There’s no such thing as a strong person.
Jesus is the obvious exception, although when we use the word ‘strong’ in connection with him, we need to take care. Sadly, some think that strength means macho, obviously in men. A Christian leader recently caused a stir by angrily attacking what he sees as feminised Christianity. Apparently in a desire to see more ‘real’ men, he insisted that he follows a cage-fighting, high testosterone Jesus.
‘Jesus is a prize-fighter with a tattoo down His leg, a sword in His hand and the commitment to make someone bleed. That is the guy I can worship. I cannot worship the hippie, diaper, halo Christ because I cannot worship a guy I can beat up[i].’
Not only is this a bizarre way to approach worship, but it ignores the reality that Jesus was the lamb of God who did allow a few Roman thugs to beat him up. Unfortunately when you think of Jesus being strong in terms of machismo, you start to believe that everyone needs to become Rambo:
‘The problem with our churches today is that the lead pastor is some sissy boy who wears cardigan sweaters, has The Carpenters dialled in on his iPod, gets his hair cut at a salon instead of a barber shop, hasn’t been to an Ultimate Fighting match, works out on an elliptical machine instead of going to isolated regions of Russia like in Rocky IV in order to harvest lumber with his teeth....’
This is a superficial way to think about strength. Sometimes, those we think of as strong come disguised as timid, slight souls.
White hair crowns elderly Doris, who sits prim and quiet in the second pew on Sunday, always, always in the same place. She never was a missionary, dodging anacondas in a humid rain forest, nor a wartime nurse just behind the front line, mopping the brows of the dying as shells roared overhead. But don’t be fooled, for hers is a stout heart. When cancer stole her breasts and then her husband of fifty years, she was a colossus. For a decade, she changed his colostomy bag, never once allowing her nose to wrinkle. It took her three days to summon the courage to view her ravaged, flat chested frame in a full length mirror, but didn’t flinch at the sight of those vivid scars. She breathed a prayer of thanks for breath, put her blouse back on and made his tea. She has been strong, a rock in a plaid skirt. And now she sits in that same pew each Sunday, not because it is her place, but it used to be their place, together.
But macho foolishness aside, let me say it again:
There’s no such thing as a strong person.
Only a person with strengths, who is strong in some areas.
We all know that we all have weaknesses.
But we are also weak because we are strong, because our strengths can become components in our weaknesses.
The unwavering, morally solid soul can lack compassion and struggle to show mercy.
The zealous reformer becomes intolerant of others who don’t agree with their cause, or don’t sacrifice much for it. Their zeal distills into simmering anger and before long, they lose the ability to win others to their cause. Instead, they alienate.
The tender-hearted giver becomes a pushover for manipulation, a willing target for scammers.
The financially secure despise those who are lower on the ladder of affluence, dismissing them as lazy, flawed, or even unblessed.
The independent enterprising type might be slow to ask for help. Head down, shoulders square, they march resolutely into oblivion.
The big picture visionary is often useless on detail, because they find it boring. Vision is cast but flounders because strategy is not set.
And then, whatever our character, we might show strength today and crumble tomorrow, in a different testing; some collapse because lethal circumstances conspired together, with a knockout punch result.
The perception that we’re unilaterally strong is deceptive. People say that we’re strong and we believe them. Overly confident, blinded by their flattery, or deceived by our lack of self awareness, we stumble headlong.
Perhaps we are painfully aware of our weaknesses.
But have we ever asked the question: how do my strengths contribute to my weaknesses?
And perhaps the knowledge that there are no strong people, only people with strengths, will keep us more alert and awake.
[i] http://www.theopedia.com/MarkDriscollnote-3