CROSSES AND THORNS

In Second Corinthians Paul reflected on what he called his thorn in the flesh that constantly bugged him. It got so bad that he finally had to ask God to do something, that something being to rid him of this ailment. That God would not do. Instead, God simply reminded Paul that God’s grace would suffice. It would be all he needed to endure the pain and go on. And so it was.

We’ve all been there, perhaps, in fact, are there. We all endure those thorns in the flesh, pains in the neck, or whatever we happened to call them at the moment. They are real. They hurt. And they are not going to go away. Paul had to live with his thorn in the flesh and so do we. God reminded Paul and God reminds us that even though the pain remains, God’s grace and our cooperation with that grace will keep us going.

There are times when we confuse those thorns in the flesh by calling them crosses we have to bear. They are not. There is a real distinction between crosses and thorns. Those thorns that pain us come with the territory of being human. They can range from dealing with teenage daughters who not only think you are an idiot but tell you so on a regular basis, to a boss who thinks everyone should sell his soul to the company, to the muscle aches and pains that kick in when we try to get up from bed or a chair.

Those thorns in the flesh come from without and from within and are part and parcel of human existence. We may be able to lessen the pain with exercise and vitamins. It may go away with time as the teenagers grow into adults and eventually apologize for the pain they caused and thank you for not killing them when you had every right to do so. It may resolve itself when we get a new boss. The point is that we do not freely choose to endure the pain, the thorn. It arises and we have no choice but to deal with it as best we can and with God’s grace.

Crosses, on the other hand are also painful but quite different. We never, ever have to carry a cross, and cross of any size or shape. We freely choose to carry that cross. Jesus did not have to carry his. He could have walked away. He could have ceased upsetting those who were so angry about his words and deeds. But Jesus freely chose to continue his ministry of love and concern and service to all knowing that in the end he would have to pay for it and pay dearly. A cross, a very real one, awaited him. He knew it but he did what he had to do. He chose to carry that cross.

And so do we. We can refuse to do so as well. No one forces us to do that which is painful: to help the person in need, to walk the extra mile or give the shirt off our back wherever those miles might take us and however much of a sacrifice we might have to make. Yet, as we soon discover when freely giving of ourselves, those crosses are really not all that burdensome and they are often very good for us.

So, too, are those thorns whether realize it at the time or not. When my daughters were teenagers they seemed like heavy crosses to bear. We endured one another, often painfully. Now? Who cares? They love me.  I love them and we have all moved on.