When I first came to Duquesne University in fall 2011, I met a priest and we became good friends. In the midst of a personal crisis of faith, he gave me this Scripture to reflect and meditate on – it still cuts me to the core:
“Therefore, that I might not become too elated, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan, to beat me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me, but he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.’ I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me. Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong.” – 2 Corinthians 12:7-10
What that thorn in the flesh was, I think only God or St. Paul could say. We really don’t know and Scripture scholars only speculate – some say it was the stigmata (the wounds of Christ from the Cross), others a difficult opponent, among other theories. But the question is, why didn’t God remove it? After all, St. Paul prayed for it to go away not once, not twice, but three times. Why didn’t God “answer” St. Paul’s prayer?
This begs the question of what would happen if God did remove that thorn in the flesh. As the passage tells us, St. Paul would have become elated, he would have been prideful. Pride, the greatest sin and the root of all sin, makes us like God and drives away our continual need for God at every second of every day of our lives. And if St. Paul “needed” a thorn in the flesh to keep him humble, we do too.
Our thorns in the flesh could be many things: some sin we can’t shake, an addiction, abuse, family scars, anything. I believe the Lord lets us battle with the same sin or struggle sometimes to humble us, to show us we can do NOTHING without Him and His grace (cf. John 15:5). Maybe we’re too prideful to surrender our weakness and fragility to the Lord, to decrease so that He may increase (cf. John 3:30).
However, I believe there’s another big reason why God doesn’t take away the thorns in our flesh: so that we may be COMPASSIONATE towards our suffering brothers and sisters. Compassion comes from the Latin words
com, meaning “with”, and
passio, meaning “suffer” – thus, compassion means to “suffer with” another. You and I called to be, as St. Theresa of Avila teaches, the hands and feet of Christ in the world. But that cannot happen unless we imitate the all-compassionate merciful heart of Our Savior.
All of us have suffered from deep scars that perhaps we hide behind. But
scars remain; sometimes, even time doesn’t heal wounds because they just cut so deep. We as human beings are all
broken so that’s not all bad. When we encounter people who are wounded, suffering, struggling with life, we truly can exercise true compassion, listen to hear, guide them, feel their pain and suffering. Then, they can start to heal and we fulfill St. Paul’s call to bear others’ burdens (Galatians 6:2).
I’ll close with a quote from the great 20
th century spiritual writer Henri Nouwen: “For all are called to recognize the sufferings of their time in their own hearts, and make that recognition the starting point of their service. Whether we try to enter into a dislocated world, relate to a convulsive generation, or speak to a dying person, our service will not be perceived as authentic unless it comes from a heart wounded by the suffering about which we speak” (
The Wounded Healer).
David received a Bachelor's degree in theology from Duquesne University in 2011 and a Master's degree in theology from Franciscan University in 2015