)- but goes on to say that someone who is being tempted should not attribute the temptation to God, who is not tempted by evil and tempts nobody (Jas 1:13). There is evil abroad in the earth, appears to be the message of Scripture, and God, who is all-powerful, is able to turn even inevitable evil to good in the lives of believers; but this is never to imply that it is good to start with, or that God causes it to occur. We need only look at the bitterness of many people who have suffered to see that suffering is not inherently good and does not automatically lead to stronger, better people.
Nor does it necessarily lead to people with a better grasp on how life is, unless the people, like Paul, are prepared to learn with the help of the grace of God. As he says himself, 'Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death.' (7:10). People who have been hurt can become devious, finding ways to pass their hurt on to others in a generalised revenge against the world. Not so the apostle. He has integrity:
'. . . we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God.' (4:2)
He also has a realistic viewpoint on life:
'So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer.' (5:16)
This realistic viewpoint includes not allowing others to manipulate us; but Paul has surpassed me, for one, in his willingness to still risk further hurt out of love for the Corinthians.
'Make room for us in your hearts. We have wronged no one, we have corrupted no one, we have exploited no one. I do not say this to condemn you; I have said before that you have such a place in our hearts that we would live or die with you.' (2 Co 7:2-3)
And he does not fall into the trap of self-justification; all his explanations are related to the benefit which the Corinthians can gain from understanding:
'Have you been thinking all along that we have been defending ourselves to you? We have been speaking in the sight of God as those in Christ; and everything we do, dear friends, is for your strengthening.' (12:19)
Paul's realism also included not denying his sufferings, or that they hurt, or that they were evil. He quotes the Psalms: 'It is written: "I believed, therefore I have spoken." With this same spirit of faith we also believe and therefore speak . . .' (2 Co 4:13). A Bible scholar of Paul's calibre would not have been unaware of the context of his quotation: 'I believed; therefore I said, "I am greatly afflicted"' (Ps 116:10). Because he trusted in Christ, and knew that nothing could separate him from the love of Christ, he felt free to tell God his pain, knowing that he would listen.
So, Paul failed. Paul reached his breaking point. Paul knew his own weakness. But his trust in the grace of Christ was such that he was able to become stronger through the experience. The nature of ministry, and in fact the nature of life, is such that we will all know people (or be people) who are under too much strain, and are unable or unwilling to take a break - through pride, a sense of responsibility, or the expectations of others. And those who never take a break, break. But, as Paul demonstrates, we can be mended so that we are stronger at the broken places. He, and I, had loving friends who helped this process; but without Christ it cannot happen fully.
It seemed to me as if I was falling into a dark pit. The walls of the pit were wreathed with thorns, and studded with stones; and I was cut, and bruised, and battered as I fell. At any time I expected to break on the pit's bottom. Then I called out to the Lord. And I hit something which felt like a rock; and I was bruised, but unbroken. Then I twisted around to see what I had hit, and it was the Lord.
And I said to him, 'Lord, what are you doing here?'
And it was as if he said to me, 'Where would you expect me to be? I've been in worse places than this, for your sake.'
More articles.
I love |
You are visitor number to this page since
29 November 1997.