The Better Reliance
For we do not want you to be ignorant, brothers and sisters, of the affliction we experienced in Asia, that we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. 9 Indeed, we in ourselves had received the verdict of death, in order that we should not have relied on ourselves, but on God, the one who raises the dead. (2 Corinthians 1:8–9, author’s translation)
Some years ago, in God’s gracious providence, I stumbled into studying the theme of weakness in the New Testament. It’s a fascinating concept, and if you start to track all its uses you’ll notice it has a range of meanings. For example,
Jesus told his disciples that, in contrast to the spirit, the flesh is weak (Mark 14:38).
Luke, in Paul’s voice, refers to the weak as those who are economically disadvantaged (Acts 20:35).
The Corinthian believers were weak in the sense of social comparisons (1 Corinthians 1:26–27).
The Book of Romans tells us that Jesus died for us while we were still weak, that is, while we were ungodly and unworthy of salvation (Romans 5:8).
We are also weak when we pray and run into those moments where we lack the words or know-how (Romans 8:26).
We are weak if we can’t get past judging others on matters of conscience (Romans 14:1–4).
Also add to this the physical infirmities that Paul cites in 2 Corinthians 10:1, the thorn in the flesh in 2 Corinthians 12:7, and the list of unpleasantness in 2 Corinthians 12:10.
The Bible has quite a bit to say about weakness. And while the particular context of each use must determine its meaning, the general idea is deficiency. It means to lack. Whether it’s physical strength or financial means, social respect or divine worthiness, seamless prayers or impeccable judgment, we are humans and we in ourselves are not enough. You are not enough.
Now, I realize that’s hard to swallow, and incredibly unpopular. There’s a song I enjoy that tells me I am enough, and in one sense, yes, in terms of human dignity, of bearing God’s image, of monergistic love, yes, I am enough for that (because all it requires is a pulse). But the Bible’s message of our weakness is unequivocal that we are not enough. That’s the point. Weakness means that you in yourself do not have what it takes.
But don’t leave yet. There’s good news coming.
Look back at Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 1:9. He wants the church in Corinth (and the church today) to know about his affliction in Asia because he wants us to learn what he learned. God means to teach us through Paul’s trial as he taught Paul himself.
For context, things were tough for Paul — so tough that he and his team despaired of life itself. In other words, they thought they were going to die.
Then verse 9.
“Indeed, we in ourselves had received the verdict of death.”
The word for verdict, or sentence, is only used this once in the entire Bible. Looking at its use in contemporary Greek texts, scholars say it carries the meaning of an official answer. It’s to get the word, or the verdict, as it were, presumably to a petition. If we dig in here, following NT scholar Murray Harris, we might wonder what Paul would have asked to receive such an answer.
Well, according to the context, he most likely asked if he was going to die.
And that’s a good question, right? If the world was crashing down around us, we might say, “God, is this it? Will I die now?”
I think Paul asked that, and God told him “Yes.” Death was the answer.
But, of course, Paul didn’t die. He lived to tell this story. So how does that answer make sense?
Following Harris, I think Paul’s question wasn’t simply regarding that one instance, but it was about whether he’d died before Jesus returned.
We have to remember that the return of Jesus felt extremely imminent to the First Century church. In the Book of Acts, Christians basically walked around looking up into the sky — because they were told that’s where they’d find Jesus returning (see Acts 1:10–11). Paul knew the spirit of antichrist was already at work in the world, sowing his deception among believers, and he knew that Jesus was coming back. Soon, and very soon.
And so when he thought he was going to die, he may have said, “Wait a minute, Father, am I going to die before Jesus returns? Am I going to go before that Day?”
Yes.
Now, imagine how that might impact his apostolic mission. He would have learned that he won’t finish the job. He may not get to Spain, after all. He’s … he’s going to die. Maybe not in that one instance, but in some instance, at some point, he’s going to die.
Now why did God tell him this? Here we go. What was the purpose?
Pauls says, “in order that we should not have relied in ourselves, but on God, the one who raises the dead.”
The reality of Paul’s death clarified his weakness. He was not enough. And therefore, don’t you dare rely on yourself, Paul. Don’t think this is up to you. Don’t think you’ve got this. But instead, rely on God, the one who is so much greater than death that he’s defeated it. God, the raiser of the dead, he’s going to be here, always, with or without us, and he’s going to get the job done.
Paul says God delivered him that one time, and he will deliver him again, because that’s what he does — because God, not Paul, raises the dead.
Paul wants us to know this, church. We are weak, so weak, and most likely, we will die before Jesus comes, like Paul did. But God, he is strong, so strong, and he is greater than death. So in whom should we trust? Where should we rely?
If I ever got a neck tattoo, this is what it’d say:
I am a severely weak man whose only chance of doing anything of any lasting good is if a God who can raise the dead works through me.